#I’m kidding guys I didn’t find it behind a Pizza Hut

[probablygayattorneys]

You know, this game really isn’t very nice to those of us who didn’t buy it firsthand and are instead playing loose copies we found out back behind the Pizza Hut while meeting the guy with blue hair who says he can see the future.

[dumbass-extraordinaire]

Duck, Duck, Grief

The newly reopened wound on Aubrey’s thigh throbs dully as she limps away from the base of the ruined Mt. Kepler and back towards the gate.  She hears a voice in the back of her mind, the sensible one that sounds a lot like Duck, telling her that walking on an injured leg is a bad idea and that she’s only gonna make it worse.  A louder, more vicious voice tells her she deserves it.  This one doesn’t sound like Duck.  She ignores them both and keeps walking.  The night air is cold, numbing her exposed arms and face.  Aubrey is grateful for it.  Having a body feels like an impossible task right now.  Thinking is out of the question, because thinking means acknowledging everything that just happened- 

(gone all gone all gone he’s gone he’s gone it’s all your fault why couldn’t you heal him useless you didn’t even try you told him to leave he was supposed to leave now he’s gone it’s your fault)

-and she wasn’t ready.  Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her ears were buzzing and it was too cold and she couldn’t breathe-

(he’s on the ground his eyes are open he doesn’t see you he isn’t breathing why isn’t he breathing his hands are cold he is never cold he is always warm warm warm warm smile warm laugh cold)

“Miss, are you okay?  Can you hear me?”

There is a voice above her-

(it is not his voice you will never hear his voice again your fault all your fault dead dead dead)

-the voice continues, but it is not talking to her anymore.

“I think she’s in shock-- Oh god, she’s bleeding, oh that’s real bad, aw jeez,” warm hands grip her arms and lift her to her feet.  She doesn’t remember falling to her knees.  That explains why her leg feels like it’s on fire-

(burning burning the house is on fire there is a man in a mask her dad is on the ground burning)

  She is vaguely aware of being half-carried over to an ambulance.  They sit her down, telling her to put pressure on the wound, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.  She does this without comment, cannot open her mouth for fear that the words will come tumbling out and never ever stop.  She does not move.

…

Duck and Minerva had just finished taking down the abomination and were making their way over to Leo Tarkesian and Dr. Sarah Drake when they saw the top of Mt. Kepler lift into the air, then came crashing back down, shaking the earth and causing the telescope to creak and sway a little, which in all honesty was really terrifying.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Duck yelped as the ground shook with the aftershocks of the mountain’s collapse.  He lost his balance but Minerva grabbed his arm to steady him before he could fall over. 

“Duck Newton You Should Be Careful!  Core Strength Is An Integral Part Of Any Hero’s Skill Set!” She exclaimed cheerfully, clapping a hand onto his shoulder with almost as much force as the mountain’s collapse.

“Thanks Minnie,” he wheezed, rubbing his sore shoulder.  Sarah ran up to them, her eyes wide with shock.

“What the hell just happened to the mountain?” she asked, her face pale with fear.

Duck scratched his head.  “Honestly, Sarah?  I got no earthly idea, but we should probably go find out,” he sighed.  “C’mon, we got a ways to go.”

The group of four made their way across the field towards the parking lot, Minerva still giving Leo a piggyback ride on account of his injuries.  When they reached the front gate, Sarah paused and turned to Duck.  She looked as exhausted as he felt.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, “As fun as this has been, I think I’ve just about maxed out my daily limit for weird.  If it’s all the same to y’all, I think I’m gonna head on home.”  She points to him, “Don’t think this means I’m gonna let you off the hook about this, mister.  I expect an explanation.”

He salutes her playfully, “Yes, Ma’am.  I’ll have that report on your desk by Monday.”

She smiles and says, “See ya around, Newton,” before turning and walking into the night.

Duck, Minerva, and Leo do the same, making their way to Duck’s government-issued truck.  He chucks the extra broadsword into the truck bed, slings Beacon back around his waist, and slides behind the wheel exhaustedly.  A part of him waits for Aubrey to call shotgun before remembering with a start that she isn’t with them.  He’s so used to having her and Ned as back up in life threatening situations that their absence right now is disconcerting.  He’s more than a little anxious to see them again; they’d all been so busy with their own situations the past few days that they hadn’t had much of a chance to hang out.

“What A Fine Chariot This Is, Duck Newton,” Minerva booms jovially, slapping the roof of his truck.  There is the distinct sound of crumpling metal.

Duck squints blearily at her as she squeezes into the passenger seat, mentally cycling through the five stages of grief as Minerva buckles her seatbelt.  He turns the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot.

… 

The closer they get to Amnesty Lodge, the more nervous Duck gets.  Not for the first time since the whole Sylvain mess started, he resents Kepler’s location in the Radio Quiet Zone.  Usually he didn’t mind not having a cellphone, but right now he would give just about anything to call Aubrey and Ned and make sure they’re okay.  The herd of ambulances and police cars heading towards the Lodge do nothing to quell Duck’s mounting anxiety levels.

His anxiety turns to dread as he turns onto the dirt road leading to the lodge and sees the crowd of townsfolk gathered in front of the gate, an ambulance parked off to the side.  He jerks the truck to a stop and jumps out, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition as he scans wildly for his friends.  Minerva moves to follow him, but he stops her, telling her to watch out for Leo.  Things are complicated enough without throwing an honest-to-fucking-god alien warrior into the mix.

When he finally does see Aubrey’s colorful shock of dyed hair, it is both a relief and an extra source of stress.  A relief because she’s alive, and a source of stress because she’s sitting in the ambulance.

Duck rushes over to her, his heart dropping into his stomach as a list of every worst case scenario runs through his head.  Someone found out about the lodge, someone went through the gate who wasn’t supposed to and went on a rampage, Agent Stern arrested someone, someone got hurt, someone got killed.  At least Aubrey is okay.  And while he doesn’t see Ned anywhere, Duck isn’t too worried about the old guy.  He’d survived ramming into a Pizza Hut sign with a jetpack, as well as the explosion of said jetpack immediately afterwards.  The man was damn near unkillable.  He skids to a stop in front of Aubrey, his momentum almost causing him to crash into the side of the ambulance.  He takes her in, noting the bandage on her leg and the shock blanket around her shoulders.

“Y’okay, kid?”  He asks, “Aubrey?”  She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him or even seem to register his presence.  

That’s his first clue that something’s wrong, because he’s seen her like this before, after the whole ordeal with the Pizza Hut sign.  The hollow, haunted expression on her face is nearly identical to the one she’d worn that day.  It scared him then and it scares him now.

“Aubrey,” he repeats her name.  “C’mon kid, ya gotta talk to me.  I just got here, I’m way outta the loop.”  Nothing.  She just keeps staring blankly ahead.  He crouches down in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention.  Again, nothing.  Shit.

He stands back up and starts pacing, raking his hands through his hair, “Aubrey!”  He snaps.  The longer she stays unresponsive, the more nervous he gets, “I need you to say something, kid, you’re fuckin’ scaring me!”  Try as he might, he can’t quite keep the panic from bleeding into his voice.

Finally, finally, she looks up at him, and his heart breaks.

Aubrey looks absolutely wrecked.  Her eyes are bloodshot and ringed black with smeared mascara and eyeliner, her face blotchy and tearstained.  Disconcertingly, both her irises are a bright, piercing orange.  Duck figures this is something important, something he should ask her about right away.  He doesn’t, though, because he couldn’t care less about whatever earth-shattering event made Aubrey’s eyes change color.  He doesn’t care about all that world-saving, chosen one stuff, and he never has.  He cares about people, his people, and right now that’s Aubrey and Ned.  They’re the Pineguard, his family, and he would rather die than see them hurt.

“D-Duck,” Aubrey whimpers, her voice fragile like his ma’s best china.  “Duck, I couldn’t…h-he…”  She shatters, then, curling in on herself as she sobs.

“Hey now, uh,” Duck has never been good at comforting people, especially when they’re crying.  But this is Aubrey and she needs him, social anxiety be damned.

He sits down next to her on the tailgate of the ambulance, shifting so that he’s almost facing her, and puts his arms out, “Do you-- Ooph!”  Before he can finish his question, Aubrey collapses against him, sobbing into his shoulder.  Duck freezes for a moment, unsure, before wrapping his arms around her.

“I-It’s all,” she hiccups, “it’s all m-my fault, Duck, I-I couldn’t…”  She dissolves into sobs again, too distressed to continue.  Her shoulders shake with the force of it.

Duck pats her back awkwardly.  “Aw, Aubrey, I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says, “I don’t think-- don’t blame yourself, kid.  I’m sure you did everything you could.”  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because she starts crying even harder.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just hugs her tighter instead.  He hates himself a little for that, wishes to god that the words didn't stick in the back of his throat like old gum on the underside of a picnic bench.  Aubrey hiccups, and Duck rubs her shoulders soothingly.  He’s never seen her like this before, never seen her this broken.  Sure he’s seen her cry, seen her upset, but never like this.  Something is very, very wrong, and Aubrey’s clearly in no shape to tell him what, so he scans the crowd for someone who can.

Finally, he makes eye contact with Jake Coolice.  Which, okay, not exactly ideal, except for the fact that he’s standing next to Mama, who’s engaged in conversation with Detective Maygen.  Duck jerks his head towards the matriarch of Amnesty Lodge, hoping Jake picks up what he’s putting down.  The neon-cloaked Sylph looks confused, and he points at Mama and mouths her name in a silent question.  Duck nods emphatically.  Jake smiles and gives him two thumbs up before tugging on the sleeve of Mama’s duster to get her attention.  The older woman turns to Jake, who points in Duck’s direction.  She squares her shoulders, like she’s preparing for battle, and makes her over to the ambulance.  

The first thing Duck notices is how tired she looks.  The second is the blood on her shirt and hands.  

His blood turns to ice in his veins, “What the fuck happened?” he demands, “Are y’okay?”

Mama sighs, her whole body moving with it, “It’s not mine,” is all she says, and her shoulders slump in something a bit too much like defeat for Duck’s taste.

“Whaddya mean, whose is it then?” he asks, panic setting in.

She exhales softly through her nose.  “Duck, honey, I’m real sorry,” she begins, “now I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, ‘cause it ain’t no one’s fault.”  Mama pauses, looking up at the night sky before running a hand down her face.  There is dried blood under her fingernails.

“Whaddya mean, Mama, what happened?  What don’t ya want me blaming myself for?”

She looks pained, “Duck, sweetheart--.”

“No!  Don’t baby me, I aint a fuckin’ kid,” he snaps.  “What. The. Hell. Happened.”

“I-it was Ned.”  The response comes not from Mama, but Aubrey.  She pulls aways from Duck, exhaling shakily and wiping her eyes.

Duck stares at her.  “Whaddya mean, did he get hurt or somethin’?” he asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer to that question and hoping to god that he’s wrong, “Aubrey?”

She shakes her head.  “No, uh,” she takes a shaky breath, “Shit, I can’t do this.  Mama, uh, can you explain, please?”  Her voice trembles as she gives the older woman a pleading look.

Mama gives her a sad smile, “Sure, baby.”

“Thanks,” Aubrey sniffles.  Duck puts an arm around her and she buries her face in his shoulder.

Mama takes a deep breath, “Duck, ya said ya didn’t wanna be babied, so I guess I better just say it outright.  Ned ain't hurt, honey.  I’m so, so sorry, Duck, but he’s dead.  Ned’s dead.”

The words hit him like a punch in the gut, leaving him breathless and gasping.  

That can’t be right, Ned can’t be dead.  Ned ‘Cowardly’ Chicane, the only one of them with any sort of self-preservation instinct, the guy who just the other day had assured Duck that he didn’t need to worry about him getting hurt because he quote-unquote, “knew when to get the hell outta Dodge” was dead?  No way.  This had to be to work of the shapeshifter, or some sick practical joke.  It couldn’t be true, because if it was, it would mean Duck had failed.  It would mean that something happened and he hadn’t been there to take the big hit.  It would mean that Ned had taken the hit instead.  And he can’t handle that.  What’s the point of being the “Chosen One”, the so-called savior of the planet if he can’t keep the people he cares about safe?  

“Duck?”  Mama’s voice cuts through the haze of grief and shock clouding his brain.  He doesn’t respond, “You with us?”

He wants to argue, wants to break down and scream at the injustice of it all.  But he doesn’t, because he’s not the only one grieving Ned’s-- he’s not the only one affected.  Aubrey’s here too, huddled against his side like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.  God, she’s so young, still just a kid, really.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this at all, truth be told, but that’s not in the cards.  The least Duck can do is be strong for her.  He’s good at being strong.  So he pushes aside all his grief and anger and self-recrimination, packing them away in a cardboard box in some dusty corner of his mind to deal with later.  Aubrey comes first.

He takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Mama, I’m with ya.”  He runs a tired hand down his face, “What, uh, what happened?”  His voice trembles right at the end.  He clenches his jaw.  

Mama glances ever so slightly at Aubrey.  “I’m fine,” is all the young woman says.  Mama looks to the night sky, as if hoping the stars can tell her how to make this easier.  Whatever she was looking for, it isn’t there and she faces Duck once more.

She does that thing again, squaring her shoulders like she’s getting ready for a fight, “The Abomination, it took Ned’s shape an’ then spilled the beans about everything on television.  The lodge, the gate, Sylvain, all of it.  That’s why all these folks are here,” she gestures to the crowd of townspeople.  

“Ned, he killed it and came down here to try and divert ‘em, send ‘em on a wild goose chase.  It sorta worked, actually, he got rid of about half of ‘em.  He starts talkin’ folks down, tryin’ to get the rest of them to see sense,” she laughs bitterly, “And it mighta even worked, too, ‘cept then the glowing coffin shows up and out pops Dani.  And she’s all feral, completely outta her mind after being separated from the hot springs for so long.”  

Her mouth presses into a thin line.  “And then she, well… She charged these here folks, and Ned, he tackles her.  Thing is, you get a buncha scared folks with guns in one place, well, someone’s bound to get hurt.  And tonight, that was Ned.  He got shot, and by the time the ambulance got here it was too late.  There wasn’t nothing any of us could do,” she looks over at Aubrey when she says that.  “And that’s… that’s the whole story.  I’m sorry,” she gives him a sympathetic look, “Y’alright, Duck?”

Duck says nothing, just nods sharply.  Because how do you respond to something like that?  What do you say when someone’s been ripped from your life and you can’t remember the last thing you said to them?  What do you say?  What can you say that would be enough to encompass the raw, gaping wound that takes the place of your heart, the way your stomach drops, when you think of all the things left unsaid?  What do you say?

As it turns out, “Let’s go home,” is a pretty good start.

[svtskneecaps]

in the rain

Yoon Jeonghan x (gender neutral) reader

Words: 3k

nothing says summer like spending hours upon hours in a car together. at least nothing’s boring with jeonghan

day 6 of a tct summer collection

(my masterlist)

There’s something about road trips, intoxicating and refreshing and energizing and addicting. There’s something about the ideal of cruising down the highway as the scenery flashes past quicker than you can see, rolling over the hills and saying hello to the horizon at the peaks.

And so what if the RV is old and can’t quite hold at 65 mph on any incline above 20 degrees, and so what if there are two beds and an air mattress for the five of you to split, and so what if Jeonghan blew half his meal budget on cheez its and peanut butter and Mingyu bought more noodles and meat and ingredients than you can fit in the cabinets for meals you probably can’t make on the RV stove, and Minghao brought wine and ritz crackers and Chan showed up with eight pounds of candy and about as much instant ramen, and so what if you almost ran out of gas in the dead space between towns and every time you turn things fall off shelves and counters and leave those in the back scrambling to make sure nothing breaks? Road trips are about the adventure (“Shut up, Jeonghan, they are!”) and a trip without complications is just driving next to cows, and what’s so special about that?

Jeonghan’s limbs had reportedly started to atrophy behind the wheel (“I’m petrifying into a tree, we have to switch out!”), so he’d pulled into a rest stop to allow time for everyone to stretch their legs in a way that wasn’t probably illegal. This particular rest stop, you notice, has several dinosaur statues lined up by the picnic tables, and there’s only one other group there, a rowdy family ferrying food to and from a camper parked nearby.

The younger three, naturally, gravitate directly for the dinosaurs, yelling, “Chan, it’s Chan!” (with the exception of Chan himself, who seemed split between joining the joke or pretending he didn’t know them). Mingyu swings himself onto the tallest of the brontosauri with infuriating ease.

“It’s not fair,” you complain, struggling to climb on while using the baby stegosaurus statue as a step. “He should be struggling the most! He doesn’t know how to use those limbs!”

Mingyu sticks his tongue out at you, scooting away. “Yes I do!”

“He’d make a good gas station balloon,” Minghao notes, a slight smirk on his face. Mingyu flips around to make a face at him too, but Minghao just raises the camera hanging around his neck and snaps a picture, his smile only growing.

Jeonghan eventually steps in and supports your foot so you can crawl onto the dinosaur’s back. By the time you pull him up behind you, the other three have finished with the brontosaurus and wandered over to the T-Rex.

“I can’t believe it, he’s not even going to take a picture.” You click your tongue. “What do we keep that kid around for?”

“Wine, mostly,” Jeonghan says.

You sigh. “He does have pretty good taste.” You take out your phone. “Well, who needs him anyway?”

It takes a little bit of maneuvering to get the dinosaur’s face in with both of yours. The sculptor made the dino’s face just a touch too tall for an easy photo op, but you manage. Jeonghan’s breath is hot on your neck as he presses against you, and you pretend it isn’t making your hair stand up.

And then the picture is taken and he slides off the side of the dinosaur, heading over to the T-Rex.

You stay on the brontosaurus for a moment, watching him laugh at Mingyu trying to lift Chan onto the dinosaur’s shoulders (his whole face lights up and his head goes back; he never laughs long but you can’t look away).

Then you go inside.

He comes up next to you while you’re watching the screen with the weather forecast, tracking the green blob of the storm swirling over the roads.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks.

“We’re gonna be driving into it,” you say, surveying it. “From what I can tell, it’s just rain, so we should be fine.”

“Should?”

You shrug. “If I say anything definitive I’m going to jinx it.” You keep your eyes on the map. “If it gets too bad we can find a spot to pull off the highway and wait for it to blow over.”

“We can’t just wait it out?”

“We’re running late as it is, I don’t know if we have that kind of time. Jihoon’s gonna be ticked if we don’t show and I refuse to get on his bad side.”

“Aw, he’s all talk.”

“I’ve heard Mingyu bring up the story of his guitar more times than I can count, I’d rather not get my own the first time I meet him in person.”

He snickers, and you glace to the side to see him looking at you. You turn your gaze back to the forecast and pretend your heartbeat is normal.

“Well, if he tries anything I’ll tell him the story of my old friends who crashed and died driving in a rainstorm,” Jeonghan says.

“You had friends who died?”

“Nope,” he says cheerfully, “but Jihoon can’t prove that.” He leans his head on your shoulder. “And I’d rather my answer not change because of some rainstorm, okay?”

“No worries,” you say, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. “Quick but careful, that’s my motto. Nobody’s dying on this road trip.”

Death is not a good road trip adventure.

The clouds break as you follow the highway across the wide flat ranching fields. In seconds, the curvature of the earth’s horizon is masked by a curtain of rain. You flick on the headlights and slow down, sitting farther up in your seat as though that will let you see into the distance.

“Lucky this isn’t road trip season,” you say. You haven’t seen another car on the road for at least an hour.

“Yeah,” he echoes. “Lucky.”

His face is barely reflected in the window, distorting with each sweep of the wipers. You chance a glance. His knuckles are white on the armrest as he stares out the windshield.

“This is nothing,” you say. “It’s a baby storm. Did I ever tell you about the time I delivered pizzas during a hurricane?”

“Did they give you hazard pay?”

“Only like two bucks. Can you believe it?” You click your tongue. “Fuck Pizza Hut, am I right?”

He huffs something like a laugh, so you keep going. “Got a twenty dollar tip from this one guy who looked like he was in the middle of an intense dnd game, and I mean intense. Either that or it was a Lord of the Rings marathon, man looked like Gandalf.”

“But was it a good Gandalf?”

“I mean, I was convinced.”

“That’s not saying much, you were convinced by that kid in a hulk mask too.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “If I weren’t driving I’d smack you,” you threaten. “And he had the hands and bodysuit, too, he was the real deal! You couldn’t tell either!”

He actually snickers, but doesn’t argue. You’d both fought over the privilege of handing candy to the child, that last fall.

“And anyway, that wasn’t even the weirdest delivery I made that night.”

“I guess that makes sense, only the crazies call for a pizza in a hurricane.” His reflection in the window smiles, and even though you’re driving you dare to chance a glance; his face is lit up with a smile, his hand relaxed on the armrest. “Who was the weirdest?”

“Weird but wholesome, it was this older gentleman who spent like three minutes searching his wallet, I mean thank god he had a covered porch or I would’ve gotten even more soaked. His wife gave me these plums for a tip; I looked them up and it turns out they’re actually illegal, it was wild.”

He clicks his tongue. “You got tipped in illegal plums and you didn’t even share them with me?”

“This was before I met you guys. Those plums were long gone by the time I was in a spot to share them with you.” The pounding rain has died down enough that you feel confident enough to peel your hand away from the wheel to pat his thigh. “Don’t worry, if I get tipped in any other illegal foods I’ll be sure to share.”

He swats your hand away, but he’s laughing.

It’s still raining when you pull into the campground, but not pouring. A pleasant sprinkle, really. Jeonghan still complains about it as he and the others try to give you directions to back into the spot. Most of the directions conflict, and based on the way Minghao keeps shaking his head at the others, you probably could’ve been backed into the spot 30 minutes ago if not for-- well, whatever competition is going on behind you. Oh well.

By the time you finally throw the camper into park and get the awning pushed out, Mingyu has already gotten the portable grill out of the cabinet and set up outside, although he’s having trouble with the lighter. The RV is always stocked with six or seven of the stick lighters, but they’re pretty much guaranteed to be on their last dregs no matter when you try to use them. He’s already halfway through the collection, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pulls the spark trigger over and over, the flame only catching for a few seconds.

Jeonghan skips over, calling your name. “Come on,” he all but whines, “let’s go explore!”

“Weren’t you the one who was just complaining about how wet you were getting?” You glance out at the picnic table, which is still getting rained on even as Minghao and Chan struggle to drag it under cover.

“That was just because you were all safe and dry in the RV.” He wraps his arms around you and rubs his dripping hair against your shirt.

“Rude!” you yelp, pushing him away, but you’re laughing, and so is he. You huff, crossing your arms. “Well I was going to, until you started using me as your towel.”

“Well you’re all wet now, you can get a little more wet!”

There’s a barely a damp spot on your shoulder, but he’s got a shit eating expression and even that lights up his face.

“Oh no,” you say, “I’m soaked.”

He grins and takes you by the arm, dragging you fully into the rain. “We’ll be back in an hour,” he calls.

“Text me if you find the bathrooms,” Chan hollers back.

There’s a surprising amount of other campers parked around. A few have adults sitting on folding chairs, outside under an awning, cans in their hands. They wave cheerfully as you pass.

“That’s probably the bathroom,” you note, pointing at the building. It’s so dirty on the outside that you wonder if maybe it would be better in the long run to just take turns in the RV’s shower; most outdoor bathrooms like this are pretty gross inside.

“I’ll text Channie.” Jeonghan takes out his phone, bowing his head to block the screen and types out the message. You giggle watching his wet fingers slip across the screen. He bats distractedly in your general direction, finally managing to land a hit only once the message is sent, his phone in his pocket once again.

You find a playground at the bend in the road, where it doubles back to wind around to the exit. Jeonghan shouts, “Race you!” and takes off across the slick grass.

“False start!” you yell back, and even though he has way too much of a lead for you to catch up, you still take off after him. You see his foot slip out from underneath him once or twice, but the speed of his run keeps him from falling entirely. It makes for a funny picture either way, and you find yourself slipping as you laugh.

He seizes one of the swings, all but launching himself into the air. You skirt around his feet, ducking under his hand as he reaches out, as though to pat your head on the way by. There’s a puddle of water in the swing, but you’re already soaked from the rain that patters steadily onto your head, so what’s a little more?

Still, you wipe it off before you sit down.

Within moments, you’ve caught up to his altitude, the height of each swing leaving you floating at the peak before gravity takes over, jolting you onto the seat again.

“You’re better than I thought,” he says, flying past you, going forward as you swing back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your head follows him as you swing by again.

“Nothing.” You hear the grin in his voice.

“I’ll have you know, I was the swingset champion in every school and every camp I ever went to.”

“How many schools did you go to that had a swingset?”

“Sir that is entirely beside the point.”

His laugh rings out. “Right, right, of course.” Rain hits your face as you swing forward (or maybe your face hits the rain?). “I suppose that means you’ve gone all the way around the top bar before?”

“Of course,” you say. “And I nailed a kid in the head with a paper airplane from the peak of a jump off the swing.”

That seems to pique his interest. “Yeah? How many times did you manage that?”

“Once, and then they sent me to the office bc the kid started crying, but it was a good once.”

“If I gave you my shoe, would you be able to throw it to me from the swing?”

You almost slip off the swing. “Jeonghan I’m not going to throw a shoe at your head!”

“Not at my head! Just, to me. Like a gentle toss, so I can catch it and no one receives any bodily harm on the road trip.”

You breathe out. That makes more sense. Bodily harm is not a good road trip adventure.

He digs his feet into the trenches below the swing to stop his momentum, stumbling forward across the playground. He tosses a couple woodchips at you when you giggle, before slipping his shoe off.

“Dude, you’re gonna get your foot all muddy and then what?”

He yanks off his sock. “Then you’ll have to carry me to the RV sink.”

“Or I’ll hose you down in the yard; I saw a couple spigots on the way over and those bitches are icy cold.”

He wipes the shoe in the grass before lining up the shot, planting his foot on the ground. “Alright, catch!”

He misses.

When you’re done laughing at him, he tosses it again, this time actually managing to get it to you, even though it lands kind of wildly against your lap. You lean back for a few good swings, regaining the altitude you lost from the distraction of the catch and the laughter.

“Ready?”

Your first throw goes wild. The second nails him in the chest. The third he actually manages to catch.

By the tenth you’ve graduated to trick shots. He leaned over the playground equipment nearby and caught it. He tossed it to you from under his leg, and you caught it. You threw it over the bar and under the bar and with your nondominant hand and backwards and he caught it again and again.

“Alright, time for the jump.” You adjust your grip on the swing.

“You’re sure this is safe?”

“Of course it is.” You gesture for him to toss you the shoe, which he does. No trick shots that time. “I’ve done it before, remember?”

He looks oddly worried as he resumes his position on the ground a short distance away.

“Relax babe,” you say, “I got this.”

He straightens up at the nickname, a smile flashing across his face. “Alright,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Whenever you’re ready, babe.”

(you like when he calls you that)

You take two swings, building up the momentum. He takes two steps, eyes focused on you.

You let go.

The shoe leaves your hand, and your feet hit the ground, and then the woodchips slide and your balance is lost and your hands slam into the ground too.

He calls your name.

You huff out a breath, and then another, processing.

“Are you okay?” His hand is on your shoulder, and his eyes dart over you as he checks for injuries.

“Totally fine,” you say. “Did you catch the shoe?”

He huffs, half exasperated and half amused. “That’s your priority?”

“Listen dude, I didn’t just make the sickest trickshot of the year just for you to drop the shoe cause I broke my ankle.”

He shoves your shoulder and you clutch it like he’s wounded you, dropping to the ground with a grin.

“Of course I caught it,” he says. “I would’ve caught you too but you jumped the wrong way.”

You scoff. “Alright, that’ll be the next trick shot.”

For a second you think he might actually be considering it, but his phone rings. He answers, listening for a few seconds before moving it away.

“Mingyu got the grill working,” he says to you. “Chan added helpfully from the background that if we’re done kissing we can come back for food.”

You raise your eyebrow. “We’re kissing?”

He shrugs. “If you want.”

He says it flippantly, but his eyes trail over your lips.

You stand up, helping him up after. Your hands linger. He’s still looking, and you find your eyes drifting too.

You lean in, quickly, before you can change your mind, and press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. He freezes, and then pulls you close, a real kiss this time. It’s like a fire exploding, and the chill of the rain is forgotten. You can hear a faint “Ew!” from the phone still held in Jeonghan’s hand, and you feel him smirk against your mouth.

You break apart, staring.

And then you take off like a shot across the grass. “Race you!”

You hear his footsteps chasing after you. “Hey, no fair! I’ve only got one shoe!”

Throwing your head back, you laugh, the rain slamming into your face.

(like a call and response, his laughter reaches your ears. it sounds like a sunrise)

[transboygenius]

SE4SON: Chapter 17

[*Back in medieval*]

Before they were ready to eat, Jimmy helped Nick out of his armor.

"Do you plan to wash this silver paint off any time soon?" Asked Jimmy. "I thought about it, but then I realized how pretty it makes my armor look. Gotta have bling!" Replied Nick. "*Light chuckle* (Real Nick is so extra.)" "Also, may I change the subject here? About our secret... While I can trust Diana to keep her mouth closed to Mitzi, I'm pretty sure both Rodent Girl and Benson overheard us, and how do we know they won't snitch?" "Well, they are our friends. What friend would snitch on another friend?" "Sheen." "Good point and I hate it."

A cold, familiar voice was then heard. Guess who's back?

"Did I hear the word 'secret' coming from you two?"

Jimmy and Nick recognized that cold, familiar voice. They both turned their heads around, and found that Mitzi had returned from work. She was looking very displeased at them, as usual.

"MITZI! Uhhhhhh... We were just discussing a personal matter amongst ourselves!" