#HE IS NOT A JACK-O-LANTERN. HIS NAME IS *RUSTY* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonixe · 6 months

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"Oh Micheal..."

notes: I'm back and for real this time, school kicked my ass and I'll going to try to answer all the requests and publish all of them, sorry guys for not uploading xx.

PTS: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, MIGHT BE LATE OR EARLY.

warning: smut, p in the v, creampie, readers a virgin, non-con to semi-con, penetration, and BJ.

pairing: micheal myers x fem!reader

word counter: 2.2k

The old rusty clock, the arms of the clock moving to what you think is taking its sweet time. Laying down your head on your desk, looking at your friend who was sitting to the right of you, Laurie Strode. You guys knew it each other since middle school, and your moms are parents too which put some relations between you guys.

Finally, the bell rang as you got up took your books, and walked to Laurie who was just packing up like you, "Laurie, what are you doing on Halloween night?" I asked, putting my back on the side of my shoulder, and leaning down on her desk. "Im going to babysit Tommy today, he's my neighboorhood' kid, and they're going to be busy this Halloween," Laurie muttered before you guys started walking out of the classroom to the the hallway. It was usually loud during between periods, but it was the end of the day. -And it was Halloween, "So, what are you going to do this Halloween?" I heard Laurie mention, turning my head towards her realizing I virtually didn't have any plans this year, I was too old for trick or treating and I wasn't going to some dumb Halloween party being hosted.

"Hm, never thought about it before.." I said, looking down the hallway, it was pretty packed with people getting their stuff out of their locker. "Maybe I'll just hang out with you while you babysit, don't wanna be alone on Halloween" I exclaimed, "So.. you're just going to watch some Halloween movie with the kid and give him snacks and shit like that," I asked.

"Probably" She giggled, "maybe some jack o' lanterns if he's lucky," she said, we walked out of the school building, hearing Lynda screaming out names, as she got to us. She was heaving, leaning back, "Where the hell were you guys going?" She exclaimed, "Home" I looked at Laurie and we laughed together, "Come on guys" She groaned, and we walked down the pavement, to the street crossing to our high school.

Haddonfield was a quiet place until 1963, with a kid named Micheal who murdered his own sister, i heard of it everywhere. Different stories and various, it was cruel. I learned from it with my dad's old newspapers, with the letter bold of what the young elementary kid did. "HEY," We heard some yelling again, before Lynda lit her cigarette, smoking it. She turned her head, "It's Annie" She said, "You guys didn't wait for me at all" She yelled, "We did, like 15 minutes and you totally did show" Before we started walking again, Lynda and Annie sharing a cigarettes, as she shared what happen.

"Paul really dragged you to the locker room" I giggled, "Yeah, and he got grounded so he won't be coming over to mine tonight" She blew out the smoke from her lips. "Laurie whatcha thinking about?" I asked, "I forgot my chemistry book!" she groaned, rubbing her head. "So what! I forgot all my books, like my math book, chemistry, English, and more" Lynda started ranting, "Even my French book" She giggled. Before a car started driving across the road, grabbing Laurie's attention, I noticed looking at the direction she was looking at, "Isn't that Van Grahm?" Lynda said, "I don't think so.." Laurie whispered.

"I think he's cute" She smiled out, as we all watched the car drive before Annie said something, "Hey jerk! Speed kills!" She yelled before we noticed the car stopping in its tracks. My heart was beating fast against my chest, waiting for something to happen before it started driving.

"Phew" I muttered, "Sometimes Annie you're going to get us in some deep trouble," Laurie said.

"Totally," Lynda said. Before we all started walking down the pavement.

I was at Laurie's house sitting down on the couch, she was babysitting a kid named Tommy Doyle, and he was glued to the TV screen watching some kid Halloween movie, i was bored so I watched some of it.

I heard the doorbell ringing as I got up from the couch walking to the door, "I'll get it, Laurie!" Looking into the peephole, it was Annie and her little sister. I opened the door, "It's Annie and her sister" I yelled out, "I didn't know you were going to be here Annie" I said, "Yeah, just need my sister to be here, so I can go to Paul's place" She said, "I thought he was grounded?" I questioned, "he is but his parents are going to be out" She gave me a sneaky smile.

I and Annie were in the middle of a conversation after that Annie left to go back to her house, I put on some different Halloween movies as I walked to the kitchen with Laurie preparing the jack o' lanterns, "Those are so good jack o' later" I pointed at the pumpkins, "Thanks" she said, "Could you make some popcorn for Tommy and Lindsay?" She asked, "Sure" I took some of the microwave popcorn popping it into the microwave setting the timer, before leaning back on the counter.

"So this is how you're going to spend your whole Halloween" I asked, "Yeah, but it's a little fun" She confessed, "How is taking care of two brats fun?"

"I don't know maybe because I have something to do" She shrugged

We spoke until we heard yelling from Tommy, Me and Laurie ran to the living room, "Boogeyman!" He screamed before he grabbed our attention, I rushed to him, "Where?" I said, looking at the window he was pointing to, "Y/N, did you add anything?" she asked, as she held Lindsay, "Nope, nothing there Tommy" I said, "Oh, stop Tommy stop that, there no one there" Laurie said,

"Nobody believes me" Tommy muttered, "I do Tommy," Lindsay said, as they sat down on the couch. Some part of me believed what Tommy said, especially with all the mysterious things that were happening around Haddonfield, "Is there a boogeyman" I whispered looking through the blinds, before I stepped back and sat down on the sofa. A few minutes passed and I got stuck watching some random movie with the kids. The phone started ringing and Laurie got up to answer it, "Are you fooling around again?" she put her hand on her hips before her eye faltered, "I'll kill if this is a joke" I turned my head, "Annie" she repeated to the phone before she quickly put the phone back on the charge.

"Who called?" I asked, "Annie" she said, looking at the window before trying to call her again. "Hold on, could you watch them for me?"

"Sure," I said. A few minutes passed before I looked at the time, "Okay, guys it's time to go to bed" I said, "But it's so early" Tommy groaned, "Well, you guys should be up to date, now bed, now" I watched them as they got up the stairs going to a room, "Now, where the hell is Laurie" I whispered.

I watched some TV, waiting for her, almost falling asleep, I heard banging from the door, and Laurie screaming from behind, I quickly opened it as she shut the door behind her locking it and turning off the lights. Running the phone, putting in the policy number. Her clothes were ripped and she was scared, "Laurie, what happened?" I asked worriedly. She put down the phone, becoming more frantic. "Where's Tommy and Lindsay?"

"There sleeping, right now" I said, stretching my arms, "Laurie what the hell to you?" I pointed to her clothing. "Tommy was right, something is outside" she heaved pushing me down as she was down hiding behind the couch, before she saw a figure. There were armed with a bloody knife, I screamed, backing up before Laurie stabbed the intruder with a large crochet needle. "What the fuck" my eye widen, my heart pounding.

"Come" Laurie grabbed my hand, and we ran some else to the house, hiding from the intruder, "W-what is going on.." I whispered, "Be quiet" she whispered back. Hearing footsteps creeping, the hit didn't affect him. "I'll going to be right back," she said, quietly getting away from where you were, I was scared my heart to my chest.

I held my breath as he got closer, before I saw his knife beside me, I screamed before running up the stairs, my legs had never gone that fast before, I ran upstairs locking the door behind me, before I leaned back, a knife was inserted. As I screamed, crawling back further down. The shadow broke the door as I saw up and personal, he had a white mask with hair and was in a coverall.

"Please," I said, feeling tears on my cheeks, as I crawled back, "please, I won't tell anyone," I said, as he got closer to me his knife in hand, before stopping. I looked up at him, I couldn't see anything but the window did something showing his big shadow.

I felt my body trembling, as I breathed in. I didn't know what to do, looking at him. "What do you want.." I yelled, he didn't respond to me, blankly staring at me.

An idea came into my head and made me feel shameful for doing it but I crawled towards him and looked at him, he didn't lower his knife it seemed like he was frozen in the same position he had before.

My hands were on the waist part of his pants before I felt his hand grabbing mine, I was scared but he released them. Maybe what I had in my head was right, pulling his pants fully down. There was an evident bulge poking out. I held my breath, my thighs rubbing against each other, it was huge.

I had second thoughts of doing it but it looked like he wanted it.

Taking off his boxer revealing his cock sprang out, and the tip was red. I bit my lip, looking up at him, there wasn't a response just silence. Licked the pre-cum oozing out, looking up, he was just staring at me. I started taking him into my mouth, my jaw got tired, felt it hitting the back of my mouth, and it wasn't fully in. Tears on my waterline, before I felt some hands on the back of my head, shoving his dick into my mouth.

Some saliva dripped out of my mouth, breathing through my mouth. I heard his groans, as he kept face fucking me. I put my hands on his thighs, trying to stabilize before I felt hot loads going down my throat before he released his hands over me. I gasped, breathing. My salvia connects to the pink tip of his dick.

Rubbing my legs, feeling my cunt getting wetter, looking up at the intruder. It felt shameless that I was getting horny off of this, rubbing myself. Feeling his hands on me, he forcefully took off my panties underneath my skirt, flipping my skirt up and revealing my cunt. The cold air hitting it made me feel tense. I propped my elbows on the floor, "Wait, please!" I cried out, feeling a sharp pain inside of me, making my body jolt up.

I whimpered out in pain, feeling his large hands on my hips. Thrusting up into my g-stop, making me moan, turning my head. My walls spasming around his cock, his hips smacking into my pelvis, making my moans tremor. "F-fuck" I groaned.

My body jolted with every rhythmic smack to my pelvis. I didn't know why I enjoyed it, I should be in fear by now, but I'm just savoring every moment. Feeling a hot sensation in my lower core, feeling his cock hitting my stop, making me bend my back.

Before I saw a white flash in my eyes, a loud moan ripped out of my throat, I gripped the sheets beneath me. "P-please" I whispered, my eyes feeling heavy. He didn't stop, thrusting into me, making me bend in a sort of way. My skin felt sticky with sweat on my body, I breathed out and in. His rhythm getting sloppier, feeling his hand on my legs.

Lifting them, as he plunges into me, his groans getting louder. feeling him inside of me in parts I didn't know existed. Bending over in ecstasy. Before I felt hot loads inside of me, making me hot.

My chest rose slowly, my eyes looking at him lazily. "Please.." I whispered, his grip still on me. I felt his dick soften inside of me.

Feeling his grasp coming off me, I put my head down. My body feeling tired, and before I felt myself closing my eyes. The last thing I saw was the intruder leaving, I tried to get him but he disappeared.

the only thing I saw when I woke up was Laurie, she had a towel wrapped around my body, the police checking the house and a doctor, I think his name was Mr. Loomis was with us.

"What did he do to you" I heard Laurie whisper to me, I didn't say anything just look at the house, which soon filled with police officers. I felt something dripping down my leg, squeezing my leg. I remember the shameful thing I did with him, biting my lip.

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classickook · 2 years

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Or imagine pumpkin carving with sherlock 😂

i’m still thinking about the other idea you sent, but here’s this one for now! i had a lot of fun writing it 🥺

you huff and puff as the monstrous pumpkin weighs heavily in your arms until you finally reach the threshold of sherlock’s flat. “you know, you could’ve helped me carry this.”

sherlock waves you off distractedly as he rummages through the cupboards and cabinets.

you heave the pumpkin onto the kitchen counter and take a breath as your boyfriend continues to search for something. you unbutton your coat and toss it on one of the armchairs before rolling up your sleeves, ready to dive into the halloween festivities. it took an insane amount of convincing before sherlock finally agreed to partake in your childish traditions.

“aha!” he exclaims as he lays out an array of knives in various shapes, sizes, and sharpness. your eyes are immediately drawn to one particularly hefty blade, more like that of a butcher’s knife, that just so happens to have a slight coating of something dark and rusty along the sharp edge.

“sherlock…”

“hmm?”

“what is that on the blade?”

he eyes the knife in question, however, his expression remains neutral as his gaze drops to the dried blood.

“it’s from a case.”

“a case? is that a murder weapon, sherlock? why do you have it in your flat? we’re not seriously going to carve a pumpkin with a piece of criminal evidence?” you shriek.

he rolls his eyes dramatically. “don’t be ridiculous. gary said i could have it to run some additional tests.”

“greg.”

“who?”

“his name is greg, sherlock. you know that.”

his brows furrow in genuine confusion. “is it? hmm.”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you never cease to amaze me, mr. holmes. in more ways than one.”

“thank you.”

a laugh bubbles up your throat at his obliviousness. “so aside from that knife,” you emphasize with a sharp glance to the murder weapon, “how about we get started?”

“i’ve never done this before… how does it work?” he admits bashfully, a rare occurrence for the famous consulting detective who was usually so confident and stubborn.

you bump his shoulder with yours as you reach for a clean knife, immediately taking over by slicing open the top of the pumpkin and removing the stem. “don’t worry, i’ll show you.”

sherlock’s eyes watch carefully as you work, curious and unflinching as you gut the pumpkin and plop a handful of seeds and gooey pulp onto the countertop.

“see? this part is simple. we just need to empty the insides so there’s room for us to make the jack-o’-lantern. want to give it a try?”

a dimple appears in his cheek as he smiles adorably at you and then quickly rolls up the sleeves of his buttoned shirt before digging in, pumpkin pulp reaching his elbows as he scoops out the insides as you instructed.

once the pumpkin is completely empty, you uncap a black marker and plan out the face. “what do you think?” you ask sherlock. “what expression should our pumpkin have?”

