#freddy is a cop but let's just make an exception | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msookyspooky · 2 years

Text

Terrible Trilogy

Part 18

wordcount: 7,004

Your back was shoved against the wall with big hands wrapped around the upper arms of your jacket. Blue eyes narrowed down at you as Stu pinned you against the wall.

"Where the HELL were you?!" Stu demanded. "We thought you went back into the house or skipped town or the copycat got you or some shit! Would it kill you to fucking call?!" Stu lifted one hand while still pinning you with the other, making a phone sign and giving an awful imitation of your voice. "Oh, hey guys! I'm totally in one piece but I'm gonna be late. Just take my car back to the motel. Thanks, you're the best Stu!" He dropped the hand sign and stared you down. "...Huh?!"

Billy came up beside you, leaning his arm on the wall. "And who the hell was with you just now?"

You huffed after the shock wore off, returning the glare at both of them. "I'm fine, by the way. Just a few stitches in my hand." You jeered before shoving Stu away. He let go of you as you moved past him and dropped your purse onto the bed.

Stu huffed. "Well, that's great! I'm glad! I was gonna ask that! Okay, I was! Right Billy?...Come on, man. Tell her how worried I was." He wildly gestured to Billy while he ignored Stu and just walked towards you with his arms folded.

"Let me put this into perspective for you here…I come back to find both of you gone after our little disagreement. Called Stu just to find out you went to a party with people that work on Stab. I got a taxi to drop me off a block away because I knew it was a stupid idea and the killer would be there. Then when I got there, my suspicions were right! Shocker!… You're bleeding and hysterical; running off right before the house just blows up. We searched for you and had to get the car back to the motel when we heard sirens…You've been gone all night without a single call and now you just got dropped off by a man we've never seen before. So, I'm asking again…Who was the guy that dropped you off, YN?" Billy demanded.

You sucked in a breath and looked up at the ceiling. Rolling your lips before practically coughing out the answer under your breath. "...Detective Kincaid."

Stu huffed with a wry smirk. " Is he an actor or something playing a cop on Set? Damn, go to one party and already you're letting these Hollywood douchebags sucker you in. "

You raised a brow at him. "Noooo…I mean, he's an actual Detective and he's in charge of this case."

Billy's entire face dropped as he stared at you in disbelief. "...A fucking cop?...AN ACTUAL COP?"

" The Detective looks like THAT?! You gotta be fucking kidding me, man." Billy side eyed Stu as Stu walked towards you. "…You were with the cops this whole time?! What the hell did you tell him?!"

"I told him Billy and Stu are alive and I'm helping them! Obviously!" Your face dropped and your hands fell with a loud smack at your sides. ".…What the hell do you think I told them?! I told Kincaid the bare minimum and left out anything that links me back to you two. In fact, you both still don't exist…Well…Except, Dennis."

Stu gave a nervous chuckle. "Whaddya mean? Why uh…Why are you saying it like that?"

You shrank back a bit. "Um…Since you weren't at the party and you're next to be killed off in one of the scripts-"

"WHAT?...WHAT?!" You cringed at how high his voice rose.

"Look, there's three scripts and in one of them; Stu Macher is next to die in the flashback. Some nightmare gone wrong in Sidney's memory sort of thing…We think the killer is following one of the scripts."

Stu's face paled. "Oh shit…What the fuck?! I'm getting Freddy Kruegered over here in some dream memory crap?! They're doing me like that?!" He jabbed a finger to his own chest, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

"In the script!" You corrected him.

"Well, no shit! So not only is my character going to only have like 20 seconds of screen time but they're gonna kill me?!...And this asshole is after me in real life! Nice. Fucking perfect."

"But um…We don't know which script. So either you or Angelina or even Jennifer or Gale since they didn't die like we thought or Dewey unless Tom counts-"

"Shhiitt! Shit, man!" Stu exclaimed as he ignored you.

Billy glared at you both. "ONCE AGAIN, I was right that it was a major fucking mistake coming here with you two fuck ups!"

"Guys, listen-"

He interrupted you while ranting. "I was gone for a few hours, a few fucking hours, and look what happened! You morons sneak on set, go to a party that was obviously a trap-"

"Billy, would you listen-"

"-YN gets attacked, the house blows up and now there's cops involved!" He turned back to you, up in your space demanding an answer. "Why did he drive you here? Why would you have a cop know where you're staying?!" Billy argued.

You snapped at them both. "I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?!" You rubbed your tired eyes as you enunciated every word in irritation. "Would you both calm down and listen?... Me and Stu went for clues-" You gestured to Stu but he barely looked at you. You huffed and continued. "-We knew there was a chance the killer would be there so Stu stayed hidden down the road but we had no idea the freaking house would explode! When I ran away from you two; I fell down the hill looking for Dewey and Randy and the cops arrived…"

"Yeah, well if you wouldn't have ran away from us you wouldn't have rolled down the hill where cops could find you!"

"BILLY…You both came out of nowhere and a voice that was identical to yours called me saying he was you. You would do the same thing in my shoes!... I was at the party and went missing during the kills. I would have gotten questioned MORE if I didn't go to the precinct!"

Stu looked at the ceiling, shaking his leg with a disbelieving grin. "This can't be happening, man…The cops are gonna question me hard now. I was prepared for a few questions but now?! What am I supposed to say? This is unreal!"

Billy yelled over his shoulder as you gave them both an annoyed stare. "It's real. Believe it, dipshit! You wanted to be famous? You got it!"

"Guys, just chill out!…We have bigger things to worry about than the law right now…A lot bigger."

"What could be bigger than the law?" Billy demanded.

"Uh, the fact we have a killer on the loose! One that knows us…Really, really knows us. In fact, they know our every move. I think that's more concerning right now."

Billy glared back at you. The anger you felt at what he had to say from earlier was still there and you could tell he felt the same.

"...You still think we're the killers?" Billy mumbled. "Are you that stupid?"

"Well, you being hostile and defensive CONSTANTLY isn't exactly screaming 'innocent' to me. Coming out of the woods after being gone an entire day and you don't think I'm not going to be suspicious? Why would you even give a shit enough to come save me?"

"I DON'T give a shit. It's called damage control; something we are beyond fixing now…So, did you tell the cop I called?"

"No! Of course not!"

Billy raised chin, eyes narrowed as he looked at you from the length of his nose. "Really? So that little eye fucking you were both doing just now in the parking lot is nothing, huh?"

Stu joined in. "Yeah, no kidding. You acted pretty damn comfortable for someone that could go to prison too. I swear, he looked at you like you both had a VERY long chat…Maybe vertical, maybe horizontal. " Stu leered at you.

"WHAT?!" You squawked in disbelief. "Oh my God, you both are so…I don't even have a word other than obvious; INSANE! You have some major malfunctions if you think ANYTHING happened between me and Mark within the few hours I've known him!"

"Who?" Stu raised his pierced brow with a scoff.

You rolled your eyes practically into the back of your head. "Detective Mark Kincaid."

Billy shoved away from you and raced to your purse on the bed. You saw him dump it out and run his hands over everything.

"What the hell are you doing?! You can't just go through my shit without asking!"

"Shut up! Since you're getting chummy with cops and letting them take you back to our motel; I'm looking for a bug. Consider it even for going through my bag"

You snatched whatever you could away from him. "There was never a time this purse wasn't with me other than leaving it in the car before the explosion. And I told you, Stu went through it! Not me!"

"Yeah well, call me paranoid. Maybe it wasn't the pigs' idea." He spat with a sarcastic smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "You actually think I'm trying to frame you?! Are you serious??"

"Yep, just making sure you don't try to get cops involved…Again. You have a pattern of that, remember?" He growled out. A hostile glare your way as you bit your inner cheek and returned the glare.

"One time is not a pattern, Loomis. Windsor doesn't count, that was out of my hands. The detectives were assigned to me…Whaddya gonna do? Frisk me next?!"

"Maybe." He mumbled as Stu eyed you up and down.

You defensively put your arms over your chest. "Come near me and I will run out of this motel screaming my head off."

"It's LA. I doubt anyone would pay attention." Billy reasoned, still focused on skimming over the contents of your purse.

"Then you'll get a bullet between your eyes. How about that?"

Stu sighed to himself. "Lord, you'd think that gun was superglued to your hand."

"Being with you two? It might be…" You snatched a crumpled up piece of paper.

You realized it was the copy letter you had shoved back in your purse from the restaurant. Too scared to just throw it away anywhere and too wrapped up in that night's fiasco to figure out where to properly put it…You stared at it long and hard before it hit you.

"...Oh my God..." You mumbled under your breath.

Stu put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling in his own thoughts. Billy grumbled to himself as he searched. All while you were piecing everything together.

"...They're bullshitting us." You looked up at them and said it louder. Smacking the paper against your thigh as it all was making sense. "....It's bullshit…The threats, the photos, the letters…It's all bullshit!"

Billy stopped looking for a moment and Stu looked over at you. "Huh?" Stu muttered as you raced over to him pointing at the letter.

"Why did they make a duplicate of my original letter?"

Stu shrugged. "Because they're unoriginal? We know that already, Sweetcheeks! Where the hell have you been?"

You smacked the paper to your thigh in irritation. "Nnooooo! Think about it; they could have sent me a new letter and they didn't. Randy and Dewey were right there-"

"Yeah, cause Ray's doing it."

"STU. I am begging you right now. PLEASE, put your territorial crap aside. Even if it is Randy…Why not send a new, more incriminating letter to let Dewey know? Or even a picture? You can't tell me the killer didn't have pictures then! In fact, we know they did because that picture was of us when we first arrived. So they had evidence when I went to the restaurant; so why not use it?"

Billy and Stu exchanged glances as you paused a moment before continuing. "...You know what I think? I think this new killer wanted me to think one of you put it in my purse…" Your face lit up as you connected the dots. "That's why it's identical to the original! Word for word!"

Billy stood up slowly and stopped looking as you spoke.

Stu blinked down at you, pointing at you as realization dawned on him as well. "...Why haven't they sent any photos to anybody but us?"

You jumped in place with your voice rising in excitement. "Exactly! And the killer attacked Gale after I rolled down the hill…"

Billy looked at you. "There's no way me or Stu could have gotten down there in time."

You swallowed a moment, thinking before nodding. "...I hate to admit it but you have a point. It's almost impossible that either of you could have got dressed in the costume and gone down that hill from the woods in the time frame the house exploded and we rolled down it."

"Partners. Just saying." Stu mumbled.

Billy glared at him and you for once agreed with Stu. "It is possible. Because things aren't adding up. Whoever this is, is either one of us with a partner or it's someone close. Someone from Woodsboro. Someone that knows everything from that night."

Billy scrunched his face, not looking at you as he was deep in thought. "...They wanted you to think it was me or Stu or both of us." He looked over at both of you with knowing eyes. "That's why he called in my voice. It wasn't just to lure YN out there, it was so she'd think I was behind it."

Stu pointed with an astonished look. "Yooo, that's why he probably ran off and stopped attacking you! He heard me coming and went towards my direction in the treeline to make it look like it was me!"

You still were hesitant about whether or not they were completely innocent. You still agreed. "...I think that's a big possibility…He wants us to turn on each other…" You gestured to the letter in your hands. "He wants us sleep deprived and scared and thinking the worst! He, she, they; whoever the hell is doing this is setting us up against one another! They aren't even going to the cops!

Billy shook his head. "We can't risk that."

"Why not?" You argued, hyped at the idea you might finally be piecing it all together.

He scoffed at you. "Because me and Stu have a lot to lose if we're wrong."

"Billy, think about it! If they were really going to turn us into the cops; they would have done it by now! They want to divide and conquer-"

"And gut the sorry ass left standing after we kill each other." Stu finished for you as you pointed with a nod. "She's got a point, man."

Billy gave you both a glare. "We still can't risk that! It's a theory!"

"Well are you going to just bend over and let this guy fuck you or are you going to do something about it?" Stu jeered. "Because I for one am getting really sick and tired of these mind games… Aren't you?"

"Of course I am but I'm also using my head here."

Billy glared at Stu as you interjected.

"Look…We have no idea who this is but we know that not only are they trying to pin us against each other but that Stu is a target."

Stu's face dropped. "Hey, hey, hey! We don't know that for sure!"

Billy gave him a condescending grin. "Sure we do. You're the pierced up freak. They never live in horror movies."

Stu looked genuinely worried. " What about you? You're a damn weirdo!"

"Loners don't die until half way through after everyone suspects it's them. Sluts, Punks and Dumbass Popular kids are the first to die. It's the rules…You're all of the above now, kid."

You held up a hand while shooting a frown at Billy who just gave you a wry smirk in return. "We don't know for sure! But there's three scripts. Gale was supposed to be killed last night and she wasn't. Neither was Jennifer that plays her. BUT now the target is either still them or it's Angelina, Dewey now that Tom's bit the dust or…"

"Stu." You both said in unison, glancing over at Stu as he swallowed hard.

You looked at them both. "We know the police are going to look for Dennis Rafkin for questioning. And the killer is looking for Stu Macher."

Billy raised his brows. "So…Let's give them what they want. Stu will go about like he's Dennis and we'll keep watch for the killer after Stu."

"I don't have an alibi, Billy! What the hell am I telling the cops?!"

"Just play it cool like we practiced at Woodsboro, alright? Now that someone blew our cover-" He glared at you and you gave him an annoyed look before he looked back at Stu. "It's gonna be risky telling them the motel number…Did you order anything here?"

"Nope. "

"Shit…So basically the cops are supposed to just take your word for it you stayed here this entire time. AND we gotta hope and pray the agent you claim was killed didn't have paperwork or proof of you at that motel…Fuck." Billy hissed out.

They looked at you and you sighed heavily. "...Fine. The room is listed under Dennis Rafkin because Stu here wanted to be a 'gentleman' and get the room for us with just two beds." You mumbled. "So if worst comes to worse; say it."

"Say what?"

"...That this is your room."

Stu huffed as a slow smirk tugged at his lips. "And what will you tell your Harry Callahan when he finds out you went into my room, Sweetcheeks?"

You gnawed at your inner cheek with a glare Stu's way. You looked away with a disgusted grimace. "...Tell them whatever you need to without showboating, Stu."

Stu grinned ear to ear. "Showboating? Me? Nah, you don't gotta worry about that, babe."

Billy shot him a glare as well. "Don't do it. Not unless you're cornered and don't have a choice because I'm not going to prison just so you can have a dick measuring contest with that Detective…Got it?"

Stu lost his grin and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever." He threw up his arms. "So you both want me to be bait??"

"Yep." You both nodded as Stu's mouth dropped.

"Wait, seriously??? Can't Dennis just skip town-"

"And risk this killer keeping his word and notifying cops? Not a chance in Hell." Billy growled out. "You just have to be Dennis, play it cool, act like you're clueless and only admit the room you're staying in if asked. Say you weren't feeling up to a party or whatever. Make something up that's credible. "

You pointed to yourself. "Meanwhile, I'll be with Dewey and Randy looking for clues on the surface."

"And I GUESS I have to be the one lurking in the shadows; watching." Billy finished for you.

"But I'm still bait? For real??"

You smirked at him. "You want a Scooby snack if you do it? Two scooby snacks?"

Stu gave you an unamused stare as you saw Billy smirking in your peripheral.

"That's hilarious. Really." Stu deadpanned.

You shrugged and walked over to the bed. "Look, we don't have a choice now. And don't get to blame me for the party or Detective Kincaid when you were the one that just had to join Stab."

Stu rolled his eyes as you shoved things back in your purse. "Now, I'm going to clean up the mess Loomis made, get some rest and we'll go from there…First let me put this letter with the other one in my suitcase before it falls out again."

————————————————————

You were startled by a knock on the door. Billy and Stu instantly jumped up, knives ready and hunkered down. You blinked at them before getting up from bed and creeping to the door. You looked through the peephole to see a familiar face.

"Who is it?" Stu whispered from across the room.

"It's Dewey."

Billy threw up his hand. "Does everybody suddenly know where we're staying? Why don't we just put our names on the fucking door?! Save everyone the trouble."

You shrugged with a bewildered look of your own before urging them to hide. You waited as Stu ducked behind the bed and Billy went under it. You had some deja vu before opening the door.

'At least a knife isn't in my back this time.' You thought as you opened the door.

"O-Oh, YN. I was worried Randy was wrong about the motel number he saw you come out of." Dewey mumbled with an awkward smile.

You smiled and purposely stepped out a bit to close the door behind you as much as you could without clicking the lock.

"No, no. I'm just surprised to see you!…I kind of passed out and took the longest nap of my life…What time is it?"

Dewey checked his watch. "A quarter till 4. I would call but we weren't completely sure about the motels pjone number and well…You not having a phone now. Want me to get you a burner phone for now?"

You blinked and nodded. "Uh yeah, that'd be great."

You still were reeling at the fact you all slept for roughly 6 hours straight. Considering your lack of sleep, it wasn't too shocking. You looked to see Dewey's Ford Explorer in the parking lot with what looked like Gale in the front seat and who you presumed was Randy in the back.

"Did you…Did you sleep in your clothes from last night?" He asked with a hint of concern.

You looked down at the white camisole with dirt stains on it now and your scoffed up red pleather pants that you thought were extremely uncomfortable but the more you wore them and the more tired you got; you noticed them less and less.

"Uh yeah…I was exhausted. Okay, so um…Are you just checking up on me or?" You gave a nervous smile, terrified he'd want to come inside.

"Actually, Kincaid wanted to check the Set we think the pictures of Maureen Prescott were taken from and we wanted to know if you wanted to tag along."

You thought a moment before nodding. "Yeah but um…Can I just drive and meet you there?"

Dewey nodded. "Uh yeah. Sure. I think that'll be okay."

You gave him a relieved smile. "Thanks I just feel better with my own car. Security thing."

"Should we wait on you?"

"Uh no! No, I gotta get awake and ready…How about we meet at the entrance gate to the set? I should be out of here in like 15 minutes. "

Dewey nodded and you quickly said goodbye before getting back inside. You flinched, coming face to face with both Billy and Stu.

"So…Go time?" Stu asked.

Billy nodded and put his knife away. "Seems like it. I say we ride in the back of the trunk, duck down near the gate and slide out once YN parks."

"Okay. What about Stu?"

Stu gave you a look. "DENNIS is going to lay low, look busy, avoid cops if he can and try to confiscate his files."

Billy raised a brow. "You actually think you can pull that off?"

"Watch me. I'm not even going to get screen time now so if I can swipe my file and make it look like I was never here; I will. I got a card, remember?"

Billy rolled his eyes as you rummaged through your luggage for an outfit. You heard Billy lecturing Stu. "You fucking dingus, there's cameras! There's audition tapes. Photos. That file is just a tiny microscopic piece of information about you."

Stu gave him a glare. "Yeah, yeah you're right! With Dennis Rafkin on it! If I can get that file then the audition tapes are just some guy. They won't have a name."

You took your clothes and went to shower in the bathroom, still able to somewhat make out what they were saying.

"Stu…The cops know your name!"

"NOOOO, they just know Dennis…Right YN?!"

You shouted back as you washed your face under the water. "I GUESS! I JUST HEARD THEM CALL YOU 'THAT DENNIS GUY THAT PLAYS STU MACHER'!"

" See? If I can snag that file; who's to say they'll have anything on me! Then when this is over, I can skip town if I want. And if I want to join again-"

Billy scoffed. "Don't even. You would be a complete idiot to try and join in the limelight again after this."

You dried off and started getting dressed.

You heard them bickering back and forth before stepping out. This time in something you could run in. A simple jean, t shirt combo with your leather jacket from the night before. You saw them both stop to eye you as you tried getting ready. Forcing your boots on and finally putting your gun in its strap around your calf. The finishing touch was Sidney's 'good luck' locket…You didn't know how lucky it was but you were alive this long while wearing it.

"Alright. Let's go." You shook your keys as you crept out the door first, looking across the street and in the parking lot to make sure you weren't being watched.

———————————————————–—

'Okay…Now or never.' You thought at all the bustling people as you slowly drove through the studio buildings alleyways. Your anxiety with crowds still existed, especially the loud noises and people bumping into you. It was so drastically different then your serene cabin in the woods with just you and Cherri. 'The sooner I get home to her and put all of this behind me, the better.'

You pulled in behind Dewey and Kincaid's car. Parking a few meters away to get some space. You rubbed your temple with a shaky sigh and hoped you parked close enough to the building that those two crawling up to the backseat and stepping out wouldn't be noticed. Considering a bunch of aliens walked by…You had a good feeling no one would notice two guys lurking around.

You left your doors unlocked as you stepped out. You watched Kincaid's partner get out of the car telling Mark something…You could have sworn it was something about flowers and candy?…You shook it off as you saw Dewey standing outside his car talking to Randy and Gale.

You forced yourself to go to them. You had to get away from your car so no prying eyes would be on you or the Honda. You forced a smile that wavered when Randy avoided looking at you.

Dewey pointed as he talked to Gale and Randy. "That stairwell over there is where the picture was taken."

You came up to them looking yourself at an ordinary stairwell…Nothing special. But how and why would Maureen Prescott take photos here? You would have thought Sidney would have mentioned it if her Mom was in showbusiness. More importantly, why would the killer care about something from 25 years ago?

"Why does all this seem like such a secret?...It doesn't really make sense." You mumbled. You glanced over at Randy who looked away.

Dewey noticed and nudged him.

Randy sighed heavily and motioned to the trailer. "It's part of the rules- All right, if we're gonna talk. Probably should do it someplace private."

"Good idea." Gale stepped up to the empty trailer beside you guys and opened the door. Randy went in first, then you, then Dewey who seemed to scan the area one last time before shutting the door behind him.

You all got comfortable in your seats. Randy checked his phone and rolled his eyes. "Jesus...No way."

Dewey leaned forward in his seat. "What? The killer?"

"No! Martha. She's called me like 50 times already."

Gale blinked. "Who the hell is Martha?"

" My little sister." He groaned. "I knew it was a mistake telling Mom what happened last night. I freaking knew she'd blab to everyone."

You rolled your lips before speaking up. "You should call her soon, Ray. She's probably worried sick."

He side eyed you but just released a puff of air past his lips and rested his elbows on his knees. "Okay…I think it's safe to say we have a Trilogy on our hands, people."

Gale raised her arched brows at him. "...Really?... That's what we needed the film nerds expertise for? To tell us we have a killer on the loose?"

You shot her a frown before looking back at Randy. Randy pointed at Gale. "Hey, you need my expertise." He looked at all of you. "At least we're all probably breaking the rules now. So it's all equal ground. It's actually a miracle I made it out in one piece the last time I broke a rule…"

You all looked confused before Dewey asked. "What rules have you broken, Randy?"

He looked to the floor and cleared his throat. "...Losing my virginity to Karen Kolchak. Probably not a good idea in hindsight…The other times don't even matter now. I mean, you did it once, you did it a dozen…Or…Two times. At least, with the cinematic horror rules." He rushed out under his breath.

Dewey had the same reaction you did years ago. "Karen Kolchak??"

"Yes, Karen Kolchak." Randy grumbled while not looking at anyone.

Dewey looked at you with a scrunched face as you bit your lip to try to hide a grin. "Creepy Karen??" Dewey whispered.

"Shut up!" Randy snapped at Dewey while Gale tried stifling a giggle in a chair across from you both. "She's a sweet person, okay? We were working late. We were putting some videos away in the porno section…And, you know…Shit happens!"

Your lips rolled to hide the grin as you put your head down. Randy rolled his eyes at you. "Anyways, there's a reason I survived. It's to narrate these events. To be the one to warn everybody of the rules to survive this. To help some poor souls from getting mutilated."

He looked at all of you intently, his hands moving in wild gestures as he spoke. "There are a few rules we all have to remember to survive this. If this is another sequel then the same rules apply." He held up a finger. "But, here's the critical thing; If you find yourself dealing with an unexpected back story and a preponderance of exposition, then the sequel rules do not apply. Because you're not dealing with a sequel, you are dealing with the concluding chapter of a trilogy."

Gale shrugged. "What's the difference?"

He dropped his hands in his lap and gave her a deathly serious stare. "...Huge. HUGE."

You all shared a glance as he continued his rant, getting up to pace. You saw him rub at his upper thigh for a moment and you wondered if it was him needing to pace while he ranted or a way to stretch his scarred muscles as an excuse.

"That's right, it's a rarity in the horror field but it does exist and is a force to be reckoned with. Because true trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get go." His was animated as he spoke all while you watched him. Your mind racing at that inclination.

Dewey added in. "Like Maureen? Like something to do with her murder?"

He grinned at Dewey. "Ahh you're catching on." He turned to you and him on the couch. Walking closer as his hands moved with every word. "Godfather, Jedi, they all revealed something that we thought was true but really wasn't!"

Gale tilted her head. "Okay, so this has something to do with Maureen Prescott's murder. We get that."

"Do you, Gale? Because how do we know it's just Maureen Prescott? How do we know?"

Gale shrugged as you sat still and listened quietly. Randy sucked in a breath and held up a finger. "Here are the rules we have to establish if we're gonna live through this. One; we got a killer who is practically superhuman. Stabbing won't work, shooting him won't work. Basically, in the third one, you've gotta cryogenically freeze his head, decapitate him or blow him up."

Dewey gave you a worried look as you glanced over at him too.

Randy held up two fingers. "Number two, anyone including the main characters can die…" He faltered when you both locked eyes. You felt your brows raise as he hesitated but shook his head and gave you a sad look. "I'm sorry, YN. Even you. This thing could be fucking Resvior Dogs by time it's over. Even the Final Girl can be offed… Nancy Thompson, remember?"

Gale whispered to Dewey. "Nancy Thompson?"

Randy answered for him. "Nightmare on Elmstreet: Dream Warriors. A trilogy. Nancy Thompson was the original final girl from the first. She was up there with Laurie Strode and Sally Hardesty…She died. Fans were shocked, livid, scared! Because if she could die as the final girl; anyone can…That's not counting the deaths of other main characters that were later scrapped by sequels."

Dewey sighed. "But we're in real life. We don't get redos."

Randy tipped his head to him with a nod.

You frowned, hugging your arms a bit and sat back in your seat.

He raised three fingers. "Number three: The past will come back to bite you in the ass. Whatever you think you know about the past? Forget it! The past is not at rest!" He looked at you as you both locked eyes. "Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you."

He looked over at Gale but you still felt a shiver run down your spine. A queasy feeling in your gut at what he said…Why did he look at you while saying that?

Randy paused for a moment before continuing. "...So in closing, let me say…Goodluck and Godspeed because we're gonna need it." He glared at you. "It's why we need to be smart about this. We can't just go after the killer willy nilly because he will destroy us and send our bloody hearts through the mail to our Mothers for added measure."

Dewey tsked. "Randy…Those are movies. YN said she wouldn't do it again…Right?"

You nodded as Randy just sighed deeply and looked at you. "Well I hope so. Because if this is a trilogy and the rules apply…At least one of us isn't going to make it because something or somebody from our past is going to make sure of that."

You bit your inner cheek. You shot up, the words coming from him had you ill. "I-I…I need some air. Talk without me." You shakily muttered as you got out of the trailer.

You practically raced down the trailer stairs and collapsed against the trailer. Your back pressed against it and your eyes closed as you leaned your head back.

Unsurprisingly, the trailer opened to reveal Randy. He eyed you before stepping down and walking towards you. Limping a bit from the hard night before. "Hey, I didn't mean to…To worry you. I mean, we all are at equal risk. You could live and I could die for all we know!"

"Don't say that!" You spat. He stared at you before you ran a hand down your face. "Randy…This is bad. This is worse than all the other times."

"I mean, is it ever happy fun times having a masked killer after you?"

He leaned next to you as you shook your head. His words just made your fear of Billy or Stu playing you and being you and your friends undoing heightened by what he said.

"But what if you're right? What if one of us actually dies?" You paused before smacking your hand against the trailer, blinking furiously. "I'm so fucking sick of this!…Why us?! Why aren't we allowed to have normal lives? When is this shit gonna end?!"

Randy opened his mouth and then closed it before shrugging deeply. "I…I don't know. Life sucks."

"This is more than that, this is; 'we're all cursed or some shit'…Maybe I'm cursed?"

"Why? Cotton was killed before you came here."

"Yeah but it got worse once I arrived…Ray…I don't know if I can do this again."

Randy hesitated before reaching out and gripping your hand in his. You looked over at him, long scratch on his cheek from last night and a busted lip. "Hey, if a cowardly spineless wimp like myself can do this; you can too…I need you to be strong. Because if you're not strong, how the fuck can I be?"

"You'll manage. You are a lot stronger than you think, Ray. I mean, you told off Mrs.Loomis and survived a stabbing that should have killed you. Pretty badass…And you got the guns to prove it."

He scoffed with a smirk and subconsciously looked at his bicep under his oversized button down shirt. "Yeaaahhh, I'd still rather have actual guns or some type of mega ray that obliterates on sight. Hell, I'll take a regular gun too even if it won't kill the killer. Maybe I can take out an eye before the terminator comes for us?" He pretended there was an imaginary gun in his hands as he sagged his features and put on a fake accent. "Hasta la vista, baby. PEEW."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you as you hung your head. He smiled at you with a nudge of his shoulder against yours. "Look, I just don't want you going off by yourself and trying to take down a killer. Please for my sake don't try to die a hero because you aren't saving yourself or others by dying in the woods all alone…You know you probably took 5 years off my life last night, right? I was so fucking frantic I almost went back in the house while Dewey and Gale held me back. Dewey wanted to go too but I think 'Gale'-" He rolled his eyes at the mention of her name. " Keeps him grounded. Thank god I didn't because Tom did and…Well…I don't think there's much left of Tom. But I seriously thought that was you in there till you helped me up. Don't ever do that to me again, not after all the shit we've been through…You can'tkeep fighting these bastards alone. I don't know why you think you have to be alone in life; you don't. " He softly scolded with a frown.

You both stared at each other a moment before he reached out and you eagerly leaned in. Hugging him close with your hands clasped around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. " You wanted so badly to just tell him. While Billy and Stu were gone and you were sure this killer was bluffing about the cops; you wanted so badly to just say it. That even if Billy and Stu aren't the killers; neither are you. That you were being held hostage practically until this killer was taken down and then dealing with the aftermath. But then you remembered what the killer said on the phone…They were from Woodsboro, they knew too much about that night and…It hurt you but you couldn't risk it.

You still told him even if he was the killer because if he wasn't then you still needed to just remind him. "I'm sorry, Ray…Love you, jerk." You whispered against his shoulder.

You felt him sigh against you. "Love you too even though you're a major pain in the ass sometimes."

You smirked and released him.

The trailer opened as Gale and Dewey stepped out and you and Randy stepped away from each other. Gale talked as she walked past everybody. "I've got an idea, I'll hook up with you guys later."

Dewey asked. "You want us to come with you?"

She smiled over her shoulder. "I work better alone. Why don't you try to figure out where those pictures were taken?" Before walking away.

Randy gave you both a shake of his head and you glanced over at Dewey. "I can see nothing's changed."

Dewey scoffed with a shake of his head and a smirk. "No."

You all started walking towards the stairs when Randy smacked his head. "Oh shit! I gotta go get something-"

You threw out your arms. "What?!"

"I have something in my work locker I forgot. I swear I'll be-" He stopped himself and gave a tight smile. "Just stay here."

"Should I go with you?" Dewey asked.

"No, YN needs all the protection she can get. Just stay here." With that, he jogged off.

"Ray! I have another Detective watching me, let Dewey go!"

Randy just waved over his shoulder, probably not even hearing you.

You groaned and ran your good hand begind your head. Dewey shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Should we take a look?"

"Yeah um…I need to use the bathroom really quickly though. I just need a breather."

He nodded. "I'll stand watch."

You nodded back, eyes darting to Kincaid's partner who stood a distance away. You went to the bathroom, looking under stalls to make sure you were alone and behind the door and then went to the sink. Running the water to splash some on your face with your unbandaged hand. You gripped the sink for a moment, mind racing.

Stu keeping numbers of your friends, Billy just showing up out of nowhere, you and Stu ending up at the exact shop Billy worked at in the exact town…Then what they said about Randy and Dewey being involved or even Gale. How this killer wanted to act like Sidney, how they knew too much from that night.

You lifted your good hand to see it shake before grasping it gently to your chest with your stitched up hand. Breathing in and out to calm your anxiety setting in.

....

You jumped when you heard something in one of the bathroom stalls.

#its finally getting to the climax after 2 weeks of edging yall #scream #stu macher #billy loomis #my writing #scream fanfiction #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #fanfic #ghostface #terrible trilogy #scream 3

109 notes · View notes

reservoirreputation · 8 months

Text

Master List of My Fanfics

Reservoir Dogs Fics:

Dimples (Rated M)

After the robbery and the shootout at the warehouse, only three people survived. Pink and Larry are sitting in jail, awaiting trial, and Freddy looks for any way to balance out the scales of his fuckup.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Newly Minted Orphan (Rated E)

Lightly inspired by House on Haunted Hill. With the passing of Joe Cabot, his son and heir Eddie decides to honor his memory with a game. Several strangers gather at one of Cabot’s properties, and compete to see who can stay the longest, winning the house and a cash prize. Of course, Eddie’s here for more than just a game and generosity…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Bad Karma (Rated M)

The jewelry heist goes badly, and everyone ends up in jail, all except Mr. Orange, who’s MIA. A trusted hand is brought in, to see if Orange is a dope dealer on the run, or an undercover cop. Larry’s up for the challenge.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The Snitch and the Rat (Rated E)

Part One: Left behind in the aftermath of Vega’s activities, Larry’s hauled in for questioning, and is given a unique opportunity; save lives by informing on Vic Vega, and have the pleasure of seeing him get thrown in jail. But, the LAPD won’t let him go at it, alone. They send in an undercover agent, one that Larry won’t know about until they’re both in the field.

Part Two: Day of the theft and everything seems to be going great. One unlucky shot, however, and Freddy’s world is turned upside-down. As he thinks back on what led him up to this point, Freddy must summon the strength to go as far as needed, and not lose himself in the process.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Glory Days (Rated E)

Retired crook Larry Dimmick yearns for the good ol’ days, wants to recapture some of the magic from his youth. He decides to scratch the itch by doing a little thieving; swiping the wallet of the cute guy down by the store. Things take a turn, and Larry finds himself flirting with his mark. What could go wrong?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Birds in the Spider's Nest (Rated E)

The crew need a place to hide out after the jewelry heist. Like everything else, Joe’s got that taken care of. A cabin upstate is the place, but the owner, Freddy, has decided to drop by…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Ashtray (Rated M)

One Winter in Milwaukee, Officer Freddy Newandyke is on his way home when he’s told to make one more stop. Things quickly take a turn, and, as a snowstorm blankets the roads, Freddy must rely on an unlikely ally to survive.

#reservoir dogs #fanfic #ao3 #writers #writing #masterlist #freddy/larry #orange/white #creamsicle

7 notes · View notes

pinkiepiebones · 6 months

Text

man the more I think about the fuhnaff movie the angrier I get

I WANTED to like it. I was 26 when the first game came out. I remember seeing the fucking game trailers before it took the LP world by storm. Scott Cawthon revealed himself to be a massive piece of human garbage ofc but I guess I was naievely hoping 1) the money goes to Blumhouse folks and B) someone who is not Scott did the writing.

-The writing was awful. Like. The aunt was murdered by Golden Freddy* and that was never addressed? Her body was just there in Mike's house? And, oh, yay, Afton said "I always come back!" But within the context of the movie that made no fucking sense! I GET putting shit in for fans, but jesus, he wasn't Springtrap, he was still Afton! This was the first time the audience met him

-Whyyyyyyy was there so much goddamned focus on Mike. The first FNAF had an appeal because it was mysterious and tense. The animatronics don't move right away. But no let's focus 70% on this guy who, if I remember right, is actually his brother's killer??? And then he was groomed by Afton to lure more kids to their deaths?????? Maybe?????? Why was a movie called "Five Nights at Feddy's" so completely unfocused on the five nights or Freddy.

-We needed a lot more of the stage show. I wanted outdated animatronic banter like fucking Chuck E Cheese. I wanted more than one way-too-on-the-nose song. Like, jokes about Foxy having his own stage (also wasn't Foxy supposed to be in a room separate from the main party room?) Give us a full-on flashback to how Freddy's used to be, complete with Spring Bonnie walking around and pulling children away from parties.

-The tone was all over the place. So wait, the animatronics are stuffed with dead children's bodies and the souls of those children make them move?? So the children murder people?? Do they think every adult is the person who killed them so they're trying to get revenge?? But also they're under Afton's control so they're not trying to get revenge?? I didn't care about Mike's trouble with his little sister. The aunt subplot was unneeded.

-How could Abby hear/ see(?) the ghosts?? Why only those ghosts?? Who was the Golden Freddy kid?

-Vanessa fucking threw pills into a creek or whatever that was. You don't fucking dispose of meds like that, it can severely impact the local ecosystem. I get she was trying to make a point but jesus.

-What was that scream????????

-Seriously why wasn't the movie like half the actual game, seeing the animatronics start to move and roam and make the choking sobbing and gasping noises, Chica rummaging in the kitchen, cameras going out, etc and half learning the horrible secrets behind it all.

-Was Chica trying to put Abby into Circus Baby? If so why would Circus Baby be there at all

-Painfully PG. The springlocks tearing Afton's insides apart looked like he was having an IBS episode and spilled ketchup on his shirt. I know the core fanbase NOW is children but it's also a HORROR game. I also know they're going to pull the same shit they did for M3GAN, PG-13 in theatres, "unrrated" for the physical release. Still, it really steams my rice. Even the babysitter getting got was a shadow.

-Was Vanessa a real cop or was she cosplaying for her dad's convoluted as fuck plans????

-I still don't get how the whole "if we vandalise the place in the day, Mike will get fired" thing was going to work. No one else comes to Feddy's at night (except "it's my beat" Vanessa)

-Os there a dead kid inhabiting Cupcake??????????

At least the actual, physical puppets/animatronics were cool.

#I will take no rebuttals. Let me vent.

4 notes · View notes

cinemaseeker · 2 years

Text

Let's Review: Lightyear

*THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS*

Guys, let's just be honest for a second.

This is essentially Toy Story 5, or maybe Toy Story 4 1/2, disguised as a kid-friendly version of The Martian.

Let me ask you all a question I always end up asking myself every time an unnecessary prequel or origin story comes out, especially a Disney-sanctioned one:

"Did I really want to know how (blank) became (blank)?"

Nine times out of ten, the answer is usually "No".

I feel like filmmakers and storytellers are forgetting that we don't always need to give every popular character an ultimately flimsy or shoe-horned origin story that inevitably ends up only ret-conning or diluting what we loved about that character to begin with. Part of the fun of universally beloved characters is that they are universal, which requires a form of vagueness and negative space that allows them to be left open to interpretation in order to appeal to as many different types of people from as many different backgrounds as possible.

Take the Joker for example.

The best iterations of that character either forgo an origin story altogether or create one that works with what we already know about the character, and then shows a (somewhat) straightforward trajectory of how he become the killer clown we all know and love today, i.e. The Killing Joke.

These types of characters, surrounded by this enigmatic air of mystery, are usually the most memorable and fascinating to us specifically because we don't know their origin story, and it allows us to fill in the blanks for ourselves and make the character feel like our own. By relinquishing this kind of creative control over to the viewer/reader, filmmakers and storytellers can relieve themselves of a tremendous narrative burden while helping their characters last longer in the collective minds of our popular culture.

So in a sense, a good origin story is not unlike a good plot twist.

Both work best when they answer questions and fill in gaps. And both fail when they leave us feeling more confused and poke more holes in the plot, thus ultimately sinking it.

If you want to read more, there is a great article that relates to this debate, especially when it comes to origin stories that try to make iconic female villains likable (ew) and sympathetic (double ew), and I highly recommend giving it a read:

Now don't get me wrong, this doesn't always mean that I don't enjoy origin stories. An origin story, like any other story, can be good when it is done right (just look at The Godfather Part II) especially when the creators approach the project with care and passion.

But oftentimes these origin stories are used by big corporate studios so that they can squeeze every last drop of profitability out of a character and their franchise, especially if it's a flagship figure from which the entire foundation of the studio was built upon. For example, New Line Cinema is known as the House that Freddy Built due to the success of Freddy Krueger in the original A Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which help launched the then-fledgling studio, not to mention countless sequels and spin-offs. But over time Freddy Krueger became more of a mascot than a threat with each entry, not unlike Buzz Lightyear for Pixar.

The character of Buzz Lightyear is kept largely intact here, thanks in large part to an earnest and believable performance by Captain America himself Chris Evans. And before you say anything: no, Tim Allen does not voice Buzz Lightyear here, and I for one think that's for the best. It'd be too distracting and it helps the movie try to stand on its own, except for when we have to slog through all the obligatory Toy Story callback shots, recycled lines, and every they-did-the-thing moment, and Lord knows there are plenty of those here. But here's the problem: leave them in, it's too faithful to the original to the point that it's basically copying and pasting; but if you leave them out, then it doesn't feel like part of the franchise, so why bother having the name on it at all. Either way, we lose.

But anyway, the change of voice could confuse younger kids so keep that in mind. During the screening I went to, a child insisted that this guy was not the real Buzz Lightyear.

But here's my biggest gripe with the movie.

The opening text of Lightyear declares that this movie we're about to see is the same movie Andy saw back in 1995, his favorite movie that inspired the Buzz Lightyear toy from Toy Story.

On the one hand, this disclaimer is a good way to get away with including kid-friendly sci-fi elements such as robot cats (I would live AND die for Sox), time travel, and alien lifeforms in an otherwise realistic-looking space movie.

But, excuse me for a second, I have to call bullshit here.

Do y'all remember what humans looked like in the Toy Story world back in 1995?

Yeah. Pure nightmare fuel with soulless soul-sucking eyes.

Now, in an incredible feat of gaslighting, this movie expects us to believe that THIS:

came out at the same time as THIS:

Lightyear is clearly a 2022 movie, with 2022 visuals and 2022 values, but it's trying to pass itself off as a 1995 movie and in that sense it fails miserably, aside from a few clever 90s-era callbacks (blowing on the navigation assistant IVAN like its a N64 cartridge and the computer boot-up sound). But this "framing device" (it's really more like a disclaimer) is ultimately a flimsy hall pass used to justify this movie's existence.

If they really wanted this setup to work, then they should've either fully committed to the 1995-ness of it all (stylizing the animation to fit the era like what Turning Red did for the early 00s, thereby matching the aesthetic and zeitgeist more earnestly) or make it a proper 2022 movie that could claim to be based off an astronaut who could've served as the basis for the Buzz Lightyear toy in that universe in the same way that Buzz Lightyear is based on (or at least named after) the real-life Apollo 11 astronaut Buzz Aldrin.

It feels like Pixar is trying to have their cake and eat it too by trying to give us the nostalgia of 1995 but without losing the advantage of being relevant, whatever that means.

But I would like to point out that Disney has already made a vastly superior Buzz Lightyear spin-off that is truer to the essence of the character and their world in the form of both the direct-to-video movie Buzz Lightyear of Star Command: The Adventures Begins (2000) and the criminally underrated Saturday morning cartoon TV show Buzz Lightyear of Star Command (2000-2001). They both match the spirit and tone of the Toy Story universe and serve as a much better spin-off than Lightyear, with funnier jokes and more unforgettable characters. Hopefully Lightyear can help turn people onto this show (please put it on Disney+, you cowards).

Quick side bar: I used to be OBSESSED with this show, like getting-up-at-ungodly-hours-to-watch-this-show-before-the-existence-of-YouTube level obsessed, especially with NOS-4-A2 the energy vampire, voiced by Craig Ferguson. Yes. THAT Craig Ferguson. BLOSC had a whole slew of awesome celebrity voices, including Patrick Warburton as Buzz Lightyear. PLEASE check it out and give it the love it deserves.

P.S. This NOS-4-A2 came out 13 years before the Joe Hill novel NOS4A2 and 19 years before the AMC series adaptation. Just saying. The people need to know.

OK, I need to stop, otherwise I will geek out and never stop.

So with all that said, the question you'll probably be wanting me to answer now is: "Should I see Lightyear?"

My answer, perhaps surprisingly, is "Yes."

Because even though Lightyear may go down in the history books as being lower-tier Pixar, that level is still above most other animation studios at their best. It's quite a feat for a studio that even their less-than-stellar offerings are still oftentimes better than most other animated movies out there (for the most part).

Okay, so what's the good stuff?

The first thing that comes to mind is, naturally, the top-notch animation. It's nice to see Pixar take this approach to character design, steering away from the typical disproportionately big eyes we're used to seeing in Disney movies, trying to make the humans more like real people while still giving them plenty of expression. And in all seriousness, there are some beautiful shots to be found in Lightyear, not just photorealistic but beautifully lit shots of space and sunsets (there's even a cool 2001: A Space Odyssey-style stargate because of course there is). I don't know if an animated movie can even get nominated for Best Cinematography, but I would sure love to see them try. And with computer animation getting more and more realistic every year, I suspect it's only a matter of time before that feat is accomplished.

And, rest assured, there will be plenty of Pixar moments that will make you, if not outright cry, then at the very least get teary-eyed. This is seen most effectively when *MAJOR SPOILER COMING UP* Buzz finds out that every trip he takes to try and get home results in him losing 4 years, during which time his friend and fellow Space Ranger Alisha Hawthorne (Uzo Aduba) continues to age, so every time he sees her she's either getting engaged or getting pregnant or watching her child graduate and essentially living her life without him, up until she dies of old age while he's away, and he doesn't even get to give her a proper goodbye in person. Now THAT's good storytelling. This sequence is expertly handled with tender loving care and really hits you in the feels (okay it's not quite as good as the first 10 minutes of Up, but come on, very few things are).

But most importantly, we get to see this unfold with a canonically queer woman of color in STEM.

In that sense, Lightyear takes one small step forward in term of mainstream queer representation, a step that's still not big enough to get very far but one that is definitely bigger than previous steps taken before it (I'm looking at you, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness). We get to see a major supporting character, Alisha Hawthorne, marry an Asian woman named Kiko, have a family with her, live a long and happy life, and even share an onscreen kiss with her wife that we actually get to see. It's sad that we still have to get excited over crumbs like this, but hey, suck it homophobes, love wins.

You could argue that Alisha becomes a fridged character whose only purpose was to serve a white man's story, a white man who gets to lead an otherwise pretty diverse cast, as if to say "don't worry, white guys, you still get to be the hero." But I would argue that Alisha is given enough of a likable personality and life outside of Buzz, albeit still viewed through Buzz's perspective, to avoid making her a background token black sidekick. If you were to take Alisha out of the story, the movie would be radically different.

The rest of the supporting cast is not exactly ground-breaking but they do get enough character development to help them avoid being totally forgettable, at least for a little while. I especially love the detail of Izzy, Alisha's granddaughter (voiced by my girl, rising star Keke Palmer), being a Space Ranger who's afraid of the vast vacuum of space (girl, I feel you). She also does a great job of underscoring the main theme of learning to embrace mistakes, especially our own mistakes (man, that message really hit me where I live). Finally, as far as villains go, this Zurg gets the job done, but the reveal of who's really behind Zurg is just too good to spoil here. Or, at least, I didn't see it coming.

But I think it's very telling that the best character in the movie is a robotic cat.

I'm just saying.

This is why we can't decide whether or not animated movies are for children or adults. You put a realistic-looking guy into space and give him a life-or-death mission in a story that most younger kids won't be able to follow, but we still need some sort of adorable (preferably animal) sidekick that we can turn into plushies and Happy Meal toys.

But, again, I would live and die for Sox.

The worst thing you can say about Lightyear is that it's a standard animated movie, one that I'm not even sure will properly entertain really young kids, unless they REALLY love Buzz Lightyear, but I think even that would be pushing it. But if you have an older kid or preteen who likes Buzz Lightyear and science, preferably a young girl of color looking for role models in STEM, then this could fit the bill. I bet that this would be a great movie to screen for science camps or middle school science classes.

Lightyear shows how, even if computer animation has come so far, dare I say, lightyears ahead of what came before, good Pixar-quality storytelling can get lost in space if it's not tethered to a strong enough base.

Now all we need is a gritty western spin-off starring Woody and then I'll be happy.

This is Cinema Seeker, signing off.

Thanks for reading!

My Rating: 2.5/5 meat-bread-meat sandwiches

P.S. There is a mid- and post-credits scene, so be sure to stick around for that if you're interested.

And for all you name nerds and prospective parents looking for cool baby names, here's a complete list of the Production Babies, listed in the credits as Future Space Rangers:

Ame, Anaïs, Anthony, Clara, Cora, Dean, Devon, Elan, Emmeline, Evren, Henry, Izumi, Jade, Luca, Mabel, Maggie, Mari, Matias, Mia, Mikayla, Otto, Rami, Sean, Simon, William, Zi-Ran

#lightyear #buzz lightyear #to infinity and beyond #chris evans #uzo aduba #keke palmer #taika waititi #dale soules #disney #pixar #disney pixar #evil emperor zurg #zurg #star command #buzz lightyear of star command #toy story

18 notes · View notes

abunchofraccooons · 2 years

Text

Double Trouble Incorrect Quotes #2

Minor spoilers ig

Greg: You kill people for money?! Vanny: I can explain! Gregory: And all this time we’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

Gregory: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Greg: Go the fuck to sleep Gregory: What gif I don't want to? Greg: Fuck You

Vanessa: You saved me. I owe you my life. Gregory: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

Freddy: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Monty: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

Vanessa: This is such a bad idea. Monty: Then why are you coming along? Vanessa: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Gregory: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth? Vanessa: You’re a hazard to society Monty: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

Chica: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness. Greg: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you. Emily: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

*The group is getting into the car* Vanessa: I’m driving. Greg, out of view: Shotgun! Gregory, turning to face Greg: Aww! But you had it on the way here- Everyone except Greg: WOAH- Greg, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*

Vanessa: Wake me up… Koal: Before you go go! Jin: When September ends… Emily: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-

Greg: *Gently taps table* Gregory: *Taps back* Vanessa: What are they doing? Freddy: Morse code. Greg: *Aggressively taps table* Gregory: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

Emily: Can I be frank with you guys? Greg: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Gregory: Can I still be Gregory? Monty: Shh, let Frank speak.

Vanessa: How did none of you hear what I just said? Greg: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Koal: I got distracted about halfway through. Gregory: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Greg: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'? Freddy: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated- Gregory: Smad.

LMAO I love making these

#incorrect quotes #double trouble incorrect quotes #fnaf incorrect quotes #fnaf gregory #fnaf greg #fnaf au #fnaf vanessa #ocs #fnaf glamrock #fnaf glamrock animatronics #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #glamrock roxanne #mongomery gator #roxanne wolf #blabbermouthing child

13 notes · View notes

prolaterian · 5 months

Text

4 - Getaway | Absurdist Phone Guy Stuffed in a Suit

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49318093

Fritz Smith

The door was open, the light of the room beyond almost calling Fritz towards it. No matter what, he knew he had to escape – that creature would come back, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near it when it did. Slowly, he crept up to the hole in the door, peeking through and hoping nothing would stare back. Luckily, all that met his gaze was what looked like some sort office, and so he pressed onward.

To his left and right were vents. He’d always notice William enter from left, so he figured it was a safe bet, opening the vent and barely managing to squeeze inside. Fritz had never been a fan of tight spaces, and this vent was no exception. Haha, nothing compared to that Freddy suit though. He slowly moved forward – his bulky frame making traversing difficult, but not impossible. And soon, he was out!

What met him was a massive elevator, as well as two metal doors that seemed even harder to break than the one that creature had destroyed. He checked them both – locked. It was no matter; he remembered taking an elevator like this, and it only ever had one destination. Out.

Fritz walked inside and gingerly tapped the glowing button to his left. With a jolt, the doors swung shut, and the elevator began to steadily ascend. He was so close to being free. The wait was agonizing. 20 seconds passed by before he heard a ding and the doors swung open. It was dark outside, but not as dark as it had been inside the facility. He emerged into a small building that looked like yet another office. Through the windows, he could see the stars. Slowly, he stepped forward, metal becoming concrete, then dirt.

He was free. But so what? His body was in shambles, his left eye missing. Several pieces of exposed wiring let out sparks as he walked. And what would he do? Sure, he didn’t particularly like his old job, but it was something to do. Something his body could do. Christ, his animatronic body. It was better than dying, he supposed, but there was nothing left of him. No proof that he was anything other than this stupid machine. Could he even prove it to himself, ever know if his previous life was but a fabrication born of his mind? Fritz didn’t know. He pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t dwell on it. He needed to move forward.

He wished William was here. William could fix him – save him. But William was gone. Where? Fritz didn’t know. But William would surely understand why he left.

His first order of business was to find a way to fix himself. Doing it himself was completely out of the question. Had he tried, he’d probably end up more broken than that thing that attacked him. Someone else had to fix him, someone experienced with animatronics. Fritz spend a moment feeling his face, noting the difference between the jagged metal on his left side and smooth, immaculate plastic on the right. It wasn’t like he could just waltz up to a repairman. They weren’t like a doctor’s office, hah. And besides, he didn’t have insurance. Or money. Yet another hurdle.

He had money in the bank – around a couple hundred; Freddy’s didn’t pay very well – but in his current state, he’d probably find more luck walking up to a repairman than a bank teller. At least one might wait a bit before they called the cops. So, he had nothing. And with the damage he incurred, Fritz couldn’t help but worry he’d drop dead at any moment – he didn’t know what was and wasn’t a critical component. So, he’d have to get a bit creative.

The office with the elevator had a landline. He prayed it worked. Without a phone book, he was stuck with what lay in his memory – which was practically nothing. His best shot was probably Jeremy Fitzgerald, a previous night guard that had some experience working with the animatronics, but most importantly, one Fritz had bothered to stay in contact with... at least for a while.

When Jeremy had his accident, he may of slightly embezzled the details of the aftermath to his colleagues. Jeremy was probably still mad at him at that. It felt silly thinking about it now – he was in the body of a robotic fox, why should this be on his mind? – but he was afraid of facing Jeremy. Not as much as he was afraid of ending up like how he was in that warehouse, though. Fritz picked up the phone, punched Jermeny’s number in, then waited in anticipation.

No one picked up. Ah. It was still night time. Haha, he’d been putting off sleep for so long that he nearly forgot that others need it. Oh well, he could probably wait until tomorrow.

……

Midway through the day, Fritz dialed again. This time, Jeremy picked up. With no time to lose, he began to spin a tale to persuade Jeremy to help him. “Uh, hello? Are you there? One of the animatronics at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria has been acting up, and we have you on file as a potential mech-”

“FRITZ?”

Uh oh.

“Fritz, is that you, you motherfu-”

“Whoa, Jeremy, calm down. If you want to be removed from the list, I can-”

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT, YOU TOLD THEM IT BIT HALF MY HEAD OFF! And then you fucking vanished. The papers picked it up, you know? They printed my portrait as well. ‘Night Guard for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza had Frontal Lobe bitten off by Animatronic’.”

“Look Jeremy, I-”

“And people recognized me, too! Imagine Fritz, if random people approached you and told you how sorry they were that you were mentally handicapped!”

“I’m sorry, maybe I shoul-”

“They’re called TOYS, Fritz! Their teeth are made out of PLASTIC! I WENT TO THE HOSPITAL FOR A CONCUSSION!”

Jeremy took a deep breath. “But that’s besides the point. I don’t know why everyone was stupid enough to believe your bullshit. Or rather, IS. You’ve been filed as missing for 3 months now! What the fuck did you do this time?”

Well, shit. The jig was up. His cover was blown, and Jeremy wouldn’t let this rest, even if he hung up right then and there. He could fix this though. It could still work.

“Sorry about that, Jeremy. It was- I mean, just a little prank, right? Who knew they would believe it? Anyway. Well- and don’t take this the wrong way, but I, uh, found myself in possession of a really nice animatronic, and all it needs are a couple of touch ups…”

“You STOLE one of them? Is THAT why you vanished?”

This wasn’t going as planned.

“I-I didn’t say that. I just want to get it nice and shiny again.”

“So you can sell it for more?”

“No, I-”

“Shit, why not? I guess I owe you a few favors – even though they should be all used up after your little prank. Besides, I’m bored as hell. Fine. I’ll help you out, but it won’t be free, and I won’t be your accomplice. This phone call never happened, got it?”

“Yeah, I-I can do that.”

“Cool. So, where’s your animatronic at?”

“It’s at a place called ‘Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental’.”

“Fritz, what the FUCK? What kinda shit are you pulling here? Whatever. I’ll be there in a couple hours.” Click.

……

As soon as Fritz saw headlights in the distance, he went still. Soon, Jeremy pulled up the the place, donning the gold and brown day guard uniform, underneath a high vis vest. Slowly, Jeremy approached him.

Jeremy looked around, glancing at the vacant parking lot before shouting his name. “FRITZ?”.

Of course, no one replied back. Fritz wouldn’t blow his cover that easily.

“What the hell, Fritz?”

Jeremy looked him dead in the eyes, then began taking in the animatronic in front of him. Jeremy then turned his head, carefully examining his surroundings, eyes lingering on the building with lights on in the distance before moving back to the suspiciously placed animatronic.“This is a fucking sting operation,” he said with a sigh.

Returning back to his truck, Jeremy retrieved a dolly and began moving it towards Fritz. Memories of the warehouse flashed through his head, burning bright as the sun with the all-too-familiar scene. Fritz steadied himself. This wouldn’t be like last time. He could move. He was in control.

Jeremy transferred his metal frame onto the dolly, then slowly moved him into the truck. “Sorry bud, this is gonna be a bumpy ride,” he muttered while using rope to secure the animatronic to the truck bed. Jeremy than put a tarp over Fritz, reigniting his panic as his vision disappeared. But once again, he calmed himself. He could still see. It was just a tarp.

Jeremy set off, the rough truck bed causing Fritz some damage, but that was okay. It was nothing compared to what he had already sustained. Soon enough, the truck went silent. They had arrived.

Next Chapter

#fnaf #fanfic #fanfiction #five nights at freddy's #absurdism #philosophy #ao3 #writing

0 notes

puppy-boy-toby · 1 year

Text

I posted 609 times in 2022

197 posts created (32%)

412 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hoshi-neko-hikari

@blind-puppy-ayla

@dark-hybrid-ninja

@ask-liam-and-co

@sweetdrugs-and-introverted

I tagged 552 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#toby - 485 posts

#ic - 440 posts

#mobile - 102 posts

#hoshi-neko-hikari - 99 posts

#haku - 73 posts

#anon - 50 posts

#m!a: shadow toby - 38 posts

#blind-puppy-ayla - 36 posts

#m!a: tiny toby - 30 posts

#baby toby - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#i knew this was on their site but only recently rediscovered it so i'm posting it here!

My Top Posts in 2022:

*hmm, well that’s strange, there’s just…a random cardboard stage size of a baby crib that is just out here in the middle of nowhere, the stage had a red blanket that acted as the curtain, there’s also just a pile of 38 flash cards sitting in front of the curtain, do you open the curtains and see what’s behind them? Or do you read the flash cards first?*

(For Toby) @plushie-night-playtime

Toby looked at the small stage, sniffing at it. Then, he pulled back the blanket curtains to see what was inside before looking at the cards.

@plushie-night-playtime

17 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

Question: Do Power Rangers count as Magical Boys?

🤔

18 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

The GH's House (Open RP)

It was Halloween night and Toby was out Trick-or-Treating, dressed as Captain America! He went up to the first house of the night and knocked on the door. He didn't know, however, that the house belonged to a GH (Grouchy Hag). The door opened and she glared down at Toby, making him uncomfortable.

"WELL!?" She shouted at him, making him wince.

"E-Eto, Twick or Tweat?" Toby said, nervously held his candy bucket out to her.

"Not Again! Every year, it's the same thing! You little hippies want MY candy!"

"Be-Because it's Hawwo-" he tried to tell her, but she interrupted him.

"WELL I DON'T HAVE ANY!" GH yelled again, even though she was holding a candy cane. Toby looked in the house and saw a large bowl full of sugary treats too.

"Now, GIT BEFORE I CALL THE COPS!" GH threatened him and slammed the door behind her. Toby didn't understand why she was so mean to him, so he started to sniffle and cry.

Tagging: @hoshi-neko-hikari, @weirdgayenby, @dark-hybrid-ninja, @murukuruandfriends, @punkbatbeth, @ravensroleplays, @thegeasswriter and anyone else who wants to join!

23 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

EK at the Pizzaplex (Open)

((If possible, I would love to rp this with any of the Security Breach characters. I'll leave it up to you where he ran away to.))

Toby was invited to attend EK's (Entitled Kids) birthday at Freddy Fazbears Mega Pizzaplex! It was so much more than a pizzeria; it had everything! Laser tag, go-karts, mini-golf, arcade games and animatronics you can actually interact with. All the kids at EK's party was having a blast!....Everyone except Toby.

EK and his friends would pick on him and leave him out of the activities because he was "too little", even though he was only a few years younger. Toby had enough, running away to another part of the PizzaPlex. He huddled into a corner and started to cry, feeling left out and alone.

@hoshi-neko-hikari, @dark-hybrid-ninja, @murukuruandfriends, @weirdgayenby, @ask-the-yanderes, @thegeasswriter, @ask-pregame-kaede-akamatsu, and anybody who wants to participate.

56 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Toby's Origins (Open RP)

Deep in the forest, along a rushing river, a wooden crate was floating along the rapids. At one point, the crate gets caught a riverbank and tips over, spilling the contents. A bundle of blankets wriggled out, revealing a baby boy with the ears and tail of a puppy! The only clue of where he came from was a small tattoo on the back of his neck that said "2-B".

The baby whimpered and let out some small yips. It was much too young to be out here on its own. He needs someone to take care of him or he will likely perish.

Will you adopt this small pup?

@hoshi-neko-hikari, @weirdgayenby, @dark-hybrid-ninja, @murukuruandfriends, @welcome-to-random-characters-2, @sweetdrugs-and-introverted and anybody else who wants to rp

66 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

1 note · View note

ghost-thot69 · 3 years

Text

(I wrote this while very tired so it won’t be the best but the fanfic fingers don’t stop for anyone so I wrote some very cute rz Michael Myers and baby june fanfic after reading some fluffy fanfics of him)

Sunny Days (rz Michael Myers and June Marie Heisenberg-Myers)

TW: none. Nothing but sheer adorableness, proceed with caution ⚠️

The sun beamed down on Michael’s face. His long, unkempt, blond hair shining in the bright light as he waited outside of Westfield Elementary school. He stood as stiff as a board, except for his left foot, which he kept tapping repeatedly as he waited for June to come out of school.

He looked up at the giant clock on the outside of the school building, impatiently counting down the minutes, hell even the seconds till all the children came flooding out. A couple of parents would stare at him in intimidation. They, despite not knowing that he was a local mass murderer, we’re still very much afraid of him. I mean who wouldn’t be when a 6 foot 7 tall man who barely spoke a word to you or anybody else aside from his daughter, who had hair covering a majority of his chiseled face and had piercing blue eyes, was standing right next to you.

Michael wasn’t quite fond of having his face being shown either. He much preferred to have it hidden behind either one of his masks, however he can’t risk that chance of being caught. God knows what Dr Loomis and the cops would do to his kid if they arrested and/or killed him. And there was another reason why he kept his mask off in public. He loved seeing the cute little smile on June’s face when she saw him smile at her.

Michael’s mind began to wander on what he and June would do after school together. Would they go out for ice cream? Maybe play at the park? Whatever he had settled on, it was interrupted by the loud ringing of the school bell telling the kids it was time to go home.

Due to his height, he could easily see the kids coming out and was able to pick out June from the rest of them. However he wasn’t able to see her this time, it was hard to miss her with her long and wavy brown locks that came down to her ankles. Michael squinted his eyes to see if she was somewhere in the back amongst the crowd of little children running to their parents or the school bus, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Michael’s blood began to rush, worried that something might have happened to her that the school didn’t tell him about. He began to press forward towards the building before his ears picked up the little pitter-patter of tiny shoes on the ground.

“Papa!” A soft voice called out to him.

Michael looked up at the stairs, and rushing out the large doors came June, a piece of paper in her tiny hand. When she saw him, her face beamed happily, her taking a giant leap off the stairs and into the air.

Michael snapped out of his worried daze and held his arms out to catch her, the tiny girl landing in his large, muscular arms. June happily threw her arms around him in a hug, and nuzzled her face into his. “Papa! Papa!!” She cheered, covering his face in kisses.

Michael breathed out a sigh of relief before smiling at her, pushing the hair out her face. “Hello pumpkin.” He said softly. “How was school?”

June wiggled out of his arms and landed on the ground, jumping up and down happily. “It was good! Oh here here here!” She said, her handing him the paper she had in her hands.

Michael tried to grab it but she was so hyper that it shook before he really could get a hold of it. He chuckled before managing to grab it from her and looked at it. “What is it sweetheart?” He asked, tilting it to get a better look.

What was on the now slightly crumpled piece of paper was a drawing of what looked like him, Jason, herself and a very…very crudely drawn Freddy with the words “stinky pepperoni man” scribbled on it. Right next to them was their home and a couple of flowers, some grass, and the sun. In the corner was some sort of mysterious red stain.

“I drew this today! It's me, you and bubba Jason! Oh and Freddy’s there too I guess.” She murmured, her messing with her feet. “I’m mad at Stu, he got ketchup on it during lunch…”

Michael smiled. The drawing melted his heart, he looked on the back and saw that she had written “my family” on it. It made him happy that, even though she was adopted, and she knew that she was, that she sees them all as her family. He folded up the paper and put it in the pack pocket of his coveralls. He kneeled down to be at her height before taking her in a big hug, almost lifting her off the ground. “I love it,pumpkin. Thank you.”

June gasped out happily, throwing her arms around his neck to hug him back. Michael let her go and stood up, and grabbed her hand. They began to walk back to their home.

“So what are we going to do today papa?”

Michael hummed, looking up at the sky and then down at her. “Well I was thinking we can take the car and drive to the ice cream place?”

Ice cream? June love, love, LOVES ice cream. She frantically shook her head yes, clapping her hands in agreement. “Yes! Yes we gotta go!”

Michael laughed, swinging her arm as they walked. “Alright, let’s go eat then, you can get all the toppings you want.” He instantly regretted saying that. June is a hyper child and knowing her, she’d pile her ice cream in rainbow and chocolate sprinkles, gummy bears and whatever sweet treats that really shouldn’t be used as ice cream toppings, her little heart desires, but he couldn’t resist her. When she was left at his doorsteps as a baby, she changed his life for the better. He didn’t mind spoiling her, but not too much.

Hours later, Michael was laying down on the old, rundown, paisley yellow couch with June asleep on his chest, her snoring softly. The tv was on, playing whatever show she liked. He really couldn’t understand the concept of this young singer who hides her identity by just putting on a blonde wig and her and her friends' shenanigans and why this appealed to June, but it made her happy and that’s all that mattered to him.

Jason was off to the side, drinking a cup of hot chocolate through his mask, looking at the both of them all cheerfully, his energy radiating off the living room walls that, if you turned off the lights, Jason would be beaming head to toe like a lantern.

Freddy walked in, him groaning and rubbing his eye, him poking Jason in the shoulder. “Jason, stop it.” He grumbled, him walking to the couch that Michael and June were on and reached for the remote.

Michael slapped his hand away and shot a deathly glare up at him. “June’s show is on. Don’t you dare change that channel.”

Freddy hissed, shaking his hand which was now more red than it normally was. “What’s the big fuckin deal? She’s asleep and it’s just stupid ass Hannah Montana!”

Michael’s glare grew more intense, him slowly sitting up while holding a sleeping June closer to his chest so she wouldn’t fall. “I said, don’t. Touch. The God damn. Remote.” He hissed, violence backing up his words.

Freddy held his hands up in defense and scoffed, backing up. “Alright fine geez, I’ll watch tv in the kitchen then, good fuckin’ greif.” He muttered, making his way to the kitchen.

Michael rolled his eyes in annoyance and laid back down slowly so as to not wake up June. Lo and behold, she was miraculously still asleep, rubbing her eyes as she slept.

Michael flashed a warm smile down at her before leaning over and planting a kiss on the top of her head.

Jason looked back over to the two before getting up and reaching into a small closet, digging through it before pulling out a small blue blanket. He waddled over as quietly as possible and laid the blanket over June and gave her a pat on her head, his hand ten times the size of her head.

Michael smiled and then turned his attention back to the tv. Before he had realized it the sun was down, and the Disney channel was playing whatever original movie that was causing a whole scene in her school. Teenagers, BLEGH! Dancing and singing about basketball, romance and whatever, He wasn’t paying attention. To be honest, he’d rather be watching the little mermaid, but the songs were catchy.

Michael let out a loud, very audible yawn before covering his mouth instantly and looked down at June, who again, was somehow still asleep through all the loud noise that went on. Jason was asleep on the couch behind him and using Freddy as some sort of teddy bear. Freddy was probably drunk off his ass to really care, but he was definitely going to feel his bones being crushed in the morning.

Michael huffed out and smiled at them all. He didn’t want to admit it to Freddy or Jason, but he was very glad that he had those two around him. The more he thought about the drawing June made for him of them as a family, the more he admitted that they were indeed a family. Originally, they were just there for hiding, though Freddy could go in and out of the dream realm as much as he pleases, he didn’t really need to hide, but I guess he stayed for whatever reason. Still, he needs to pay his rent. When June arrived, however, they did see themselves slowly becoming closer. They really were becoming a family.

June yawned, rolling over some, which snapped Michael out of his thoughts. He looked down at her and smiled, rubbing her cheek with his finger and moving her hair out of her face. He began to hum as he got up slowly from the couch and snuck past the other two and made his way up the stairs to June’s room. He began to navigate the room in the dark, making his way through stuffed toys and paper and crayons laid across the floor. He managed to find her bed, him pulling back the blanket and placing her in the sheets, laying her head on a pillow. He tucked her in blankets and laid under her arm a purple plush bunny.

June gently stirred about before a smile crept on her face in sleep.

Michael had leaned over and gave her a kiss on her head one last time before backing up and switching on a mushroom shaped night light that illuminated the room in a soft blue glow. “Goodnight Pumpkin. I love you.” He whispered, slowly closing the door behind him.

June rubbed her eyes, curling up in a ball under the blanket and held her bunny closer to her.

“I wuv..you too papa.”

#dead by daylight #horror #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz Michael myers fanfic #halloween 2007 #michael myers fanfic #writing #my writing

33 notes · View notes

funtimefishy · 3 years

Text

Beyond the Gate ~ PT.1

request: none!!

word count: 1192

warnings: no warnings that i can think of

canonical inconsistencies: i’m not too sure if a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza would still be standing 30/40 years later, but thats not really canonical, is it?

A/N: hi again! ive been working on this for a couple of days and i kinda like it tbh. its definitely better than some of my... OTHER posts (ahem.. As Time Ticked On). i think you might like this one if you’re always looking for action/exciting things to do. enjoy!!

extra: gender neutral reader :) this fic was created with a younger reader in mind (12-16), but it works with people of all ages. THIS IS NOT A ROMANTIC FNAF X READER POST!! part 2 coming... whenever

“Are you sure we should do this?” Finn asked, glancing at the exterior of the abandoned building. “I mean, what are we getting out of this? Juvenile detention?”

“Come on, Finn,” You said, eagerly. “Take your nose out of a book sometimes and have some fun.”

“I have fun reading.” Finn proudly said.

“Some real fun.” You corrected yourself, scoffing as you stared up at the rain pouring down. “Let’s hurry up and go inside. It’s not getting any drier out here.” You began walking through the tall grass and plants that spread like an infection as the building grew older. The wet grass beneath you squished and squelched as you walked through.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Finn said. “We’re trespassing. Illegally trespassing.”

“Okay?” You asked. “It’s not illegal if we don’t get caught, and we won’t.”

“And if we do?” Finn affirmed. You stopped walking and spun around, facing Finn, who still hasn’t stepped an inch closer.

“We say we’re on a school field trip and got lost. Simple.” You grinned. “Now, come on.” You continued walking towards the building, and Finn finally decided to follow.

“A school field trip on a Sunday?” Finn snickered. “I can’t wait to explain that to the cops.”

“Okay, Mr. Unhappy.” You said, pausing in your tracks once more. Finn also stopped walking. “If you don’t wanna do this, you can happily turn around and ride your bike back to my house. I’ll meet you there in an hour. Now, are you in or out?”

Finn looked away from you, aiming his eyes towards the ground. He sighed. “I’m in.”

“Good!” You grinned, patting Finn on his shoulder. “Let’s go.” You both continued your slow walk through the overgrown and thick nature.

“What do you expect to find here?” Finn asked. “The place has probably been picked clean by robbers or graffiti artists.”

“You think I’m here to steal?” You replied. “Nah, I plan to just look around and maybe pick at something that catches my eye. This place is, like, historic!”

“How?”

“You don’t know where we are?” You questioned. “Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza? That name doesn’t found familiar to you?”

“Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well, years ago, like, 30 or 40, this place used to be really popular. Your grandma probably came here!” You explained. “Then, out of nowhere, it just, like, shut down randomly, and no one ever knew why.”

“Well, there has to be a reason it shut down, right?” Finn was loaded with questions today, but it took you by no surprise.

“Well,” You started. “I spent about five minutes of research on this place and there are two possibilities. One, the company was hiding information from the public until the commotion died down, or two, what I think happened, it shut down for no reason.”

“Five whole minutes of research!? Wow, you’re really good at this!” Finn sarcastically laughed.

“You flatter me.” You smiled. The rain got heavier (as the forecast predicted), and you noticed a flash of light in the sky, followed by a loud crash. Finn jumped, startled by the thunder. “You don’t wanna be struck by lightning? Then let’s go inside.”

“Or we can just turn back and go back to your house, which is probably a much safer bet,” Finn replied. “I’m no expert, but you’ll probably be far better protected in an actual sturdy home than some rust bucket.”

“I told you, you’re more than welcome to turn back.” You reminded Finn. “And this isn’t a rust bucket.” You and Finn stopped walked as you reached the building’s double doors; the front doors. “This is history. You love history!”

The doors appeared to once be red, but years of decay and withering made them faded and scratched, leaving behind a pale pinkish color. You reached out your hand and gripped the metal doorknob, twisting it and pulling outward. Instead of the door swinging open, the door jolted and buckled as you yanked on the doorknob.

“This is a sign we should leave,” Finn muttered under his breath.

“Shut up and help me.” You replied. You continued pulling the doorknob as Finn walked up next to you. “You grab one, I’ll grab the other, okay?”

Finn twisted the doorknob of the other door and began pulling too, yet neither of you could get the doors open.

“We’ll find a way in through the back.” You uttered. “I’m sure there’s a backdoor or something.”

“Is this really worth it?” Finn complained once more. “Seriously, I mean, there’s probably nothing to look at in here.”

“Probably,” You said, turning to the right of the front doors and walking along the side of the building. Finn hesitated for a bit, then growled as he followed you through the heavy rain. “But that’s why we have to see.”

“We have to or we want to? By ‘we’, I only mean ‘you’.” You both turned the corner of the building and continued walking.

“I want to.” You nearly tripped on a stick on the ground, catching yourself before you fell face-flat on the grass. You pretended it didn’t happen. “Come on, Finn. How often do we get to hang out, just me and you?” Lightning flashed in the sky again, followed by another boom. Finn shivered.

“Last time we hung out, it ended in two broken tables, a shattered window, and an awkward trip to the emergency room,” Finn assured you. “I still have that scar-”

You stopped walking abruptly and Finn did the same, stopping in the middle of his sentence. “Look! An entrance!”

“Where?” Finn asked, staring at the outer wall of the building, the same wall you were looking at.

“Right here, Finn!” You walked up to the wall and lifted a bunch of vines that hid a small hole from view. Alas, you were right. There was an entrance to the inside of Freddy’s. You were surprised you noticed it. It was at the bottom of the wall, allowing tall grass and all different kinds of nature to unintentionally hide it, but also making entry much easier.

“That isn’t the most ideal entrance, don’t you think?” Finn mentioned. “Can’t we look for a backdoor, you know, a real entrance?”

“You can look for one if you want to, but I’m going in through here.” You said, determined to find something; anything inside the old pizzeria. There was something here. You knew it. There had to be.

You dropped to all fours, looking through the hole in the wall. It was dark inside except for the streaks of light that came in through holes in the roof, allowing other things like rain and vines to seep in. You didn’t mind the mud and grass stains getting in your jeans as you began crawling through the small hole, just big enough for a human to crawl through. How convenient.

“Y/N,” Finn nervously babbled. “This isn’t allowed. We’re on private property.” Once you were through the hole, you rose to your feet and glanced at your surroundings. You nearly screamed but quickly stopped yourself. You should have screamed.

“Finn,” You gasped. “You have to come see this.”

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf writing #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #freddy fazbear's pizza #fnaf 1 #fnaf 2 #fnaf 3 #fnaf 4 #freddy fazbear #bonnie #chica #foxy #part 1 #five nights at freddys

72 notes · View notes

vestigiallegs · 3 years

Note

And more specifics: 37 Sam, 22 Ike, 36 Ancha, 41 Mira, 14 Stranger, 1 Terry, 44 Chris

THIS IS A BIG ONE!!

37: Do people have justified grudges against your character?

Oh, certainly. Another way in which Sam is a Shrek recolor is that she is not merely unfairly maligned for circumstances out of her control, she also creates problems for herself and makes situations worse than they need to be.

There are a few ways in which she contributes to this problem, in general:

1. If someone thinks she is scary and it annoys her enough she will lean into it, “for fun.”

2. She interprets a lot of conflict as fun and games because she is kind of a dick and she does just... enjoy fighting. Since she shrugs off this fighting as fun and games, she often misjudges how much her opponent might forgive because she’s using her own skewed metric as reference.

But those are general statements. You’re probably looking for specifics, and I’m afraid I must let you know I do not really have them at this time. Despite Sam having a variety pack of enemies, I’ve developed Sam’s relationships with the people SHE has grudges against (ie Lance, Page) more than I’ve developed the specifics for anyone who has a running grudge against HER. It’s more of a nebulous crowd of people whose toes she has trampled, some from her shitty younger days, some fresh new enemies...

(I do have one specific Person With A Justified Grudge On Sam that I keep contemplating but I’m not sure if he/she/they/??? will ever make it out of the development phase and become a real character/story element.)

22: What is the worst thing your character has ever done?

My idea was that I was going to answer this disincluding things Isaac has done to himself because that’s a rock bottom that he keeps digging deeper, but even when he does bad stuff to other people it tends to be in tandem with bad things he is doing to himself...

Isaac has plenty capacity for being a dick, and spent a good portion of his life not considering other peoples’ feelings very hard. But, at the same time, he's naturally reserved and at the time where he was the most empathy deficit he also was in the habit of minding his own business. So he was more of a jerk in passing to people than out there doing real heinous shit...

I don’t want to say “cheating with Mira and everything that happened for years after is the worst thing he has ever done” because that feels like a cop out even if it’s probably technically true...

Lying to everyone with his “ah yeah, that’s me, Able-Bodied Man” LARP is bad but in the end he’s doing more damage to himself than anyone else with that one... not that the emotional damages it does to the people who care about him don’t matter because they do...

I guess he doesn’t have a whole lot of Big Worst Moments, just a long resume of being kind of a shithead, letting himself get worse by putting himself in the company of other shithead(s) and taking their shithead advice, and then course-correcting his behavior in a way that makes him also kind of a shithead in a different way.

36: Does anyone want to harm your character?

Oh, probably. Ancha is good at making enemies for a gentle pacifist.

In her youth, participating in politics games routinely earned her all manner of dangerous enemies. Of course, she’s long since outlived anyone who wanted to assassinate her, considering that she’s outlived politics and Atlantean society in general.

Considering there are other (undeveloped at this time) immortals out there, she probably still has SOME enemies...

At the very least, Lucas would probably take a shot at her if he thought he could get away with it!

41: Would your character want to have any children?

“No” with exceptions. Mira is not a nurturing person, nor does she particularly like children, and doesn’t put any value on ideas of “continuing the bloodline” or “making the next generation better” or anything like that. She doesn’t dream of having a family. She’s very much a career woman to the exclusion of other things in life. It’s an easy cut and dried “she shouldn’t raise children which is okay because she doesn’t want them anyway” situation until it isn’t.

You see, all logical reasoning points to “Mira doesn’t want and therefore wouldn’t have children,” but she’s also not immune to the allure of dramatic projections of the future. I could see her keeping an accidental pregnancy, or procreating on purpose if her partner framed it in a romantic, ego-buffing way.

The reality would remain unappealing to her though. Best case scenario she is one of those overbearing achievement hyper-focused parents who is extremely invested in and proud of their child’s talents and accomplishments but emotionally not there.

14: What is the cutest thing your character has ever done?

You come to my own home and ask me to write a hit piece on my own character. How dare you.

I suppose Stranger’s #1 “cute” behavior is how they behave when they fail to find an excuse to hate someone or be rude to them. Stranger doesn’t need a big reason to dislike someone, and will often pick out little things to justify being a prickly son of a bitch. But there is a method to their misanthropy, a sort of equation/assessment they run in their head in order to determine that they are Right to be a bitter and rude in a given situation. Despite the fact that this assessment is extremely rigged, occasionally they run into someone they just cannot justify being an asshole to (example: Nikki).

When this happens, they have no choice but to try feign being normal despite the agony trying not to be a freak to people brings them. They make small talk like it’s actively killing them, hissed and grunted through gritted teeth.

It’s like aw. They’re trying. Not doing a good job, but trying.

1: What is your character's biggest fear?

Terry doesn’t have a lot of big, conscious fears. If you asked him his biggest fear he’d probably say something like, Santa Claus, or a specific Five Nights At Freddy’s jumpscare, shit in that ballpark. He’s not terribly in touch with the concept of fear, same as he’s not super in touch with the concept of mortality.

He does worry about some things that are actually real, but not very deeply and not very often. None of those worries are centered on himself either, he’s confident that he can bounce back from anything and more or less sees himself as endlessly smart, talented, evasive of consequence, and unkillable. Instead he worries about things he knows to be more fragile than himself, like Nugget with her fragile avian bones and respiratory system, or Ike with his fragile human feelings.

44: What is your character proud of?

Chris is not proud of much, and she undermines her few real accomplishments as incomplete or not counting. During her youth as an ELF WIZARD competing in the championship challenges, she was quite accomplished. She withdrew from the tournament, though, and never made it to her televised match. She’s got one of those “if you aren’t first you’re last” sort of attitudes, so as far as she’s concerned, it’s failure all the way down.

THAT SAID she can do a sweet kickflip. She’s proud of that. She has a SWEET GAMER COLLECTION of VIDEOGAME, and she’s proud of that. And she makes for a great, reliable mafia goon! She’s really proud of that one.

#answered ask #sam #ike #ancha #mira #stranger #terry #chris

4 notes · View notes

beyondstupidityblog · 3 years

Text

On March 13th 2021, two friends and I did what never could have imagined possible, I watched Freddy Got Fingered for the ninth time, and it will by no means be the last. I’m explaining this to you, dear reader, so you and I have an important understanding between us. You will be reading the ramblings of one whose brain has curdled like milk left out in the hot afternoon sun. Now that introductions are out of the way, let us begin.

Freddy Got Fingered is a 2001 Comedy starring and directed by Tom Green as the Non-Titular Gordon Brody; an aspiring animator who goes to California to realize his dream, only to be constantly crushed under the weight of his father’s expectations. Sounds tame at first, but what lies beneath the veneer of mediocrity is truly impressive. Completely bombed, audiences hated it, and critics loathed it. Roger Ebert got angry, saying “it isn’t even below the bottom of the barrel” and “Green should be flipping burgers somewhere.”. “Tasteless”, “appalling”, “offensive”, “gross”, and “poo poo,” are just some of the things people have had to say about this film. Animal genitalia can be seen on screen for much longer than anyone could have expected, Tom Green swinging a baby akin to a morning-star with its umbilical cord, said umbilical cord being stolen and taped onto his stomach, gratuitous caning of a nymphomaniac paraplegic, and the dissection of a deer carcass. It is an abrasive experience that leaves a terrible taste in the mouths of those who mention it. Nonetheless, I love this movie.

You ever see a contemporary art exhibit that has a piece that just looks like garbage somebody left out but in actuality is a tongue-and-cheek allusion to the pitiful state of modern art? That garbage is Freddy Got Fingered, and that exhibit is Hollywood. At face value it just seems like a poorly done film by a comedian trying to use his name to get a few butts in the seats before his irrelevancy arrives, but when scrutinized as a commentary of comedy films do the pieces start to fall into place. Tropes like the Protagonist being an unremarkable honkey, gross-out designed to get some cheap quick chuckles, side-characters who occupy the space solely for comedic relief, a shoe-horned romantic side-plot, and an equally as shoehorned in happy ending are all present in a mocking fashion. So many of these Hollywood schlockfests that this movie is paying homage to abuse tropes in some vain attempt to trick the audience into thinking they’re having a good time, when in reality it just reminds viewers of films that they’ve already watched before and could be enjoying instead. All of the awkward and uncomfortable scenes of gross-out and romance are purposeful, because nothing is quite as awkward and uncomfortable than a film disengaging the audience with its own mediocrity. “This is what it’s like to endure this trash!” Drunkenly screams Freddy Got Fingered atop the tallest piece of furniture in the room, while also exposing its genitals to keep you from getting too comfortable around it. Unlike the films it is parodying, its obsession with making a fool out of audiences rips them away from the comfort of the cinema, making them genuinely ask if it is worth wasting their time watching a film called Freddy Got Fingered. Even the title is an intentional slight, as it seems to be completely untethered to the actual plotline and is instead a reference to a seemingly inconsequential scene. But then again, that is the point of it all. Tom Green is an artist, and on his canvas is a portrait of Hollywood with all of the ugly little imperfections that cause a movie like this to be created. But this is just the meta-narrative of Freddy Got Fingered, something that you could find all over the internet. Why do I resonate with it so much, and what about it makes it so exceptional that led to this unhealthy fascination?

Every instance that I’ve rewatched Freddy Got Fingered has always brought about a new side to it, and in the process leaves me craving for more. Gord is an interesting take on the average leading man. He is on the surface bland and inoffensive, made so in order to allow the majority of the audience to immediately identify with him, said group being 20-something skater guys with unrealistic expectations of themselves. Made especially ironic when after the introduction of Gord as an adept skateboarding rebel escaping from authority, he starts to show that in reality he is an unlikeable, bratty, entitled, and all around unpleasant person. Barely a scene passes before we see him masturbate a horse while exclaiming he is a farmer to his father who is not present, seemingly a crude gag but is in reality an insight into his low self worth caused by his imposter syndrome stemming from distant paternal relationship. I would like to remind you, dear reader, that I am still writing of Freddy Got Fingered, in case you were beginning to think I have lost my mind (The answer is yes by the way). All throughout the film Gordon Brody puts on masks for different situations, never allowing himself to be who he is. When infiltrating the Animation studio where he wishes to pitch his cartoons, he pretends to be a mailman to get past reception and then impersonates a police officer when the former stops being effective. Donning the visage of a British Bobby, he dashes into the restaurant where the man he is searching for, Mr. Wallace, is eating. Showing him his cartoons, Wallace is impressed with the potential they have, but says that they are incoherent and lack real substance. Upon rejection, Gord puts a pistol in his mouth before Wallace stops him and advises what he should do to improve. Gord was genuinely ready to blow his brains out the back of his skull if he wasn’t able to get his show greenlit, and it hit me in that moment that he isn’t just some random jackass, but a victim of detrimentally low self-esteem.

The origins of his complex are made apparent when he goes back home to Oregon and are reintroduced to his Family. We see that his father Jim, played by Rip Torn, is disappointed in his return and begins to sneer at him for his failure. This father and son dynamic always has tension in every scene from this point onwards. Gord, who just wants to be accepted for who he is and not judged by what the world expects him to be, is always at the receiving end of Jim’s wrath, who values his idea of a successful life over the happiness of his sons. From here it becomes little wonder why Gord is the way he is, all his life he was told that who he was is not good enough, he has to be what his father wants if he is to be considered worthy of not only love, but being treated with a modicum of dignity. Whenever Gord acts eccentric or divulges his interests to his father, they are met with either resentment supplemented by verbal assault, or physical violence. After a late-night skateboard outing to escape from his father’s wrath goes awry, he visits his convalescing friend in the hospital, whereupon he meets one of the more interesting characters in relation to Gord, the love interest Betty.

A horny wheelchair bound temptress may not seem like it upon first glance, but Betty is actually the most interesting character out of the entire cast. She feels genuine, introduced as a bored receptionist flipping a coffee creamer idly. Gord immediately strikes up a conversation, whereupon he and the audience find out she has an interest in physics, and apparently an interest in him as well. Betty is strangely well written for what most considered at the time to be a crass sexual joke, so much so that she would actually be a better protagonist than him. She is everything Gord is not, she’s smart, funny, ambitious, and kind to a fault. Even her side plot to create a rocket powered wheelchair makes for a much more unique plot than the one given. Even Gord reciprocates this sentiment in their meeting, lying that he is a stockbroker in an attempt to impress her. In fact, sectioning her off as just the dull protagonist's love interest is a jab at how women in these movies are only there to serve in the development for the male protagonist, just nothing more than their muse. Nonetheless, without this relationship the movie would lose a lot of its soul. Romantic chemistry in comedy films is always hit or miss, but Gord and Betty do seem to have it surprisingly. They’re both silly and impulsive, creatively driven to a fault, but just different enough to eek out the best and worst in them. Gord thinks that what he wants to do with his life is wasteful, but Betty doesn’t. Now I don’t mean that she directly affirms that he is worthwhile like most poorly written love interests would, stroking their lover’s(and by extension the director’s) ego, rather she confronts him with her optimism. He asks if she would feel stupid and like a loser if her experiment failed. Taken aback at first, she questions why she would, relaying that her failures are just as important as her successes. Gord’s self-worth is directly tied to his ability to succeed, whereas Betty doesn’t need this affirmation. Their dialogue further cements how detrimental his father’s overbearingness was to his outlook, and how he is slowly beginning to realize how destructive that mindset is.

At their dinner date, Jim sees Gord and Betty across the restaurant, then reveals that Gord was lying to both him and her about his office job while poking fun at her disability, leading to a father-son scuffle that throws the entire floor into utter chaos. Cops show up, Gord and Jim are detained, and Betty bails Gord out. Most mediocre comedies at this point would have the love interest be upset that her significant other lied to her, leading to him having to make things right to repair their relationship before the happy ending. Breaking the mold, Betty does not get angry with Gord even a smidgen, choosing to be understanding of his situation now that she caught a glimpse into his home-life. She just plain likes Gord, willing to put up with him more than she really should, but still chooses to look past his lies and self-destructive nature for who he truly is, someone who just wants to be accepted by the world around him. Someone just like her.

Right after that enaction of social terrorism performed by the Brody father and son duo, they decide it would be best to go to family therapy and assail the audience with what I fondly refer to it as, “The Scene.” “The Scene” is Freddy Got Fingered’s statement to the world, it is what instills a man with the impetus to rewatch a glorified stoner daydream for the ninth time and leave him wanting more! Gord accuses his father, in a final act of defiance, of molesting his younger brother Freddy. During the ensuing confusion Gord picks up a bust of Sigmund Freud and throws it into the glass window pane, allowing him to escape into the evening sun. The authorities take Freddy away and send him to The Home for Molested Children, and the family slowly unravels from then on. Besides the heavy handed metaphor of Freud’s theories being used as a way for Gord to escape his predicament while simultaneously discrediting them, “The Scene” also recontextualizes Freddy, innocuous of a character as he is, as Gord’s foil. He is in the movie very little but when he is it is to serve one of two purposes: To be compared to Gord, or to be treated as an object. During breakfast much earlier in the film after a fight between Gord and Jim, Freddy tries to explain to his brother that he should grow up. Gord, surprisingly, talks down to him and halts the conversation.

Gord: “He's driving me insane.”

Freddy: “No. No, you're driving him insane. You're older than me and you still live at home. I have a job, you know. I pay my own way.”

Gord: “You work in a bank. Should I be dazzled?”

Freddy: “Well, at least I don't live at home!”

Gord: “No, you live in a tiny shithole and you come here to eat for free.”

With these lines it is plain to see that despite Freddy’s idea of success directly lining up with his father’s, he is even more pitiful than Gord. What little we know of him is to show that his acquiescence to his father’s expectations has left him bereft of not only genuine personal success, but of dignity itself. When child protective services come to take him away, he is half naked, mouth agape, watching open heart surgery on television, a palpable indication of emptiness. He isn’t treated as an adult either, as his protests to the police fall on deaf ears as both them and the psychologist infantilize him. Why would Tom Green name this movie after a character like Freddy, whose lack of presence and characterization make him little more than an afterthought when looking back on the story? Or did I just answer my own question? Freddy is not a character because he is not allowed to be one, he is just too passive and accepting of his circumstances for him to stand out. All he can be is a doll that Jim uses to dress up as the perfect son, and this passiveness leads to Gord, the “failure,” to both pity and resent what he let himself become. That’s why Gord accuses their father of molesting him, after all he does narratively violate Freddy’s autonomy by consistently making decisions for him. Evidently enough, as soon as Gord dons a suit for a quick bit Jim is elated because he believes that his son finally gave in to his demands for him to get a job, because he is acting more like his obedient brother. In this sense Freddy is the most tragic member of the Brody clan, a literal manchild whose growth was stunted by overbearing guardians. When I think of him, a bonsai tree comes to mind. Sure, it looks healthy, but when you realize that it could have grown into a much bigger plant if it were not for its small pot, that realization of wasted potential comes with a tinge of melancholy.

I want to end this essay with a moral that I took away from Freddy Got Fingered, as strange enough as that sounds, and what it has to say about art as a whole. Put simply, this is a story about revenge. Despite and because of his Father’s harsh ways, Gord managed to take from the trauma he sustained throughout his life and sublimated it into his animation. Creation not only lets him heal, but also acts as retaliation against Jim once he becomes successful. So long as you have the drive to prove everyone’s doubts and admonishments wrong by persevering out of wicked spite, you will have the last laugh. Freddy Got Fingered is a story about revenge through artistic expression, and I think that is quite beautiful.

#freddy got fingered #tom green #movies #essay paper #comedy

10 notes · View notes

immodestmussorgskyy · 3 years

Text

you have (1) new message

“I don’t believe in you!”

“I believe in you…”

You can’t help but snort, bursting into a fresh round of giggles. The dialogue in Nightmare on Elm Street is absolutely diabolical-- you struggle to figure out how anybody could consider this a horror movie. But hey… meteoric fame is hard to come by. It’s a cult classic for a reason.

You’d usually be marathoning classic slasher flicks with your roommate, Chloe, but she’s on a month-long Hawaii dream vacation with her new boyfriend. What happened to bros before hoes? But hey, his wealth is apparently abundant enough to fund weeks of paradise beachside living, so good for her for getting that bread. And anyway, you’re content to sit alone in your little mousehole apartment and melt into the couch after work with a family-size bag of salt & vinegar chips under your arm.

You watch the flickering screen with mild interest as you chomp down another handful of chips. Freddy Krueger is definitely failing to get you on the edge of your seat. Wiping your hand on your sweatpants, you pick up the remote and turn the movie off.

“Nightmare, my ass.” you mutter under your breath.

As much as you’d like to, eating nothing but salt and vinegar chips for dinner seems like a great way to end up with an upset stomach and a lot of regret later tonight. The pantry is well stocked with Chloe’s foods of choice-- organic steel-cut rolled oats, a billion different kinds of nuts and seeds all in cute little labeled mason jars, gluten free bread, a mockery of cheese puffs (chickpea puffs? Come on!). Your side is a library of boxed or canned foods in stark contrast: a couple opened boxes of Pop-Tarts, a few boxes of Kraft mac & cheese, a family sized box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and, the only thing not in a box: another bag of salt & vinegar chips.

The fridge tells a similar story. Chloe’s avocados, farmer’s market tomatoes, and thick stalks of celery gleam in the vegetable drawer. She’s consumed half the shelf space with just kombucha and a few swanky craft beers. And bottles of oat milk, or soy milk, or some kind of thing pretending to be milk. You actually don’t have much in the fridge besides leftover Indian food from your favorite place downtown and a gallon of milk for your cereal, so you don’t mind her hogging more space.

Muffy, Chloe’s ragdoll cat, stalks into the kitchen with you and gives you a tiny yowl. You lean down and give her an affectionate scratch behind the ears.

“Scram, Muffy.” you murmur to her. “I’ve already fed you.”

She looks up at you with a look that can only mean “and you’ll feed me more.”

She stalks back into the living room, fluffy beige tail disappearing behind the wall in a flick and a wave. You tie your hair back and yawn. What’s on the menu for dinner tonight?

Before you can think too much about eating, you remember that Chloe left you a voicemail before she took off. You fish your phone from your pocket and open your voicemail, tapping your toe against the linoleum floor as the dial tone plays.

You have one new message, chirps the robot voice of your mailbox.

“Hey girl. I’m boarding soon, so you probably won’t hear from me for a while. Make sure you feed Muffy, water the plants…” she clicks her tongue a few times, “take your meds, and don’t lay in bed for too long on the weekends. You know how that tanks your mood.”

Chloe might be a total hipster health nut, but it doesn’t make it any less sweet that she frets over you so much. You break into a smile and make a mental note to call her back.

“And. You can eat anything perishable of mine in the fridge or pantry while I’m gone. I doubt the bread or the veggies are gonna last long… you need to eat healthier anyway. No potato chips for dinner.”

Your smile grows. She knows you so well.

“I gotta go, but I’ll send you tons of pictures when I get there. Bye, babe.”

You hang up and set your phone down on the counter. Eyeing the bland looking loaf of brown bread, you decide you’ll have breakfast a la Chloe for dinner.

You toss the loaf onto the counter, then stalk to the fridge. The avocados seem pretty ripe. Tomatoes, too. You pick out one of each, then pluck a couple eggs from the carton you two share and set it all on the counter. Avocado toast with scrambled eggs sounds pretty Chloe.

You gut the avocado, tossing its pit in the trash and scooping its innards out into a bowl. The fork makes quick work of it, turning it into a mound of mild green paste. Salt, pepper. Done.

Hey, if Chloe let you eat her food, she’s bound to not mind that you’re using her nice kitchen knives too, right? You cut a few slices of tomato and grimace at its gelatinous, glistening center. You never liked tomatoes much, but she’s kinda right-- you do need to improve your diet.

Before long, you’ve got a nice thick slice of toast slathered in avocado and garnished with ripe red tomato sitting next to a steaming pile of scrambled eggs. This may not be your beloved salt & vinegar chips, but it sure looks delicious.

You snap a photo of your meal and text it to her. Am I healthy yet? you type, with a grin on your face.

Muffy stalks up to you, looking up expectantly. You sigh and toss her a morsel of scrambled egg. “That’s all you’re getting, you little twerp.” you admonish through a mouthful of toast. It’s not… delicious, but it’s not bad for some mushed up vegetable on top of an excuse for bread. You curse yourself for not adding some cheese to your scrambled eggs. That would’ve really been delicious.

You’d usually be scrolling through your social media right now, but something inspires you to look longingly out the window of the kitchen. The sky is a starless, inky black, obscuring everything except for whatever is illuminated by the weak orange streetlights. Usually there would be more traffic or drunk yelling-- you and Chloe didn’t exactly get lucky with the placement of your unit-- but tonight it’s eerily silent. That’s perfectly welcome to you, though. It’s much better than cranking up the volume of your music to drown out whatever street fight is occurring three floors below you.

Suddenly, your musing and its silence is broken by the sound of your ringtone. It’s half past midnight… who in their right mind would be calling you right now?

Unknown number. You frown and let it go to voicemail. Probably just some spam caller.

You finish your dinner and sit there in the silence, then check your phone again. You can’t help but be curious as to what message they’ve left you. Gingerly, you open your voice mailbox again and listen dispassionately to the dial tone and the little robot voice.

You have one new message and one old message.

The voice that erupts through your speaker is unfamiliar, smooth, low. All you can discern is that it’s a male voice, its tone almost perversely cloying.

“I was hoping you’d pick up.” A long inhale, a long exhale. “You seem a little lonely. Breakfast for dinner… cute.”

Ice cold horror washes over you and you can barely move your fingers to hang up. This has to be some kind of joke. Some stupid kid getting really, really lucky with their prank call.

But a question still sears into your thoughts:

Who would have known what you were doing?

That you were alone in your apartment?

Maybe, just maybe, by some insane stretch of the imagination, Chloe’s new boyfriend got ahold of her phone, saw your text, and decided to pull some prank. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s the only situation that makes sense, unless…

Somebody is watching you.

You nearly jump out of your seat as the phone rings again. Unknown number. Your hands tremble over it as your panicked brain deliberates picking it up. Before you can think about it any more, you’ve snatched it into a sweaty palm and brought it up to your ear.

“Chloe, this isn’t fucking funny. Cut it out.” you try to sound intimidating, but your voice trembles in just the wrong way with each word.

“You picked up.” the voice breathes, and you swear you can hear a sinister smile creep onto whoever’s face it belongs to. “You must really be lonely.”

“I said stop, Chlo--”

“My name’s not Chloe.” he snarls, and your empty threat dies in your throat immediately. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, his voice slips back into that relaxed, amused tone. “But I do wish I were spending a month in Hawaii right now. Lucky girl, isn’t she?”

Another pang of fear hits you like a brick. You swallow hard, biting your lip. “Whoever you are, leave me alone. Or I’ll… I’ll call the cops.”

“What exactly are you going to tell them, sweetheart? That some big mean boogeyman is leaving scary messages on your phone?” he lets out a mocking laugh. “They’ll send their best officers, I’m sure.”

“Leave me alone.” is all you manage to say, breathless and trembling, before you force yourself to hang up and practically slam your phone down onto the counter. Muffy jumps and cocks her head at you. You force yourself to break out of your panicked stupor and hurry over to the kitchen window, glancing hurriedly to the left and right of it. If somebody were on the fire escape, you surely would have heard it.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You yank those curtains shut, then the curtains on the living room window, then finally the ones in your bedroom. You remember Chloe locking and shutting her windows, so there’s no need to check in there. Something tells you to anyway.

You creep to her doorway, palms sweaty. There’s probably nothing to see in there, you think to yourself, the curtains were already shut.

Looking into her room, your stomach drops.

The curtains are tucked neatly to the side, and her window is cranked all the way open, letting in the cool night air and the sounds of the streets. You nearly choke in horror and rush over to shut the window, making sure the lock is tightly down before throwing the curtains back over them. You must have just misremembered. She probably left the window open to let some fresh air in, or something.

But she never leaves her window open, or Muffy would get out, you realize.

“Oh my God.” you gasp to yourself, before you sprint to the kitchen and grab the biggest, meanest looking knife in the drawer, as well as your phone. Muffy meows at you curiously, then yelps in indignance as you swiftly scoop her up by the stomach and fly to your room.

“Sorry.” you mutter as you practically toss her onto your bed, then lock your door. It’s a pathetic, flimsy mechanism, and could probably be picked with a fork, but it’s better than nothing. You pause, surveying the room for any heavy objects, and settle on jamming your full laundry hamper under the doorknob. At least this way you’ll hear any intruder before they make it into your room. The knife you tuck under your pillow as you scramble under your covers and turn your lamp off.

Your hands shake as you dial Chloe’s number. The phone rings once, twice, then goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey, Chlo,” you say shakily. “Uhm, I got some really weird calls from somebody tonight and I think our apartment might have been broken into. Or something. Uh,” you swallow hard, “Muffy and I are locked up in my room right now and I have a knife. I could be just imagining things, but if you don’t hear from me for a while, I probably got murdered or something.”

God, you sound so stupid right now, but it’s the best you can muster when your thoughts are racing at a million miles an hour.

“I’ll call you when I wake up tomorrow. Bye.”

You plug your phone in and set it on your nightstand, shrinking down underneath your duvet. Nothing is visible in your room, even as your eyes adjust to the darkness, except for the glow of the hall light you left on under your door.

It’s going to be a long night.

Check out this story and the rest of its chapters on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28688007/chapters/70331253

#dead by daylight #danny johnson #the ghostface #jed olsen #fanfiction #murder and intrigue huehuehue #getting stalked basically #cat and mouse type shit

13 notes · View notes