“what do they normally look like?”

“well, most have triangle eyes and a nose, and either a smile or frown carved in. but we could try something else, if you’d rather? do you have any ideas?”

he shook his head. “whatever you think is best.”

“okay, how about a smile? just something simple for our first jack-o’-lantern?”

“okay,” he replies softly.

you map out the face in your head and then get to work, tracing two triangles for the eyes, another for the nose, and finally, a jagged smile that looks more frightening than you were aiming for. “how does it look?” you ask as you draw back and admire your handiwork.

sherlock nods his approval, curls bouncing slightly with the movement.

“would you like to cut them out? might be fun for you…” and definitely less gruesome than the experiments he worked on in the flat, is what you didn’t say.

sherlock nods eagerly, a boyish smile lighting up his face as he digs in, cutting into the eyes first. you’ve never seen him so excited for something other than a case, and it was certainly a refreshing change to share this moment with him.

you watch him silently as he goes about the other features of the pumpkin, your heart feeling light and happy as your boyfriend heals his inner child with you.

the two of you finish up the final details, giggling and smiling wide while covered in pumpkin guts. “now we just need a candle to put inside. do you have any lying around?”

sherlock rushes out of the kitchen and returns within seconds, lit candle in hand from who-knows-where, and places it inside the opening before securing the top.

“let’s take it out front, shall we?”

sherlock grabs the jack-o’-lantern and quickly crosses the room, rushing down the staircase and kicking open the door before you can make it down the last few steps. once you join him outside, you see the pumpkin already placed to the side of the door, its grinning mouth flickering in the candlelight that glows around the small space. it makes the doorstep look cozy and festive as halloween soon approaches.

you grab sherlock’s hand and squeeze lightly as he stares at the pumpkin, seemingly lost in thought. “i think this is the best jack-o’-lantern i’ve ever seen,” you say softly and press a kiss to his pale cheek.

he turns to you and flashes a small smile before bringing your hand up to his mouth and placing a tender kiss there. “thank you for sharing this with me.”

taglist: @nicoletk @selcouthangel @singhfae

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jazzyinspace · 10 months

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🌱, 🧠, 🎯 and ⬇️?

Thank you so much! 💜

fallout 76 character ask

🌱 What's their basic information? Name, gender, age, that sort of thing

💙 Jeffrey Lee Stone, better known as Jeff to most and Jeffy only to Biv E. Ridge and possibly Aries.

💙 Born on February 20, 2071 to a pair of Free Staters in Harper's Ferry, WV.

💙 A cryptid whisperer, plant dad, a self-taught-mostly-everything, and a friend to whichever world/time he finds himself in.

❤️: Nuka-Cola (Nuka-Cherry is his favorite), cryptids, building/tinkering, photography, radstorms, alcohol, pumpkin pie, coffee, music, collecting all of the things (is always over encumbered), and campfires.

❌️: Tick Blood Tequila, running out of materials, The Overseer, Scorched Plague, Mirelurk Kings, hateful people/comments, and hostile robots.

🧠 What are their SPECIAL stats? Are there any perks or mutations that they use frequently/all the time?

S | 15 | Gladiator+, Incisor, Martial Artist

P | 8 | Commando+, Concentrated Fire, Green Thumb

E | 9 | Lifegiver, Adamantium Skeleton, Cola Nut

C | 10 | Inspirational, Hard Bargain, Friendly Fire

I | 8 | Scrapper, Contractor, Chemist

A | 13 | Action Boy, Marathoner, Sneak, Escape Artist–a lot of these benefit his wasteland photography!

L | 12 | Starched Genes, Class Freak, Super Duper, Woodchucker, Serendipity

Mutations: Bird Bones, Grounded, Healing Factor, Marsupial (his favorite, if he had to choose), Speed Demon, and Twisted Muscles.

🎯 Do they have a favourite daily quest? Least favourite?

Favorite: Trick or Treat?

When Jeff first met Jack O' Lantern at the Pumpkin House, he made a promise:

"Don't worry, Jack O' Lantern. As long as I'm around, you will always have pumpkins to carve." (With Jeff once being terrified of all robots, this was quite the healing moment for him 💙)

Least favorite: The Raider/Settler daily quests–The Importance of Communication, Retirement Plan, Vital Equipment

I should preface this by sharing that Jeff has ally reputations with both the Raiders and Settlers. That said, ever since achieving that level of trust, he seldom ever visits The Crater or Foundation anymore. It was tough getting through their daily quests respectively, but Jeff was dedicated to keeping the peace between both factions. So, he would endure–searching endlessly for vacuum tubes, charming Raider hunters, and waiting for Ward to wake up to deliver precious equipment–out of kindness.

⬇️ The Mole Miners?

Jeff is a long-time customer of Purveyor Murmrgh, choosing to follow her from her old shop out in Berkeley Springs to The Rusty Pick. She doesn't always have the best deals for him, but when she does…it's a real lifesaver.

Really, Jeff has a soft spot for The Mole Miners. It's upsetting to him how they can't enjoy their treasures without being hunted, whether they are roaming around Appalachia or in Monongah. He would love to be allied to them, but until that day comes, he can only wish them the best. 💙

#oc: jeff stone #answered #ahhh i'm so wordy sometimes #i'm so excited to answer qs about jeff though 💙#fallout 76

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vexelier-suix-cipher · 2 years

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Photograph of Memories

Summary: The photograph scene with RZ Michael but it's you instead and you two get all soft with each other. ( @unnerving-presence )

Gender Neutral reader

Warnings: Slight knife mentions, dead person mention, murder mention, it's Michael Myers that should give you enough warning-

Genre: SFW, Fluff.

×VSC×

I haven’t written anything seriously in quite a while so excuse my horrible and rusty writing skills. Hope you enjoy though! If anything seems wrong just point it out aaaaaaa

-Fic under the cut

×××

You woke up slowly, eyes fluttering open and almost thinking you hadn’t opened them at all from how dark it was. You were sat up against a rough wall, maybe a building of sorts, but you couldn’t tell. As your eyes got used to the dim lighting of this place, you looked around. Everything was blurry at first but you could tell there was some sort of being, a person lying motionless a few feet away from you.

The shaky lighting of the Jack-o-lantern next to them was almost funny if it weren’t the fact they were one of the people that had accompanied you that night. You swallowed down a lump in your throat and sucked in a breath that you didn’t know you needed as you crawled over.

What you couldn’t see was the large figure watching you from the shadows just up ahead.

As you tried shaking them awake, tiredly crying out their name and cradling their head, he made his move. He was silent, like an owl stalking his prey. But this was different. You could see it as you snapped your head over to him. He wasn't creeping up on you, no, he was making sure you knew he was there.

“Who are you?! What do you want?!” You called out to him, a sob in your voice as the huge man made his way towards you with a knife in hand.

Michael had to steady his breathing as he got closer to you. You had definitely gotten even more attractive as the years went by. He had gotten so lost in your new, mature features that he had forgotten how scary he looked like this. When Michael saw your eyes flicker over to the knife in his hand, screaming to not hurt you, he dropped it hastily.

Clank.

Now he had your attention.

Once he was close enough, he dropped to his knees and took an extra second to admire you before reaching into the left pocket of his boiler suit and pulling out a worn photograph. You watched his actions intently. What was he doing? What did he want from you? Why wasn’t he killing you?

His hands were covered in grime and blood, the result of having killed so many people that night. But he was so gentle with the picture, treating it as if it meant absolutely everything to him as he slowly handed it to you.

You took a moment, scanning him for any ill intent. Once you didn’t find any, you hesitantly took the picture from his grasp. And that’s when your heart almost stopped in your chest. You recognized this picture. You had a copy of it framed in your home.

The picture contained two children, you and your best friend Michael when you two were about eight years old. He had an arm around your shoulders while you did the same to him, a wide smile on both your faces while you grinned at the camera. You remembered this day like it was yesterday.

You had finally lost your bottom left tooth when eating an apple with Michael at the park. The two of you had excitedly chatted about how to hide the tooth and guess how much money you would get from the ��tooth fairy’ when you went to sleep. You had decided on splitting the money between you and him since he ‘had been there when it fell out so he deserved at least half for such an amazing moment.’

You could go on for hours about that day, just not now.

The sunny sky of the park faded into the moment you were stuck in and when you looked up, the man no longer had his white mask on. Long strands of dirty blonde hair hung over his face and trailed down his shoulders. If you squinted, you could see the dark bags under his baby blue eyes. The same eyes in the picture.

Your brows furrowed and you took a minute to go from the picture to the man kneeling in front of you until your hand dropped down to set the picture aside. It was him. It was Michael.

“Michael..? Is- Is that you..?”

Michael could feel his body slump forward in relief, giving a small nod as you made your way over to him. He was still quite nervous, don't get him wrong, his knife was closer to you than it was to him and he kept his eyes trained on your hands while they moved across the soft soil you were situated on.

But you had forgotten about the knife as soon as you realized who was in front of you. “Oh, Michael….you look so tired..” You said softly, now sitting on your legs as your hands slowly reached up to cup his face. Surprisingly, he didn’t stop you from doing so. Those blue eyes you loved so much softened as they scanned your face as if wondering why you weren’t scared of him.

You used a hand to brush away those strands that covered his face, now revealing his full face to your eyes. He had some facial hair covering his chin and a bit above his upper lip. It was a bit scratchy but somehow soft at the same time. You could almost feel just how relieved he was from your actions, going all the way to letting his eyes droop shut as a long sigh was exhaled.

You sat there, running your fingers along his face until a huff was heard from Michael. You giggled and pulled him a bit closer, pecking his cheek with a smile. “You grew up to be so handsome Michael..” You cooed at him, laughing as he used his hands to bring you up and into his lap, resting his head against your chest. Your hands ran along his back and shoulders, allowing the shape of Haddonfield to hold you so close.

After so many years of being locked up in Smiths Grove,

Michael Audrey Myers was finally home.

×Vexelier×

#rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers #i havent written anything like this in years excuse my shit writing #slasher x reader #slashers #halloween #2007 halloween #rz michael myers #help what is this #its so bad I swear #long post

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shiedagabe · 3 years

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The Dream

Today was the day. Today was the day Heath had finally invited you to go to the local carnival, and it appears it was just in time, for today was the spooky month. You could see all types of decorations sprinkled and scattered around town: haunting ghosts hanging from street lamps, jack-o’-lanterns laying on the heavily decorated porches, ready to give unsuspecting kids a good scare, houses decorated like abandoned mansions, each one of them filled with enthusiastic and joyous actors; it couldn’t get any more perfect than this. You latched onto his tall arm, resting your head on it. He was surprised, even startled at first, but he looked at you with his brown eyes, ones which perfectly encapsulated the universe in its entirety. In them you could see everything, from the reflection of the nearby neighborhood and its decaying trees, which leaves fell smoothly because of the calming breeze. Each one of those leaves was unique in their own way; their color brought calm respite to those who admired them; to the immense forest that seamed ever-growing, for each time you looked at him you could see another tree in his immense greenwood, another dream in an innocent soul. He smirked at you, reassuring you that everything was okay, and even though you weren’t in any danger or expecting to be, that smile brought your heart to a calm rest. You decided to pick this neighborhood not only because Heath knew a lot of people that lived here, but also because you wanted to admire these small little trinkets that the town left around, they filled your heart with glee. You knocked on some doors, with your inner child mind jumping around happily, trick or treating the unsuspecting town folk, all in good spirit. They were surprised to see you together, they had no idea you had started dating, but they were more than happy to know that. Most of them invited you two to have dinner at their house since they hadn’t seen you in such a long time because “You had something more important to do”, his words, not yours.

You had finally arrived at the carnival and your bags were already filled to the brim with sweets and treats. You had so many rides to try out, so many haunted mansions to visit, you honestly thought you were only going to leave at the break of dawn, and you relished that idea immensely. You decided to start at the skeet shooting gallery, one that fascinated you because you never had any experiences with firearms, but always had a strong feeling towards. “Are you ready?” the carnival man asked, looking at you with a terrifying smile. He had makeup on, like, too much makeup, but it sure did set the mood for this wonderful night. He looked like the Devil incarnate, but you could see that his eyeliner was already fading; maybe he did this sort of thing as a way to get money and regretted his decision immensely, but you were too afraid to ask. You grabbed the shotgun and as soon as the plates started flying, the recoil hit your face. Heath laughed for a bit, but he noticed that you had a huge red spot on your face, so he caressed it slowly and told you how to hold it properly: “Look, you have to hold up the stock up to your cheek and you have to wedge its butt in your shoulder pocket, like this.” – He said, as he grabbed your hands and placed them properly, you could feel the difference in temperature, fluctuating in a battle against something you had ever known. His palms were hot and warm; they reassured you that what you were doing was right. His fingers, however, were rigid and freezing, cursed by Demeter to be forever cold, yet, somehow, you found comfort in them, and they enveloped your hands and put them where they should be. After trying for a couple of times, you finally managed to shoot down a plate or two. You were happy, really happy, and so was he, he gave you a big hug and whispered something into your ear – “Now watch and learn”. He paid the carnival man to give him another shot and he managed to shoot every single plate down, well, except for one. He blamed that the wind had gotten into his eye, but the man didn’t care because he had finally seen a happy couple, so he let this one slide and asked him to pick a prize. He turned his head to face yours, with a look that said “It’s all yours, pick what you want”. You excitedly asked for the giant fluffy mind flayer plushy, its dark robes and tentacle-like nature fascinated you, for you have never seen one before, and you found it really cute, although mysterious. You decided to try a couple more rides before the big finale, such as the whack-a-mole and the bumper car ride. Now that you think about it, the latter was the most fun attraction you had had in a while. You had to sit in different cars because the operator wouldn't let you ride them together, but you had a blast while doing so. Every time you crashed into each other you looked at each other in the eyes and laughed it off, but whenever someone crashed into you, you two would tag team that person and effectively turn them into a metal sandwich. You were making jokes and were constantly laughing, the night couldn’t have ended in a better way, but both of you wanted to try the miniature London Eye out. It was a perfect replica or the British attraction, but it was sized down as to give everyone a chance to ride it. He once again bought the tickets, and it just now hit you that he had been paying for everything the entire time. You pulled and tugged his shirt, but he already knew what you were nagging him about. He merely placed his finger over your lips and, with a quiet shush, reassured you that it was okay. You never had much money to begin with, but you felt bad letting him pay for every single ride at the carnival, but with that small little gesture you felt at ease and comfortable around him.

As you sat on the ride, you were jumping on the seat, excited to finally see the beautiful landscape that lied beyond the light-infected streets. As you reached the top you could see everything you had ever imagined. The city, which lit up amazingly with its yellow sheen, reminding you that every single one of those lights had a purpose, a meaning; they represented each individual that lived there; the forest, immense in its nature, dark and gloomy, hiding secrets that will forever be unknown to humanity. As you saw the ever-distant trees you turned to look at your significant other and he, too, was appreciating the beauty of this gargantuan view. “Isn’t this amazing?” – He asked, without turning his head to face you. “It really is.” – You replied, placing your hand on his firm leg. He looked at you, his eyes were darkened because of the poorly lit atmosphere the ride had, and his gaze reminded you of the timberland below. You held his hand to pull him in for a kiss, but you noticed that it started flaking off rapidly, revealing something which you couldn’t even imagine. His flesh was made of void of indiscernible quality, pure and fresh. You freaked out and screamed, because you had never seen such a thing before. “Are you alright?!” – You screamed, turning to look at his face to see what reaction he would have, but it was no longer there. What lied was an amalgamation of faces and countenances, all screaming in agony, trying to leave this immortal bastion. All of them were unrecognizable, they meshed together, malformed and contorted, and uttered of unspeakable horrors they had suffered, simultaneously. You threw yourself into the corner, trying to get away from this…, wicked and fowl beast, but it grew larger and larger. He, or better, it started scratching what was left of his skin, revealing something unnatural, eldritch, even. It had an uncountable amount of tentacles and eyes, faces and screams, all of them made of pure and unadulterated void, black and unalloyed as the night, and all of them had their eye on you. You closed your eyes and covered your face with your hands, waiting for this nightmare to end, but you suddenly felt a limp appendage touch your shoulder. You peeped through your hands, only to see his face in the millions of others that had joined his and, in an uncoordinated choir, it only managed to say this: “I love you, it wasn’t your fault”.

You jumped out of your bed, startled and afraid, grabbing your plushy as soon as you saw it. You held it near and dear to your heart, squeezing it as hard as you could because you were glad this nightmare was finally over. After being consoled by your tiny little companion, you turned your head to the left to look at the weather, it was raining, heavily, and you weren’t able to admire the urban beauty for a single moment. You turned your head down and realized that the queen sized bed was missing something, or rather, someone. You grabbed the pillowcase that lied on the fresh sheets, unwashed, and smelled it once more. You tell yourself you can still smell his essence, but there is nothing there, not anymore, only a cushion filled to the brim with sorrow and dried tears. You would have readied up to go to work, but you had been fired for mourning for too long, but you decided to get up anyway, dressing anything that would bring back his memories. The drive to the local graveyard was a small one, but one that emotionally took so long. It reminded you of every good memory you had, every kiss you shared, every glance you partook in. Sigh, it’s just a shame to see it all go. You opened the graveyard door, rusty and creaky; and greeted the security guard, but he already knew your name, after all, you were a local. You slowly walked in the mud which consumed your feet, little by little, and sat next to his tombstone, telling him about your day and how you had this weird dream, which he starred in, but the story was all the same. I guess some things never change. I guess some people never let go.

#heath ledger #heath ledger x reader #heath ledger imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #eldritch #horror #psychological horror #halloween #halloween fanfiction

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Amphibia Reviews: The Shut-In

More Halloween Havoc, whoop woop! The Plantars return just in time for Halloween! It’s Shut-In in Wartwood, their version of halloween, but less of a focus on getting candy and more on getting suplies to protect yourselve and barricade yourself in so the moon dosen’t turn you into a monster. I remain not suprised. To pass the time our heroes tell some true spooky stories and Polly tries to find one they weren’t around for. Phone-Mo: Anne and humanized versions of Polly, Maddie, and Toady watch a cursed video and soon disappear by one. Nothing ominous about that! Dead End: A young Hop Pop serves as Chauffer for a mysterious man played by george takei and death seems to follow them at every stop. Oh myyyyyyyy. Skin Deep: Sprig and Ivy go to fetch a lost ball and end up running into the skin stealing seamstress. Arson naturally insues.. It’s Terror Time again, with full recap and spoilers, under the cut.

Whelp, no dancing around it this airing order is weird. And look airing shit in a weird way has been disney’s past time since the 90′s, Darkwing Duck’s airing order is a waking nightmare, and this very show had all of season 1 air within the span of a month and a week in order to get it on disney plus by launch, star vs had it’s last season burned off in three months, and Ducktales pre-covid flip flopped from airing week to week to just one for some reason and then no others for months. Consitency is not their strong suit is what i’m saying and it’s not new. And yes I get these holiday special episodes are mecurial: their built specifically to slot in wherever without really upsetting continuity: The Casagrandes recently aired their first season 2 episode before even finishing season 1, so this isn’t just a disney thing, while speaking of disney things ducktales had it’s first proper halloweeen episode air the week before a spring break set episode, with a christmas episode set to air next month. What i’m saying is I get these things sometimes don’t air in production order, but it’s less excuable on Disney’s part here when it’d take airing exactly one episode for this not to be a tad jarring. Not enough that it spoils the episode nor does the episode effect the ongoing story or continuity in any way, so it’s not TERRIBLE but it smacks of lazy incompetence on Disney’s part and I wish they’d do better already.

Okay that rant out of the way we can dive right in! It’s the annual Shut-In in Wartwood! Basically their verison of halloween but instead of a fun spooky holiday, it’s the annual tradition of getting various things from the neighbors to help stay indoors during the blue moon, which in wartwood turns whoever views into a monster. Because of course their halloween is a fight for suvival. Also theirs pumpkins everywhere with their versions of jack o lanterns being fear gourds which.. okay. Point is instead of candy the kids trick or treating has turned up rusty nails, a hatchet, a first aid kit and anne, winning the night, a flamethrower! On one hand it’s neat these exist in wartwood via fire breathing slugs. On the other I do worry about Anne accidently burning everyone and everything down so please take that from her.

The Plantars then lock themselves in. To stave off bordeom, Shut-In tradition is to go around the fire and tell each other creepy true stories that happened to them. Polly tries going first but just has the Inn story from last season which they were all there for.. thought hat dosen’t make complete sense as they werent’ awake for all of it and shoudl’ve just let her tell her side of things. But eh it sets up polly’s plot so fair enough. Luckily anne has one. So we get our first tale of terror Terror Tales of the Park/Treehouse of Horror III Styles...

Phone-Mo

Anne’s story is very clearly made up, though no one really calls her on it and it DOES add elemnts from the domino II story from last season so fair enough. Rather than use her real friends, which is fair enough since she just sadly had to say goodbye to Marcy and probably isn’t handeling the guilt well and Sasha you know.. tried to stab her a few months back then tried sacrifcing herself for Anne’s own well being. Point is thnking about them is a loaaded issue right now so instead she dreams up human versions of Sprig, Polly, with a bucket on her foot for a shot which is a nice visual gag, as is how we meet them, along with Maddie and for some weird reason Toady. I mean I do get Ivy is in our third story, so fair enough, but they could’ve used.. anyone else. Wally would’ve made more sense honestly and he’s also an adult but he’s also you know Anne’s friend and not some town asshole she vaugley knows. It’s just weird. That said I do love the human designs for everyone and they clearly put a lot of work in knowing the fans would like them, with little touches like Polly having pink hair, sprig having his normal haircut he does under the hat but not covered up and toady’s phone having a little keychain of his amphibia version. Also while they all have diffrent names including Anne I won’t be using them on the grounds that I don’t wanna.

Anne and the plantars are watching a funny internet video when Toady and Maddie offer to show them one that’s apparently cursed and makes whoever watched it disappear. Sprig talks Anne out of it and keeps her from watching anyway but Polly’s naturally all in. ON the way to class, once sprig is gone, anne ends up watching it and liking it anyway because she has no self control and freely admits it. Naturally given this is a halloween episode, the others start disapearing, with Maddie coming to anne with support after Toady vanishes which again is just.. weird. It’s just weird to hear anyone car about wether toady lives or dies. It keeps throwing me off. Anne reasssures her but sure enough the second anne’s gone Maddie’s phone eats her alive. Still nice to see her again. Regular Maddie should get a hoodie. Also anne apparently eats the corners of her sandwitch so she dosen’t have to share. Clever girl. Back at home where Anne continues to mock whoever it is told her she can’t write stories as she makes a gila monster and a flamingo make out, where are they I must hurt them, when Sprig calls panicked that polly is missing and admits i’ts a good thing they ddin’t watch the video.. yeah about that. Sprig is of course freaked, and soon the video pops on anne’s phone and soon the weird cat thing inside comes to life and then turns deadly.. also it turns out it eats the host then forces them to be int he background of the video, which was hinted at earlier with one guy having been in there for 35 years.. despite having a smartphone. Well this is anne’s story I don’t think she knows those didn’t exist once.

Luckily Anne figures out how to beat it.. in the most hilarious way possible. by disliking it, since liking and commeting linked it to her, she weakens it before finishing it with a rude comment. It’s.. i’ts purespun comedy gold. This frees everyone else and they leave along with sprig.. but eggs are left behind. Dun dun dun. Final Thoughts on Phone Mo:

First off .. I have no idea what FOMO means so the title left me as lost at first at the plantars... oh okay it’s fear of missing out.. should’ve remebered that from brooklyn nine nine and amy’s legendadrily bad case of it. Aw well a decent story, if the weakest of the three. It does have an incredibly funny conclusion, neat human designs, and an intresting setting given while school stories are common, usually we don’t get that here so it’s a nice break from the norm. But compared to the genuinely chilling with a funny and odd climax next two, it’s just okay. Not bad, but not quite as good. Back in the present, Polly once again tries this time with children of the spore, once again being shot down though that being said hop pop’s line of “I was responsible for that one” was given a great delvery by charlie addler. Also Anne missed Wally’s birthday and he’s sad. oh Wally. Though i’m sure she’ll make it up to him.. at least he’s back home. So anyways speaking of HOp Pop, it’s his turn for a story...

Dead End: And it’s a story from Hop Pop’s Youth! Given we’ve never SEEN hop pop beyond his present day and only heard the ocasional scrap, it’s REALLY nice to hear. It dosen’t tell us a ton more granted, but we at least see what he looked like, get to hear charlie adler use a slightly less aged voice for him and get to see him with a luxrious golden mane of johnny bravo hair, which is as hilaroius and glorious as it sounds.

Back in those days Hop Pop was a coachman. He still had the farm, but given how tight things are now it’s not a stretch to assume he could always use some extra coppers to keep his family we never get to know about besides the grandkids fed. He also prides himself on honest work, not taking payment till the rides finished and the customer is satisfied which is INCREIDBLY risky, but I do kinda get it both for Hopidah’s sense of honor and because it seems clear he mostly does it in town by the fact all his stops this ep are within wartwood or close enough, so clearly it’s mostly people he knows personally. This time though the rider is the well dressed, crimson red Mr. Littlepot, played by George Takei. Best known for Star Trek, being out and proud and since coming out after years and years in the closet, using his celebrity to help promote gay rights and other good stuff. He’s also known for saying ohhhh myyy and this clip from futurama.

youtube

I got a lot of respect for the guy, He was even in archie comics once after Kevin Keller was introduced. So it’s nice to see him doing some voice work and he kills it here.. pun intended but more on that in a sec. Littlepot has some simple rule: keep driving no matter what hapepned where he was.. and given both places he ends up have someone dying, once by a horrifying looking snake, it’s clear somethings up. IT also nicely builds the tension as hop pop tries to steady himself, but is clearly cracking as he realizes his client might be murdering people he knows.. and he could be next. As Hopidiah KNOWS each person Littlepot visits and it nicely ratches up the tension. But turns out he’s not a killer.. he’s simplyd eath himself come to collect those already about to die.

It’s a nice twist: The genuine trappings of the guy make you think h’es some form of the devil, the crimson skin, yellow eyes and cultured demanor.. it’s only as he goes you start to realize what the man actually is and even then he easily could still be frog satan. But no he’s just the frog reaper and defends himself to Hop Pop when confronted: He’s just doing his job, just like Hopidiah, getting people where they need to be. Unforutnately for Hop Pop his final stop is the farm.. though thankfully for him he hasnt come for Hopidiah.. just his hair. Yeah it’s a nice comedic twist on an otherwise chiling and well done story that what the devil came to take is his hair.. which he starts wearing hilariously. So Hop Pop lives but sobs, and Anne points out it was pretty fucked up.

Final Thoughts for Dead End: Not much to say. This one was dripping with atmosphere, Takei was utterly awesome and need to do more voice work, and the comedic ending twist was really damn funny. Top notch.

Polly tries again, gets shut down again and is now really understandably frustrated at not having a story. Naturally given the other plantars have gone though, Sprig does. And he dosen’t have at itle at first until one cuts him off ....

Skin Deep:

Ivy’s Back!

Yeah I was genuinely worried the return ep would break up either her and sprig or hop pop and silvia.. and while the second one remains a horrifying sword of damocles over my head, Sprig and Ivy are fine and Ivy gets a nice spotlight episode here. It was a pleasant surprise to get some fresh info since i’tll be months till we find out anything else. So the young couple are playing bugball down at the old courts, when a couple of guys they were up to no good, started making trouble in the neghborhood. Sprig got in one little fight and Hop Pop got scared he said “your moving with your auntie and uncle to bell air”. He begged and pleaded day after day but Hop Pop packed his suit case and sent him on his way. He gave him a kiss and then he gave him a ticket Sprig put his walkman on and thought he might as well kick it. First class yo this ain’t bad, drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of bel air live like, yo, this might be alirght! He whistled for a cab and when it came near the liscene plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror, if anything he could say that this cab was rare but he thought man forget it yo holmes to bell air. He pulled up to the cab about 7 or 8 and yelled to the cabbie yo holmes smell ya later. He looked at his kingdom and he was finally there to sit on his throne as the fresh prince of bell air.

So then Will walked into the mansion and wait.. wrong show.. so the young couple are playing bugball when they loose their ball, and it goes off into the creepy part of the woods. Ivy also looses her hat and is self concious about her hair. Looks fine to sprig but she’d rather not. Aww she’s insecure. But the two head off with Sprig getting more and more nervous, as Ivy details a legend about the area of the seamstress, a mysterious recluse who steals your skin! Naturally Sprig is nettled while Ivy says it’s fine and does what anyone would do upon finding out the ball went into a creepy abandoned shack in a world where it’s clear murderers are pretty common: kick down the door! It’s the perfect crime.

Naturally Sprig gets more unernved, finding a set of needles and thread, which gets a great gag as Ivy points out that’s nto that uncommon.. but the giant pile of skin they find sure is!

Oh.. it gets worse me. Sprig finds the ball. and the Seamstress who has a horrifying patchwork of skins on her and wants to add theirs.. the kids are naturally spooked and prepare to flee but she wants their skin and grabs ivy! Thankfully she breaks free and Sprig busts some off.. OH GOD.. and it turns out she’s a glass frog! .. turns out theres a kind of frog that has translucent skin.

But yeah obvoiusly the show takes it a step further, and her skin is entirely see through. Poor girl. Ivy sympathizes shows off her hair.. then puts her hat over the Seamstress’ eyes and tells sprig now, and sprig starts a fire, and the two start to escape when he grabs Ivy’s leg!

Thankfully Ivy breaks free and the two leave her to die. Sprig compliments ivy’s hair, ivy gets him a smooch it’s all adorable and they defintely murdered someone who defintely murdered a lot of people. Horay!

Naturally the rest of the family is freaked out by this with Anne wanting to know if ivy being bitten means sh’es infected and Hop Pop wanting to know if one of her skins was his friend fred he hasn’t seen in a while. Sprig then spooks them by having ivy show up, complete with a burlap frog skin.. maybe. She could’ve been lying. We dunno. Ivy heads home to risk her life for a good gag, depsite the fact her boyfriend’s house is right there and her mom and grandmom clearly had to sign off on this shenanigan given the night. But this life risking prank naturally risks some life as Polly has ran off to look at the moon to get her own story. The rest of hte family runs after her only tfind it did.. ntohing. She’s apparently fine just fine and they assure her the fear they felt thinking she might become some kind of monster was scarier than any story and the rest of them head home with polly following.. after transofrming. Turns out the moon DOES make you into monsters but she’s fine with it. She’s got her legs now! Everyone screams understandably, Anne finally realizes this isn’t quite a holiday the end.

Final Thoughts on Skin Game and the special as a whole: Easily my faviorite, partly for shipping reasons as I do like Ivy and Sprig together, and partly because it really let Ivy have a roll OTHER than sprig’s love intrest. Sure she still smooched his cheek and their clearly still together, but she got to be proactive, badass and hilariously impulsive and trollish. It was a nice change of pace and the story itslef was the best of the bunch to me becuase of that, though Dead End was really close. Overall this was a nice treat, a good anthology with lots of fright and humor and a nice wraparound story arc with polly, as well as some nice call backs to previous episodes. An utterly excellent halloween special i’ll probably be revisiting every year and another slam dunk from disney this year. The airing snaufu really dosen’t hurt it any and in the future this one will likely be after Return to Wartwood on D+ anyway so no harm done. Great all around. If you liked this review follow me for more amphibia whenever it comes back, ducktales reviews every monday, and loud house reviews every saturday or sunday depending. And until next time stay safe, stay spooky and happy halloween!

#amphibia #the shut in #anne boonchuy #hopidiah plantar #sprig plantar #polly plantar #ivy sundew #george takei #mr littlepot #one eyed willy #halloween #halloween reviews #reviews

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duchessfics · 5 years

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An Afternoon of Trickery

(https://julianemilian0.tumblr.com/post/178711567301/sarah-paulsons-characters-on-american-horror)

(https://kylos.tumblr.com/post/179092578061)

Ally x Fem!Reader x Cordelia

Warning(s): None!

Summary: Oz picked a couple pumpkins to carve, but you deal with some tricks as you help out with carving them.

Word Count: 1504

A/n: I haven’t written for these three in a while, but I missed it! Hopefully I stayed true to their characters (I feel like I’m a little rusty with their dynamics). But here is some fluff for your weekend. I know I posted a headcanon this week already, but I had this drafted to publish this week so I figured I would post it. I hope you enjoy!

Sentence Prompt from @lillie-writes (Here is the link to the original post)

17. “It’s just unfair to carve your pumpkin on both sides! It’s cheating!” “It’s creativity, you should try it.”

After staying up far too late finishing the latest season of your favorite TV show, you snuck into bed where Cordelia and Ally peacefully slept. You thought you would be fine with enough coffee to make it through the day. However, by mid-afternoon you can hardly keep your eyes open. So, you sneak off to Cordelia’s office and lay down in her personal loveseat, your favorite spot to take a nap. Luckily, she isn’t in there to chastise you about staying up too late, so you curl up in your oversized hoodie and fall asleep.

However, you wake up to someone shaking you and saying your name—Oz. “Wake up, sleepyhead!” He says in a far too loud and cheerful tone. You let out a groan of protest, but he persists. “Wake up! Mom and Miss Cordelia got some pumpkins!” By now you manage to crack your eyes open and you see both of your girlfriends in the background smirking. “Are you awake?” Oz asks, making you look to his face that is inches from yours. While you are normally down for anything with Oz, your sleepy self is not happy at being awakened.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, satisfied at seeing your eyes open. But you rub your eyes, trying to gain your senses and ask through a long yawn, “What were you saying?” Oz lets out an exasperated sigh and scolds, “I was saying we got some pumpkins to carve tonight. So, you need to come down to the greenhouse with us.” Your eyes start to get heavy again and you reply, “Mm-hm.” Before pulling the drawstrings on your hoodie to cover your eyes and turning away, already feeling sleep take over again.

Oz says your name and shakes you with his hands, but you stay curled up. Luckily, he stops and walks away, and you begin to fall asleep once more. However, you cry out as someone tickles your ribs and doesn’t stop. As your turn back, instead of seeing Oz you see Ally is the one who initiated this ambush, her eyes with a mischievous glint. She keeps moving her hands up and down your sides making you giggle and squirm. “Ah! I’m awake! I’m awake!” You cry out. But Ally just chuckles and says, “You say that, but we need to make sure you really are, honey.” Your eyes begin to well up with tears from laughing so hard and your other girlfriend comes up to look over you. You say her name, calling for mercy, but she just smiles and says, “You think she’s going now, but if you hit this spot just right,” Then she reaches down to poke just under your armpit making you cry out. “There she is.” Cordelia murmurs with a grin as tears now spill out of your eyes.

Finally, they stop their movements and let you catch your breath. “So…pumpkins.” Ally teases as Oz laughs in the background. You sit up, taking your hood off before saying, “Fine.” Then Oz leads the three of you down to the greenhouse. Once there, Ally lifts and places two pumpkins on one of the worktables. Then Cordelia takes a knife and cuts out a small hole on the top of both pumpkins to get to the inside. She sets the knife aside along with the tops that will be used later before asking, “Do you want to remove the insides, Oz?” He walks over, not much taller than the seated pumpkins and tentatively reaches his hand in one of the holes. But as soon as he touches the slimy insides, he whips his hand back and says, “Ew, no. That’s ok.” You chuckle at his reaction, but that dies in your throat as the supreme looks to you and curls her finger, gesturing for you to come over.

Without asking she hands you a spoon to scoop out the insides. You take it with a sigh and roll up your sleeves while Cordelia brushes her hair back into a ponytail. She doesn’t fix her hair in an updo often, but you like it when she does especially how a couple loose hairs frame her face just right. You begin to dig in, grimacing at the slippery texture, but Cordelia pauses and murmurs, “Ally, darling?” The senator blushes as she looks to Cordelia and asks, “Yes?” The blonde smiles and says, “Could you bring out a container for us to put these insides in? I think I’ll roast the seeds for an autumnal snack. It would be a shame for them to go to waste.” Ally says yes and brings out a massive bowl, placing it between you and Cordelia. But before she can walk away, Cordelia thanks her and gives her a peck on the lips. Then you both begin your work.

While you and Cordelia dig out the pumpkins’ contents, Oz and Ally talk about what should be on the pumpkins. As he talks about different faces and draws sketches you say, “You could make it a pumpkin carving competition.” His face lights up at the idea and he says, “Yeah! I’ll draw the designs and be the judge after you three carve them out.�� Both Ally and Cordelia agree, so he sets out a plan.

By the time you’re finished scraping everything out, you are worked up to a sweat and feel the muscles in your arm ache. Meanwhile Cordelia doesn’t seem bothered by the activity at all. In that moment you resent her special powers as the supreme. But you can never be mad at her for too long. Fortunately, you get a break as Oz draws on the designs he wants on them.

Once he finishes, you smirk at your girlfriends, seeing you got an easy, basic jack-o-lantern design. Oz announces that you may begin so you take a knife and begin to carve out your design. You thought this would be easy, but making sure the knife cuts accurately is trickier than it looks. But you manage and let out a sigh of relief when you are halfway done. However out of the corner of your eye you see Ally and Cordelia doing something absurd. They pause their movements and Ally looks to you before asking, “Do you need something, sweetheart?” It’s only then that you realized your jaw dropped in shock. But you recover enough to say, “It’s just unfair to carve your pumpkin on both sides! It’s cheating!” They both chuckle at your accusation and Cordelia teases, “It’s creativity.” Then Ally adds, “You should try it.” Your eyes narrow at their remarks, but you get back to cutting as you say, “Oh, it is on.” And you begin to finish carving the best pumpkin there will ever be.

Upon finishing you are a sweaty mess with pieces of pumpkin in your hair from running your fingers through it. But you feel satisfied as Oz grins and at seeing your creation, saying, “This looks awesome!” You wipe your forehead with the back of your arm before replying, “I’m glad you like it, kid.” And he declares all three of you winners. Then he carries one pumpkin out to the front porch while Ally carries the other. Meanwhile Cordelia takes the bowl containing the pumpkin seeds to the kitchen. You begin to clean up the mess made on the worktable and floor around it. However, you nearly jump out of your skin as someone hugs you from behind.

The short hair indicates that Ally is the one behind you and as she chuckles against your neck you know it’s her. “Did I scare you, honey?” she murmurs in your ear. You twist your neck a little to look at her before replying, “Not as much as your tickling ambush earlier.” At that Ally giggles and cups your face before murmuring, “Awe, poor thing.” But her eyes look unusually devious compared to her usual serious expression. Then her hand snakes down to your side and she gives you a poke making you whine.

“Oh, are you tired, sweet girl?” the supreme asks. Ally releases her hold so you can turn around to look at them both. Then you chuckle and shake your head as you say, “You two are full of tricks today.” They both grin and Cordelia steps closer before cupping your cheek, soothing, “We’ve been a little trickier than usual with you today. But after Oz goes to bed, we’ll give you a special treat.” After hearing that you perk up and say, “Treat?” Ally chuckles and tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear as she purrs, “How about a nice bath to help you unwind? And maybe something more?” Your cheeks warm and you squeak, “That would be nice.” Making them both laugh.

But before anymore can be said, Oz re-enters, talking about his game plan for trick or treating. So, they let you go and you have to hold back a whimper. But you do, looking forward to whatever treat they have planned.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @lush-les-lady, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

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dearkaelsman · 4 years

Note

Ultimate Ship Meme: DEAMIRI!!! (As if you would expect anything less from me)

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General:

How long will they last? - They have some ups and downs, but they’re endgame. Til death do they part.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Dearka fell faster than Miriallia did. He thought she was cute right off the bat, but she interested him, too, being the only Natural he’d met, at that point, that he’d seen defend Coordinators. But with her getting over Tolle, it took some time for him to charm his way into her good books.

How was their first kiss? - Sweet, if a little tentative.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Dearka

Who is the best man/men? - Yzak. Maybe Athrun. In an AU where Rusty and Nicol live, them, too.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - You mean bridesmaids? Murrue? Possibly Meyrin since they seemed to be close.

Who did the most planning? - Miriallia and Dearka’s mom.

Who stressed the most? - Miriallia.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Flay Allster because she’s dead, any members of Blue Cosmos/LOGOS,

Sex:

Who is on top? - Depends on the position. Dearka usually is ‘top’ in respects to dominance, but he enjoys when Miriallia takes charge every once in awhile.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Dearka usually.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head (They’ll try a lot before they completely shut it down. Light bondage is a favourite. Not into anything that would hurt each other.)

How long do they normally last? - Depends on the situation.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Dearka would try and make sure she got off more. Men supposedly have limited bounce-back capabilities, so to speak.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. (Again, this depends on the situation, so I picked the middle ground)

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2

How many children will they adopt? - 0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Miriallia. Dearka’s a military man, after all. But he does change his fair share - especially with their second. Who knew it was a 50/50 chance their son would start to pee every time they went to change a diaper?

Who is the stricter parent? - Depends. They’re stricter about different things, but Miriallia would likely be more strict.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Miriallia

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Dearka. Miriallia can’t cook so if the kids want to eat, he better do it.

Who is the more loved parent? - Depends. They’re loved in different ways. But Miriallia would be more present, so leaning towards her.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Pretty sure PTA meetings are only on movies. But Miriallia.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Miriallia.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? -Dearka. It would align with his job.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Dearka

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Miriallia

Who does the grocery shopping? - Miriallia

How often do they bake desserts? - They go through binges where they’ll have dessert a lot, then other times not at all.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Dearka is definitely a meat person, and Miriallia a salad person, so they compromise and have ~*BaLaNcEd MeAls*~

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Dearka

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Miriallia.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Miriallia. 100 per cent.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Miriallia

Who is really against chores? - Dearka. You expect him to follow the strict rules and procedures of the military and then come home and do the same there? Not happening.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Both.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Neither.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Miriallia

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Miriallia

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Miriallia

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - How dare you insinuate they’re dog people. Their lives are too busy for the neediness of a dog, and Dearka’s Egyptian heritage has to show somewhere, so they have a cat. It stays outside, but Dearka likes taking it into the backyard so it can frolic in nature supervised.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They go big on Christmas. Not really much decorating any other holiday, except a few jack-o-lantern’s at Halloween.

What are their goals for the relationship? - In the public sense, to show Coordinators and Naturals can live together peacefully, but often on a personal level, it’s to find balance between their jobs and the risks that come with them. Most of their fights stem from one of them doing something too dangerous and making the other worry. Also to have children, because it’s my personal headcanon that it would be super important on the PLANTs given the infertility issues with Coordinators. Having a relationship with a Natural would prevent their kids from having the same issue.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Dearka, if he’s at home.

Who plays the most pranks? - Dearka

#mirialliahaw

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khadorek · 4 years

Text

Hallow’s End Heat: Part 1

This has been written for the third week of the Weekly Writing Challenge! It has been a while since I tried a longform post like this, so excuse my rustiness.

Warning: Contains sexual innuendo, viewer’s discretion is advised.

It had been a little over a month since the duel that saw the end of the Fourth War, and despite the ominous storm clouds that loomed on the horizon, the concept of a lasting peace finally coming to the Alliance and Horde was the cause for many a great celebration; families were at long last reunited, soldiers returned to their waiting lover’s arms, and many military and paramilitary organizations celebrated a job well done, and the Brotherhood of Valor was no exception. The early evening was fairly tame; a few adults in costume strewn about the common room chatting, relaxing, having a few drinks, and all around enjoying the evening they had off while those with children had left for the major cities to take them Trick or Treating. Things only got rowdier as the evening went on, as parties with alcohol involved so often do, not helped by the return of the children not long after the sun had gone down, eager to enjoy their sugary bounty before being sent fruitlessly to bed. The adults, meanwhile, directed their attention to the makeshift stage that had been put up for the contest many of them had been waiting for; the costume contest.

Thursday, October 31st, 10:26 pm, The Hinterlands

“…and last, but certainly not least,” Sebastian announced, shifting in his Headless Horseman costume a bit, and squinting through the black fabric that covered his face as his “head” was running around and playing with the little Pandaren child with a ghostly sheet over her head. Once he got the names down, he looked back up and continued his announcement, “Khadorek Blackbyrne and Katharena Graeson!” On cue, they strode out onto the stage, waving to the crowd as they did so, much like those before them had done. To no one’s surprise, they had, of course, gotten matching costumes and both seem to have taken to it with gusto.

“They’re back from the high seas, it seems; I tried going there once, Hope and Jhulya stopped me, and now I’m not allowed to sing anymore.” Sebastian added, causing part of the audience to groan audibly. As for Katharena and Khadorek, they indeed cut quite the swashbuckling duo; Khadorek was dressed in tough deck hand attire, with heavy black boots over tight leather seaman’s trousers, paired with a loose swashbuckler’s top and a red bandanna covering the top of his head, causing his thick brown hair to fall almost entirely down over his back. His scars were highlighted to look more recent, making him look even more rugged than he naturally was, and with a black leather eye-patch to round out the look. Hefting the faux boarding axe over his shoulder, he cut quite the realistic pirate, if a bit simplistic compared to his counterpart. Katharena, meanwhile, went for a much more ornate, pirate admiral design for her costume; thigh high black boots with heels making her just that little bit more imposing in regards to her height, the tops of which were mostly hidden underneath a mid-thigh length skirt, the perfect mix of frilly and utilitarian. For a top she wore what could only be described as a mix between a low cut, button-down vest and a corset, made of brown leather and cinching her already tight waistline to even more waspish proportions, paired with a long navy blue coat to make her look even more like a captain; as if the fake parrot on her shoulder and tricorn hat upon her blazing curls didn’t already sell the look. The pair of them made sure to show off their costumes, and Kath, perhaps to seal the deal, discreetly snapped her fingers and caused a gust of sea breeze to come into being behind them, causing their last pose to look particularly dynamic. The audience applauds at the extra showmanship as they stepped down, and Sebastian carefully makes his way up on stage to close things off.

“Now those were some really great costumes, I think,” he begins, still wearing his face cover, “we’ll be giving out the prizes once the votes are counted, so be sure to get your votes in now!” He states, beginning to make his way back to his seat as the votes began to come in. Having submitted theirs before they went on ‘stage,’ Khadorek and Katharena made their way to their spot by the bar to get away from the small crowd near the stage.

“Well, that went pretty good!” Khadorek remarks, ordering his usual and easing back into his seat, “nice touch with the wind there; you have that planned?” He asks.

“Nope, spur of the moment.” Katharena replies, awkwardly hopping up into the seat next to him and letting out a heavy sigh of relief as she gets off of her feet. “Ah, damn these heels.”

“You alright?” Khadorek asks, taking his drink and offering to help her up into the stool, something he was used to doing by now, but was waved off; she did that a lot, her independent streak not fettered in the slightest even with him. He always liked that about her; that spunky, tough, farm girl competitive nature appealed to him in ways he never thought it would.

“I’m fine,” she assures him as she finally settles into the seat, crossing her legs and ordering herself a daquiri. “Just these damn boots, I know they’re supposed to be authentic, but I just can’t see a sailor, even a pirate wearing heels like these on duty.”

“Well, the one that was helping you seemed pretty insistent that her old captain wore something like that.” Khadorek retorts.

“These people kidnapped you, remember; new leaf or not, I’d be hesitant to be to trust them.” Katharena counters as she gets her drink, mixing the crush ice in the glass with the straw before taking a sip. “Also, I’m convinced that she was checking me out throughout that whole thing; I mean, look at my outfit,” she gestures to herself, “You don’t think it’s too showy, do you?”

“In hindsight, you do have a point,” Khadorek admits, “and yeah, she absolutely was, but you gotta admit, it gave her an edge; you look even more amazing than normal.” He purrs, doing his best to keep his eyes from lingering on her figure for too long.

“I know you like it, dirty boy,” she teases with an eye roll, seeing through his attempt at hiding his gaze almost immediately, pushing her biceps together on either side of her chest and subtly bouncing her ample bosom while fluttering her eyelashes, causing him to look away flustered and red cheeked, “don’t act like you haven’t been just as bad tonight. If you can think about it with the head on your shoulders for a moment, I want to know if this was too much for a company party.” She asks again, her soft lips curled into a teasing smirk. Khadorek shifts uncomfortably in his seat as his dirty mind is punished in a most ironic way, but he can’t help but smile at how playful she was being.

“You want me to be honest? If Keaye,” he begins, gesturing to the incredibly plush Pandaren woman who had since stumbled back to and began leaning heavily on the bar, skimpy ninja costume straining perhaps a bit more than it should as she downs yet another flaming shot of alcohol, “isn’t getting any trouble, you’re more than in the clear. And maybe so, but you’re hardly innocent either, nor as slick as you think, unless you have been making sure I haven’t sat in something.” He teases right back. “Besides, I’m fairly certain I’ve got more cleavage in this shirt than you do in yours.” He adds, pushing his pecs together in much the same way a woman would do with her chest. Katharena, in the process of going a touch red in the cheeks herself and taking a drink to steady herself, sees this and immediately snorts and nearly chokes as she begins laughing.

“Shut up, you!” She giggles, giving him a playful push and causing him to chuckle as he nearly falls off. “I think we both know who has the best tits here.” She quips right back as she goes back to her drink. Khad’s eyes widen into an expression of amused disbelief at what she just said.

“How many drinks have you had?” He asks her, setting his whiskey down as she sips away at her daiquiri, happily shifting side to side in her seat to the music playing throughout the bar. When she finally stops and turns to Khadorek, there is barely a splash left of liquid and flavored ice in her glass, and he doesn’t need to hear what she says next to know she’s pretty much hit her limit.

“I’ve gone drink for drink with you, handsome,” she states proudly, leaning forward with a coy grin on her face. Khadorek is floored; it was rare she ever drank like this at all, let alone match him. Thankfully, it had been a short evening, but regardless, she was not known for her constitution; he had to step in.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” He affirms, going to put the drink out of reach before his hand was pushed aside.

“Oh, come on now, I was pacing myself!” She complains, turning more towards him, “I was only drinking these things,” she gestures to the daquiri, “they’re no where near the stuff you drink. Besides, I feel fine.”

“You say that now, but come the morning…” Khadorek tells her, knowing all too well what it was like the morning after. “You finish that drink, then your cut off, okay? Don’t want you to ruin your morning tomorrow.” He states. Katharena pouts, but capitulates. Khad smiles and was about to thank her, when he felt something tugging at his leg. Looking down, he sees a little Draenei girl dressed as a Jack-o-lantern; it was little Hope, Sebastian’s daughter.

“Daddy wanted me to bring this to hyoo.” She says in her Draenei accent, holding up a basket of assorted teas and various edible sundries, all of which bore the mark of Loshu. “Congratulations on weening cutest couple, he says!” Naturally, the couple smile and graciously accept their prize.

“Thank you Hope, and you look adorable in your costume.” Katharena says sweetly, mostly managing to feign sobriety in front of the little one, who giggles and does a cute little courtesy before running back to play with Zhaemia and the others. Katharena leaned back into the chair with a sigh, and Khadorek lets out a soft chuckle.

“The children sure are having a good time tonight, don’t you think?” Khadorek remarks, watching the little ones play their game of tag; darting between the tables, chairs and patrons with ease. Katharena, however, does not remark on this. “Kath? Did you hear me?” He asks again, and again no response. Khad turns to face her, and sees her going for his drink. “What are you doing?” He asks in obvious confusion, and she snaps her gaze to him and withdrew her hand. He was about to ask what had gotten into her, but then he saw the look on her face; that look, and his mood softened to one of pity. “C word, right?” He asks, and she nods sullenly; Khadorek raises his arm and almost immediately, she snuggles into his side, letting him rest his hand on her back. “I’m sorry honey, sometimes I forget how much that bothers you.” He consoles her, and she nuzzles her head into his shoulder with a sigh. He knew how much she wanted children of her own, and seeing others with thriving families always exacerbated those feelings; he couldn’t imagine how rough it felt with liquor bringing all those feeling and unhappy thoughts she normally kept hidden bubbling to the surface, aside from that it must hurt, a lot. “Don’t worry, love, we’ll get there eventually, I promise.”

“I know, I know…” she replies, nuzzling into his shoulder even more, “it’s just hard sometimes… they all have their families, and all I can think is that I came so close and then…”

“If that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here right now, would we? We would never have met.” Khadorek counters, hoping to stop the tears before they even started, “Kath, honey, I love you, and I am going to give you everything that you want; everything that was taken from you will be yours again, and I’m going to give it to you, just like you’ve done for me.” He says in the most assuring tone he can muster. Katharena is quiet for a while, and Khadorek was nervous he hadn’t calmed her enough. Eventually, a smile, albeit a sad one, comes to her face, and Khad lets out a gentle sigh as he begins to soothingly rub her back.

“Thank you, my love,” she replies softly, scooting her barstool towards him and moving to kiss his cheek. “I think I need to just get my mind off all of this for a while,” she adds, eyes locking with his, “and I know exactly what I need for that…”

“And what is…” Khadorek begins to say before he notices her smile becoming much more playful, AND where her hand was now resting; most anyone would have just figured she just had her hand on his thigh, but they both knew that was far from the case. “Honey, are you sure, you’re pretty drunk right now…”

“And we both know how I get when I’m drunk…” She purrs as she cuts him off, biting her lip as she felt the fruits of her earlier teasing. Khadorek swallowed and blushed a bit at how forward she was being; he DID know that she got affectionate when she drinks, and around him, affection very swiftly turned to her getting very, very amorous. She KNEW he loved it when she acted so brazen, and such a play to his desires was swiftly breaking down his resolve. She used her other hand to lift his free hand to her cheek, fluttering her eyes in such a way that made his stomach do backflips. “Khad, my love, I want you; I need you,” she purrs, lifting her head from his shoulder and getting right up to his face, “the night is still young; let’s go upstairs and have some fun.” That was all it took, and they both pulled each other into a deep, strawberry flavored kiss; Khad’s other arm pulled her yet closer to him, practically into his lap, and Katharena looped both her arms around him, taking hold of his broad, muscular back, though this did not prevent her from subtly teasing him, as sitting in his lap provided her a whole host of options in that regard. When the kiss finally broke, he had fully fallen under her metaphorical spell, and a devious grin spread across his face.

“Well, if that’s what Katharena wants, that’s what she’s gonna get.” He growls softly, and Katharena’s grinning cheeks redden to hear him so eager; such plays seemed to work on both of them in equal measure. “Lead the way, beautiful.” He added, and that was all that needed to be said before she was hopping down to the ground with a soft click of her heels, taking his hand and leading him towards the stairs.

To be continued...

@quipsbykath @weekly-writing-challenge @ogrimskar (for reference to his character Loshu)

#saucy!#Weekly Writing Challenge #week 3 #Ish

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authorannealysse · 5 years

Text

So you’re creeping into the suspicious moonlit cornstalks of extremely rural Ohio -- and why in the Lord’s glorious name are you trying to sneak, anyhow? I’m literally speaking, out loud, right now, from the depths of your miserable little pocket, and this narrative only exists if you hear it -- and -- oh, there we go! Running start into the corn, brandishing a Buck Knife that’s seen better days and a bravery I’ve not seen since my first tour with the Midwestern Bog Witches of Indiana, and --

Oh, my. What do we have here?

No, son! No! Put the knife down! What you’ve come across is your standard-issue Bewitched Scarecrow (the full moon does these kinds of things, you know), and I think he’ll be more of a help to you than a hindrance. “It’s dangerous to go alone; take this,” and all that, am I right?

Oh, sure, he’s struggling on his post and trying desperately to reach you with those rusty garden shears he has for hands, snapping and noisily creaking all the while, but that’s an easy enough problem to solve. Would you like a new and much more effective weapon?

Why, you move quicker than a burlap sack with a Jack-o-lantern face stuffed full of straw, don’t you? You’re a football player, after all! ...No? An athlete of some sort, at least?

I feel like we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other, Ethan. Is your name Ethan? Ah, well. I can’t hear you, anyway. You can call me what you like, and I’ll tell myself you’re a handsome farm boy football player named Ethan, short for Ethaniel.

Well, Ethaniel, all you’ll need to do is lop his arms off with that lovely knife of yours, jerk that little piece of wood holding him up out of the ground, and voila! You’ve got yourself an angry hammer filled with moon-magick that has all sorts of potential for this sort of adventure!

And what an adventure it’s shaping up to be, eh, Ethan? If you look over the corn there to your left, you’ll just be able to make out the looming shadow of an old farmhouse in the distance -- and the movement of an overly interested shadow in the faint light of an upstairs window, or perhaps I’m just imagining that part.

You’ve caught on by now, haven’t you? The perfectly good shears for hands that could have just as well been a bit of extra straw for our scarecrow friend here, the overly active cricket hellspawn that have so obviously been exposed to dark magick recently, the house just within walking (and watching) distance of the exact spot where your truck so conveniently broke down...

Why, they’re casing you, son. You’re about to become part of a ritual you’ll never emerge from with your life or your limbs intact -- unless you trust me.

Do you trust me, Ethaniel?

I have a plan.

#midwestern occult

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kaymcspaddenauthor-blog · 5 years

Text

Children of the Star: A Star Trek Story

Chapter One: “Nyota Means Star in Swahili”

Disclaimer: No money made here. A labor of love only.

Spock almost never dreams. For a long time after he lost his mother, he slipped into troubled nightmares whenever he closed his eyes to rest, but those stopped long ago—years, though at this moment he cannot calculate the exact number. Nine years since his mother’s death, or perhaps ten? He is never unsure when he is awake.

Yet he is certain he isn’t asleep. He knows he is sitting cross-legged in front of his asenoi in the crew quarters he shares with Nyota. She is still on duty on the bridge of the Enterprise, monitoring the communications between stellar cartography and a shuttle survey team sending back data on the only variable star in this quadrant.

Variable stars of this magnitude are not rare and the work should be routine. Ever since the ship entered orbit, however, the crew has reported unusual neurological and psychological symptoms to sickbay.

Radiation emitted by all stars affects organic life in some way, so the fact that Procis 241 might influence the crew’s behavior is not, in and of itself, cause for concern. Earth’s star, for instance, provides the requisite energy for plants and animals to thrive.

Of course, overexposure also causes epidermal burns and cancers.

That doesn’t mean that Procis 241 is necessarily a danger, or even the cause. Any number of reasons for the headaches and dizziness the crew have reported are possible, including a parasite or another contagion. The Enterprise crew also could be suffering the normal effects of being in close quarters without shore leave for an extended period of time.

Even Nyota has been exceptionally irritable with him lately, snapping with uncharacteristic anger at minor annoyances. Hence his choice to work separate shifts, and his increased need for meditation. Part of him hopes their current rift is the result of the star and not proof of an inevitable slide into a parting of the ways.

Speculating about the star and its effects is pointless until the survey team finishes gathering data in 12 hours. Or 13. Spock feels something close to alarm at the gap in his memory.

“Are you well?”

The voice is both familiar and not. Spock opens his eyes and looks into the face of a young woman. Her worried gaze is human, but her features—upswept brows and ears—are Vulcan. With a jolt, he knows who she is.

“I am...fine,” he says. “Daughter.”

The syllables are odd on his tongue. Surely she has a name, something he calls her that is less formal. He casts about in his memory but comes up with nothing.

The young woman—his daughter—leans over and puts her hands on her knees so she can peer more closely at him. “Are you certain? You seem distracted.”

Looking around, Spock sees that they are in a park, he sitting cross-legged on a blanket spread over the grass. In the distance, children laugh. A motorized scooter rumbles past. A warm breeze lifts a matted strand of his hair and he shivers.

If this is a dream, it is far more detailed and realistic than any he’s had in the past. And although he occasionally indulges in imagined scenarios while he meditates, he is always the conscious author. This is something different.

The young woman stands up straight and crosses her arms. “Are you going to sit there all day? I thought you were going to show me around.” Her tone is playful and she grins as she speaks, something no Vulcan would do. A human would, and in particular, the human he knows best.

Spock gives an audible sigh of relief. Nyota must be somewhere nearby.

“Where is your mother?”

“Who knows,” his daughter says, shrugging. “She and Bubba went to see some boring something a little while ago.”

“Bubba?”

“I know he hates it when I call him that, but Uncle Jim was right. All brothers need to be teased.”

Spock is mystified but also quietly delighted. This young woman is obviously Nyota’s child—graceful and dark and mischievous like her mother. But she is his daughter, too, her Vulcan features and dry wit part of his inheritance.

“Now, are you going to come on?” She raises her voice slightly and Spock gets to his feet.

“Berlin,” he says, recognizing the park, though he cannot remember its name. His father took him here once on a tour of European capitals before he’d applied to the Vulcan Science Academy. They’d had an argument—here, in this park—and the rest of the trip had been awkward and silent.

Not an argument, but a disagreement. Sarek did not argue. He pronounced what was, and Spock either agreed or was wrong.

The argument in the park—the disagreement—was about trees, of all things. Sarek had insisted that the trees in bloom were a species of oak, but Spock was equally sure they were linden.

“The linden trees of Europe were extinct by the late 21st century,” Sarek said. “A fungus destroyed them all. You are mistaken.”

“Nevertheless,” Spock said, “the scent of linden pollen is unparalleled. Surely you noted it. And although oak leaves resemble linden to a degree, it is you who are mistaken. Obviously, some linden trees survived the mass extinction to which you referred.”

A twitch crossed his father’s face. When he spoke, Sarek sounded annoyed and disappointed in equal measure. “Why do you always question what I say? Why are you like this, Spock?”

Even now—even here in this not-dream world—Spock feels a measure of surprise at what he did then.

“As you know,” he said, locking his gaze with his father’s, “I am the product of my genes and my environment, and you are responsible for both.”

The scent of linden trees wafted around them like an aftertaste of a bitter meal.

His daughter—the young woman whose name he does not know—runs ahead of him. “Come on!” she calls back. “There’s not much time!”

He picks up his pace and breathes in the heavy fragrance of the trees. His daughter stops abruptly and turns to him, lifting her arms over her head to indicate the canopy of green leaves.

“This!” she says, her tone joyful. “I want to learn all about this!”

“They are linden trees,” Spock says, grateful to have something to say. “People long believed they had become extinct after the Third World War, but here in Berlin they survived.”

In a rush, his daughter—this lovely young woman with her mother’s eyes—comes toward him and takes his right hand in hers. A warm spark of energy flies between them.

“Yes, I know that, Father! What I want to explore is why! Why are they here? Why did the ancient molecules evolve into trees and not something else? Why these trees? Why here? Why?”

She lets go of his hand and he feels as bereft as if he had lost someone dear to him. Her words make no sense, almost as if she is speaking an unknown language, but he gives himself over to the reality of this not-dream-not-meditation. His usual anxiety about things—his drive to find out and know—is quieter here. Somehow he is content to let his daughter be the explorer, even if he does not understand her quest.

He’s a different father than his father had been. Or he will be.

Perhaps the variable star is interphasing with the future and this is a vision of what will be. Twice already the Enterprise has recorded instances of spacial interphase in variable star formations. Could this be a third, with a peek into what will happen years from now?

Or perhaps he is suffering a psychosis brought about by the proximity to the unknown radiation signature of Procis 241. Given the odds, that seems more likely.

“You need to wake up,” he hears Nyota say like a faint echo. He presses his eyes closed and tries to return to his room, his asenoi.

But his daughter is suddenly at his side and they are walking through a copse of trees, fragrant with tiny white flowers.

“Remember how Mother got so mad that time I overwatered her orchid,” she says, and to his astonishment, Spock does remember it. His daughter barely up to his elbow, her black hair pulled back into two sleek ponytails, confessing that she’s been watering the orchid on the sly. Nyota’s dismay that this gift from Spock to celebrate the birth of their fist child was drowned in rusty colored water.

“And remember how Grandfather brought her another one just like it, and how he said flowers can be replaced but children are fragile?”

This, too, Spock recalls—the potted orchid in his father’s hands as he stood in the doorway of their apartment in San Francisco—Nyota’s eyes watering as Sarek spoke. The harmony between mother and daughter restored by his words.

“I remember,” Spock says, feeling such a measure of love for Nyota and his daughter and Sarek that his heartbeat thrums like a timpani in his side.

“Please come back,” Nyota says in his ear, but his daughter takes his hand and again he feels the electricity between them.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” she says, tugging him forward. “If you go, I may not see you again.”

That is true, Spock thinks. If this is a figment of his imagination—a construct of his star-addled brain—she will disappear when he regains consciousness.

But if she is a glimpse of the future, seen through the strands of a stellar interphase—

“I’m going to give him 40 cc’s of methadryl. That should get his attention—“

Dr. McCoy’s voice this time.

Spock lets his daughter’s fingers slip from his. “I must go,” he tells her. He opens his eyes and sees Dr. McCoy squatting beside him on the floor of his and Nyota’s quarters. The asenoi flickers behind him like a misshapen jack-o-lantern.

“That will not be necessary.” Spock motions towards the hypo in the doctor’s hand.

“Well, welcome back, Spock,” the doctor says. “You gave us a scare.”

“How long have I—“

“I found you like this when my shift ended.” Nyota is kneeling behind his left shoulder and he swivels around slowly to make eye contact. A faint sheen of perspiration is across her cheeks and nose. Her eyelashes are wet.

“I’d like to keep you overnight for observation in sickbay,” Dr. McCoy begins, but Spock interrupts.

“Unnecessary. I am unharmed.”

“As I was saying,” McCoy says, pointedly addressing Nyota, “I’d feel better if I could haul him down to sickbay for awhile, but there’s no more room at the inn. We are full with patients much more agreeable and compliant than your partner here. I’m on my way now to report to the captain. As far as I can tell, it’s not a virus—“

“The star,” Spock says. “The odds are that it is emitting some sort of scandian particle radiation, or it might be undergoing a stellar interphase—“

“Dammit, Spock. Spare me the mumbo jumbo. You can tell Jim yourself. And sit back down. He’ll come to you.” To Nyota he says, “Keep him here.” He raises his eyebrows and adds, “If you can.”

McCoy leaves with a noisy flourish.

When the room is quiet again, Spock listens to Nyota’s soft breaths. Still sitting beside him on the floor, she edges closer until her arm brushes his.

“You were somewhere else,” she says at last, breaking the silence. “I couldn’t reach you there.”

“I could hear you,” he says. He feels her bristle, her anger flaring across her skin.

“Then why didn’t you—“

“Our daughter required my attention.”

At once her anger dissipates. He hears her sharp intake of breath. “How is that possible?”

“I would be untruthful if I said I knew. But she was ours, Nyota. Or she will be. It defies logic, but I know this.”

He looks up then into her face and is startled to see her smiling. Of all the emotions he could have anticipated—disbelief, skepticism, worry—he is caught off guard by her amusement.

“You do not believe me.”

“On the contrary,” she says, taking his hands in hers. “I do. You would never, ever, ever tell such a ridiculous story unless it was true.”

Her laughter unlocks something inside him and he falls easily into their private, affectionate patter.

“Even delusional people can sometimes sound convincing,” he parries. “Or my logic could be faulty and I might be mistaken.”

Nyota grins. “It won’t be the last time, will it?” She stands up and holds out her hand to him as an invitation to join her. “Come on,” she says.

“You heard the doctor,” Spock says as he gets to his feet. “I am to stay here until the captain arrives for a debriefing.”

“Exactly. Which knowing Jim Kirk, won’t be for at least twenty minutes. We have plenty of time.”

“What did you have in mind?” Spock follows her as she makes her way to their bedroom.

“Use your logic,” Nyota says, smirking. “I want to hear all about that possible daughter of ours.”

“Khio’ri.”

“What?”

“Khio’ri.” Spock lets the word tumble across his lips. “Khio’ri. Vulcan for star. We will name her after you.”

#star trek #spuhura

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thegloober · 6 years

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The Best Halloween Lights For Your Haunted House

Christmas gets all the hype, but Halloween decorating is way better. You can turn your yard into a full graveyard, haunted house, or zombie graveyard that leads into a haunted house. And while Jack-o’-lanterns and hanging skeletons are great, Halloween lights really bring a creepily curated yard to the next level. We don’t mean simple pumpkin lights. Rather, we mean some of these lights, lanterns, and effects packages, which look great and help you go to the next level. Here are our favorite Halloween lights to use.

Philips Halloween Motion Projector with LED Bulbs

Skip the chore of hanging up string lights in favor of this motion projector from Philips. To install, simply hammer the included stake into the ground and plug in the six foot power cord. Bright, energy efficient LED bulbs project a shimmering red and orange light from up to 20 feet away, creating a festive atmosphere that envelops trick or treaters as they approach your front door.

Buy Now $14

Hyde and Eek! Incandescent Spider Web

Each spider web in this three-pack measures nearly six feet in length and can be hung outdoors easily using the included S hooks. The web itself is lined by orange lights and the spider on each web is illuminated in green. These are more festive than scary, but they’re big and can hang easily off of most railings, gutters and windows.

Buy Now $15

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Hyde and Eek! Halloween Light Bulb Rotating LED Shadow Lights Ghosts

All you need to do to bathe the inside of your house in Halloween spirit is screw this bulb into a fixture, ideally one mounted to your ceiling. The bulb lights up and rotates when turned on, projecting constantly moving silhouettes of ghosts on the walls.

Buy Now $19

Bloody Globe Halloween String Lights

Most Halloween string lights are just orange-colored Christmas lights, but this 11-foot set has a more interesting design. There’s something kind of menacing about a bare bulb painted to look like it’s dripping in blood, which is what all 10 bulbs have. If you’re going for more of a Saw than It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown vibe these are definitely worth hanging up inside or outside your house.

Buy Now $15

Ghost Fabric Halloween Lawn Stakes

The black wire and black stakes that connect these three ghosts will blend into the dark and create the illusion that they’re floating on your front lawn. You can connect up to three of these sets together, filling your yard with nine wandering spirits in one fell swoop.

Buy Now $28

Purple and Orange Fire and Ice Spotlight

If you want to really scare people, you’ll need to create a spooky atmosphere. This plug-in spotlight projects a dizzying melange of purple and orange light onto any interior or exterior wall. Aim it at your front door to give trick or treaters the sense that they might just be stepping through a ten foot-wide portal to the underworld when they come looking for candy.

Buy Now $29

Gemmy Short Circuit Rusty Attic Light Bulb

The rusty, chain-operated lightbulb is a classic horror trope typically used to illuminate some kind of basement torture chamber. In short, it’s scary, and with this plug-in fixture you can bring some of that fear into your own haunted home. The included LED light has the appearance of a much older Edison bulb that flickers ominously, a sure sign that restless spirits are nearby.

Buy Now $15

Morbid Enterprises Floating Slimer Halloween Decoration

When its motion sensor is activated, this Slimer light will play the Ghostbusters theme song and slide back and forth along the cord on which it’s hung. The green goober’s eyes light up and his whole body glows in the dark, too, so he looks especially cool at night.

Buy Now $70

Strobing LightShow LED Halloween Chasing White Ghosts Strobe Spotlight Whirl-a-Motion

Drive this staked (and long-named) spotlight into the ground and adjust the ball and socket joint to aim it precisely. Once you plug it in, you’ll see a bunch of ghosts roaming around your wall in seemingly random patterns, as if they’re searching for an escape from the afterlife.

Buy Now $19

AtmosFX Digital Decorations Zombie Invasion!

This DVD contains four different zombie-themed videos. You can set the mood for a Halloween party by playing them on your TV, but if you have a projector you can do something even cooler. Hang some white fabric on the inside of your window. Then, connect your projector to a DVD player and pop in this disc. Candy-seekers will see zombies swarming inside, punching through walls or attacking a defenseless man. It’s a really cool effect, unlike anything you can do with regular lights.

Buy Now $29

Source: https://bloghyped.com/the-best-halloween-lights-for-your-haunted-house/

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jarenihtbony-stories · 6 years

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Araby

North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.

The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back drawing-room. Air, musty from having been long enclosed, hung in all the rooms, and the waste room behind the kitchen was littered with old useless papers. Among these I found a few paper-covered books, the pages of which were curled and damp: The Abbot, by Walter Scott, The Devout Communicant, and The Memoirs of Vidocq. I liked the last best because its leaves were yellow. The wild garden behind the house contained a central apple-tree and a few straggling bushes, under one of which I found the late tenant's rusty bicycle-pump. He had been a very charitable priest; in his will he had left all his money to institutions and the furniture of his house to his sister.

When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. The career of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the houses, where we ran the gauntlet of the rough tribes from the cottages, to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits, to the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness. When we returned to the street, light from the kitchen windows had filled the areas. If my uncle was seen turning the corner, we hid in the shadow until we had seen him safely housed. Or if Mangan's sister came out on the doorstep to call her brother in to his tea, we watched her from our shadow peer up and down the street. We waited to see whether she would remain or go in and, if she remained, we left our shadow and walked up to Mangan's steps resignedly. She was waiting for us, her figure defined by the light from the half-opened door. Her brother always teased her before he obeyed, and I stood by the railings looking at her. Her dress swung as she moved her body, and the soft rope of her hair tossed from side to side.

Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen. When she came out on the doorstep my heart leaped. I ran to the hall, seized my books and followed her. I kept her brown figure always in my eye and, when we came near the point at which our ways diverged, I quickened my pace and passed her. This happened morning after morning. I had never spoken to her, except for a few casual words, and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance. On Saturday evenings when my aunt went marketing I had to go to carry some of the parcels. We walked through the flaring streets, jostled by drunken men and bargaining women, amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies of shop-boys who stood on guard by the barrels of pigs' cheeks, the nasal chanting of street-singers, who sang a come-all-you about O'Donovan Rossa, or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. These noises converged in a single sensation of life for me: I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes. Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: `O love! O love!' many times.

At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer. She asked me was I going to Araby. I forgot whether I answered yes or no. It would be a splendid bazaar; she said she would love to go.

`And why can't you?' I asked.

While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist. She could not go, she said, because there would be a retreat that week in her convent. Her brother and two other boys were fighting for their caps, and I was alone at the railings. She held one of the spikes, bowing her head towards me. The light from the lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her neck, lit up her hair that rested there and, falling, lit up the hand upon the railing. It fell over one side of her dress and caught the white border of a petticoat, just visible as she stood at ease.

`It's well for you,' she said.

`If I go,' I said, `I will bring you something.'

What innumerable follies laid waste my waking and sleeping thoughts after that evening! I wished to annihilate the tedious intervening days. I chafed against the work of school. At night in my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between me and the page I strove to read. The syllables of the word Araby were called to me through the silence in which my soul luxuriated and cast an Eastern enchantment over me. I asked for leave to go to the bazaar on Saturday night. My aunt was surprised, and hoped it was not some Freemason affair. I answered few questions in class. I watched my master's face pass from amiability to sternness; he hoped I was not beginning to idle. I could not call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child's play, ugly monotonous child's play.

On Saturday morning I reminded my uncle that I wished to go to the bazaar in the evening. He was fussing at the hallstand, looking for the hat-brush, and answered me curtly:

`Yes, boy, I know.'

As he was in the hall I could not go into the front parlour and lie at the window. I left the house in bad humour and walked slowly towards the school. The air was pitilessly raw and already my heart misgave me.

When I came home to dinner my uncle had not yet been home. Still it was early. I sat staring at the clock for some time and, when its ticking began to irritate me, I left the room. I mounted the staircase and gained the upper part of the house. The high, cold, empty, gloomy rooms liberated me and I went from room to room singing. From the front window I saw my companions playing below in the street. Their cries reached me weakened and indistinct and, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, I looked over at the dark house where she lived. I may have stood there for an hour, seeing nothing but the brown-clad figure cast by my imagination, touched discreetly by the lamplight at the curved neck, at the hand upon the railings and at the border below the dress.

When I came downstairs again I found Mrs Mercer sitting at the fire. She was an old, garrulous woman, a pawnbroker's widow, who collected used stamps for some pious purpose. I had to endure the gossip of the tea-table. The meal was prolonged beyond an hour and still my uncle did not come. Mrs Mercer stood up to go: she was sorry she couldn't wait any longer, but it was after eight o'clock and she did not like to be out late, as the night air was bad for her. When she had gone I began to walk up and down the room, clenching my fists. My aunt said:

`I'm afraid you may put off your bazaar for this night of Our Lord.'

At nine o'clock I heard my uncle's latchkey in the hall door. I heard him talking to himself and heard the hallstand rocking when it had received the weight of his overcoat. I could interpret these signs. When he was midway through his dinner I asked him to give me the money to go to the bazaar. He had forgotten.

`The people are in bed and after their first sleep now,' he said.

I did not smile. My aunt said to him energetically:

`Can't you give him the money and let him go? You've kept him late enough as it is.'

My uncle said he was very sorry he had forgotten. He said he believed in the old saying: `All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.' He asked me where I was going and, when I told him a second time, he asked me did I know The Arab's Farewell to His Steed. When I left the kitchen he was about to recite the opening lines of the piece to my aunt.

I held a florin tightly in my hand as I strode down Buckingham Street towards the station. The sight of the streets thronged with buyers and glaring with gas recalled to me the purpose of my journey. I took my seat in a third-class carriage of a deserted train. After an intolerable delay the train moved out of the station slowly. It crept onward among ruinous houses and over the twinkling river. At Westland Row Station a crowd of people pressed to the carriage doors; but the porters moved them back, saying that it was a special train for the bazaar. I remained alone in the bare carriage. In a few minutes the train drew up beside an improvised wooden platform. I passed out on to the road and saw by the lighted dial of a clock that it was ten minutes to ten. In front of me was a large building which displayed the magical name.

I could not find any sixpenny entrance and, fearing that the bazaar would be closed, I passed in quickly through a turnstile, handing a shilling to a weary-looking man. I found myself in a big hall girded at half its height by a gallery. Nearly all the stalls were closed and the greater part of the hall was in darkness. I recognized a silence like that which pervades a church after a service. I walked into the centre of the bazaar timidly. A few people were gathered about the stalls which were still open. Before a curtain, over which the words Caf Chantant were written in coloured lamps, two men were counting money on a salver. I listened to the fall of the coins.

Remembering with difficulty why I had come, I went over to one of the stalls and examined porcelain vases and flowered tea-sets. At the door of the stall a young lady was talking and laughing with two young gentlemen. I remarked their English accents and listened vaguely to their conversation.

`O, I never said such a thing!'

`O, but you did!'

`O, but I didn't!'

`Didn't she say that?'

`Yes. I heard her.'

`O, there's a... fib!'

Observing me, the young lady came over and asked me did I wish to buy anything. The tone of her voice was not encouraging; she seemed to have spoken to me out of a sense of duty. I looked humbly at the great jars that stood like eastern guards at either side of the dark entrance to the stall and murmured:

`No, thank you.'

The young lady changed the position of one of the vases and went back to the two young men. They began to talk of the same subject. Once or twice the young lady glanced at me over her shoulder.

I lingered before her stall, though I knew my stay was useless, to make my interest in her wares seem the more real. Then I turned away slowly and walked down the middle of the bazaar. I allowed the two pennies to fall against the sixpence in my pocket. I heard a voice call from one end of the gallery that the light was out. The upper part of the hall was now completely dark.

Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.

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raisingsupergirl · 7 years

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What's This? What's This? There's Something in the Air!

It's no secret that Halloween is my favorite holiday. As I sit on my front porch writing this, I'm surrounded by a host of mischievous wraiths, their tattered rags whirling and lashing in the wind. The coming storm has unearthed the musty smell of rotting leaves, and summer's lingering warmth has given way to an electric chill that prickles the hairs on the back of my neck. My neighbors, too, have embraced the holiday spirit, decorating their yards with gravestones and their steps with jack-o-lanterns. The entire effect is one that's difficult to describe but impossible to ignore. And even though it's only halfway through October, my family and I are already neck-deep in fall fun.

Pumpkin patches and fall festivals by day, fire pits and football games by night. An entire weekend devoted to making sure my house was the scariest on the block. My Netflix is now suggesting a constant stream of horror movies, and my daughter's is filled with Scooby-Doo. To be honest, she really doesn't like the "scary man" in our foyer (aka my coat rack covered in a cloak and a mask), but not to worry—she still has time to appreciate the finer points of the season. And as the days grow shorter and the air gets cooler, the anticipation of Halloween galvanizes me, and I start seeing things a little, well… differently.

Take this little guy, for example. I found him on my back porch the first weekend of October. Earlier in the day, my daughter, Avery (three years old), had been talking about the "green guy" she'd fought in the yard. She had won the fight and locked Green Guy under the porch. I chuckled and praised her creativity, so imagine my surprise when Avery saw this mantis at the same time I did and exclaimed, "The green guy's back!"

We examined him closely as I explained what he (or she, but Avery had already named him Green Guy, so who was I to question her expertise?) was, and we noticed that one of his wings was clipped short. I asked Avery if she'd done it, but she said no. Anyway, we let him go on his way, and I thought nothing more of it—until later.

That night as my family snoozed in their beds, I noticed our dog acting strangely in our dining room. She kept peaking into my office, but she never went in. She paced a little, crouched down, but refused to enter. With the spirit of the season upon me, I crept into the office to see what ghoul had caught my pup's attention. So imagine my extreme surprise when I saw this:

Green Guy had infiltrated my home and taken up residence in my office! I didn't recognize him at first, but his half-wing gave him away. After a brief photo shoot to prove the occasion, I evicted the trespasser, but Luna (my dog) didn't seem convinced. She kept searching the office, sniffing out every corner as if expecting Green Guy to reappear at any moment. And to tell you the truth, I half-expected it myself. Especially when Luna locked her gaze onto something and the hair stood up on her back. I slowly turned to where she was looking, my muscles tense and ready to flee, and that's when I saw it…

Luna's reflection!

Okay, maybe ya had to be there, but it was pretty amusing at the time. That moment of near-hysterical relief that comes after a scare. The adrenaline that lingers without any real purpose, so your body releases the pressure through laughter. It's the whole purpose of scary movies and haunted houses, and my house was bringing it to me free of charge. And apparently when a house is over 130 years old, it has more than one trick up its sleeve because the Mystery of the Green Guy was just the beginning for me.

I really should have expected it. I mean, the next weekend was the Harvest Moon after all. And when I came home one night and saw that glowing orange orb shining down on me, I knew I couldn't waste the opportunity. So I threw some wood in the fire pit and put a match to it. After burning off nearly every hair on my right arm, I settled into my lawn chair and enjoyed the evening by the light of the full moon, the flickering flames, and the twinkling purple lights coiled around my porch. But as the moon rose higher and the fire burned into smoldering coals, a feeling awoke within me. Part mischief and part wonder (but mostly childish silliness), I nurtured the feeling until it turned into an idea. It was high time I went exploring!

First, I inspected the alleyway between my garage and fence. Though it did offer an undeniable creep factor, I knew it wasn't what I was looking for, so I took my adventure indoors. Half hoping to find Green Guy, I lurked in the shadows of my expertly decorated home, but I still hadn't found what I was looking for. So I turned to the creepiest place in my house. Mock me if you will, but at the time, crawling around in my cellar was the obvious choice.

To say that my house is supported by rusty pipes and cobwebs may be a bit of a stretch, but not by much. Like I said, it was constructed in 1886, and the hand-hewn beams were crafted without the weight of modern plumbing and electricity in mind, not to mention a century worth of erosion and stomping. So you do the math. Add to that the dirt floors mounded here and there with who knows what (or who) buried underneath, and it only took a couple minutes of cobwebs clinging to my hair and face to convince me that my journey was at an end. Especially when I saw a single leaf resting atop one of the dirt mounds. Not a real leaf, mind you—an artificial one. Of the sort that belongs to those bouquets found on gravestones and the like. Obviously placed in that particular spot in my cellar by some previous occupant.

Yep, that was enough for my imagination to crawl into the deepest parts of every scary story I've ever read, and I promptly high-tailed it back upstairs, took a shower (obviously), and crawled under my covers where the ghosts and ghouls could never find me.

Yes, I realize I'm ridiculous. I understand that I'm a grown adult and everything I've just said has left me sounding like a madman. But I blame Halloween. It's the one time of year when I get to act like a kid again. Childish wonder is hard to come by as I grow older. It's a valued commodity that's looked down upon by those who have forgotten its magic.

Generations past have said that the veil between this world and the next is the thinnest this time of year, but I see it differently. The veil doesn't separate worlds, it separates years. Like all holidays, Halloween fills us with the nostalgia of our first experiences—our first costume, our first scare, our first piece of candy corn. As we age, we learn to set our sights on meaningful things. We learn to contribute to the world, to leave things better than how we found them. But the holidays remind us why we contribute. We leave a legacy of joy and wonder that connects us with all generations before and after us.

So enjoy the season while it's upon us. Do silly things that no self-respecting adult could get away with the rest of the year (unless you blame them on your kids like I do). Maybe you don't have to share them with the world like me (I really don't have any shame), but don't be afraid to laugh at yourself. Life's entirely too short. And as for me, I've just realized that next Friday is the 13th, and I've heard whispers of haunted houses. Sounds like another adventure to me!

#halloween #halloween spirit #imagination #childish #man child #harvest moon #fall festival #pumpkin patch

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horror-movie-blog · 7 years

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HMB: Tales of Halloween

Original Publishing Date: October 6th, 2017

When it comes to horror anthology movies, the filmmakers usually shoot for four or five. In this movie, there's ten. I mean it could be worse, there could be 26 and be over two hours long. But overall, while the film isn't scary at all, it is a lot of fun too watch. If the goal was to capture a Halloween vibe, then that's what they did. Most of the shorts are comedies, with only two that try to take it seriously. My only overall critique of the film is that there wasn't really much diversity in the direction. You could have told me that all 10 shorts were directed by the same person and I would have believed you. But let's analysis each short on its own. 1. Sweet Tooth: A kid is told a story by his sister and her boyfriend about a kid named Sweet Tooth, a kid who loved trick or treating, but his parents confiscated his candy. Sweet Tooth later learned that his parents were eating the candy behind his back, erotically by the way. So he killed them and ate their organs. The jest of the sister's story is that if you don't share your candy with Sweet Tooth, he'll kill you and eat your organs. And the rest is what you'd might expect, Sweet Tooth turns out to be real and he kills the sister and boyfriend cause they didn't share their candy with him. Yeah, it's dumb, but they all are. But is it fun? Yeah, in a "urban legend turned real" kind of way. My only complaint is that its sort of weird to have the first short presented in the film be one of the more serious ones (serious as in it buts more effort into the horror elements than the others, either though the others are clearly trying to be comedies). But then again, I don't which of the the 10 shorts would be the best one to start with, so maybe it is for the best to start with the more serious one. 2. The Night Billy Raised Hell: A sister and her boyfriend peer pressured a little boy to egg a man's house. The man came out and was like "you call that a prank? THIS is a prank!". And then what appears to be the man and the boy going around town causing mayhem and destruction. The short ends with a twist that's really cruel, but at the same time delivers on that cheesy story telling this film seems to be going for. But what ruins the short for me is the sound effects. Some asshole thought the performance and the writing wasn't funny enough, so they put obnoxious, cliched cartoon sound effects over all the character's movements. And it's not just this short either, some of the other shorts have stupid SoundBible sound effects too. This is suppose to be a professional movie, use foley you lazy fucks! But Adrianne Curry in a sexy outfit saved it. Damn... 3. Trick: A bunch of trick or treaters invade a home and kill the residents, only for us to discover that it was a rescue mission. Yeah, at this point you start to get the jest of what type of shorts your in for. They are very mindless and usually end with a twist in order to give the short some pay off in terms of story telling. I will say that this is one of the only ones that kind of scares you. But you'll quickly forget about it. 4. The Weak and The Wicked: This one doesn't really have anything to do with Halloween. It's about three bullies who get their comeuppance after one of their victims lures them to where they lite his house on fire. The majority of the short is the bullies chasing the victim, only to build up to a "twist". Again, this one pretty forgettable. 5. Grim Grinning Ghost: GOD DAMN IT! This is like the third time Lin Shaye popped up in one of my reviews. Ah well, in this she tells a ghost story, and guess what, turns out the ghost is real, and haunts one of Lin's friends. Uneventful and kind of dull, but of all the shorts, this one was the closest in actually scaring me. So I'll give it props for that. 6. Ding Dong: I award this the turd in the punchbowl award, and that this is the movie's worst short, mainly because of how confusing it was. It's about a witch-monster woman who wants a child, but her husband can't give her a child, but it turns out he can't on purpose cause he got a vasectomy, and his reasoning is because the woman is abusive towards him, so he thinks she'll be abusive towards the baby. But the entire short is about the witch giving out candy to trick or treaters. But before she did, she'd always buff up her breasts as if to show off her cleavage. So... Was she trying to seduce the children? Was that it? Or was she trying to lure them in to eat them? How does buffing up her breasts lure children into their home? The only thing I liked about this one was that some of the trick or treaters were the kids we saw in the other shorts, including one that wasn't introduced until later in the film. I like it when anthologies put in a little continuity. 7. This Means War: I might be reading too deeply into this, but this short almost feels like it's being allegorical. Two houses rival each other over which one has the best haunted house decoration. One is cheesy in that old fashion kind of way, while the other in bloody and goth. The older gentlemen sees his decorations as art while seeing his rival's as trash. Meanwhile the rival thinks they are on the same page and that the old timer should lighten up. This eventually leads the two into a brawl that results in both their decorations getting destroyed and both of them impaled on a stake. If the allegories were intentional, then I will call this the best one of the film. If not, it's still charming. 8. Friday the 31st: It starts off with a girl in a Dorthy from Wizard of Oz costume fleeing a disfigured man resembling Jason (but not Jason, cause copyright and shit). So not Jason kills her, only for a stop motion alien to beam down from the UFO in front of him, asking for trick or treat candy. Not Jason tries to kill it, but fails, resulting in the alien possessing the body of the dead girl and going after not Jason. So the point of this short was role reversal, with not Jason becoming the victim and the girl becoming the chaser. Clever, but nothing to write home about. 9. The Ransom of Rusty Rex: The child of a millionaire is kidnapped by two goons, only for the goons to discover the child is really a goblin. The lead kidnapper did a great job, his performance reminded me of Dennis from It's Always Sunny for some reason. When I was watching this, I might have counted the number of the shorts wrong, because up until that point I thought there was nine, and this was the last one. What I thought would happen was that the goons would drop off the goblin at the old man's house from the second house, since he had a goblin creature too, revealing that all these shorts occurred on the same night in the same town, thus giving us a satisfying ending. But no, the short just ends with one of the goons getting killed. 10. Bad Seed: So this is the real finale of the film. A Jack O Lantern comes alive and kills people. A cop kills it, only to discover it came from a facility that grew thousands of them. They really should have ended on the goblin one, this one was pretty weak. I guess what they were trying to do is what I suggested, revealing that all these shorts happened on the same night. But the problem was they were pretty clumsy with it. We learn about the shared universe from when the cop goes back to the police station, only for us to see it's filled with lunatics and people covered in blood. Then the chief complains about he's was getting calls of strange occurrences. But the thing is, what he listed as examples never happened in the film, they only thing he referenced was the UFO. My theory is that whoever made this short had no idea what the other directors were doing and was only told early ideas of what was going on, which might have been scrapped except for the UFO. It's a damn shame, if they just pulled off the police station scene, this would have been a fine ending. But with all that said, here's my final thoughts. This movie is like Halloween candy; it's bad for you, it comes in all different flavors and shapes, but boy is it sweet. If you are looking for a dumb collections of fun shorts, this is just for you.

#horror movie blog #tales of halloween

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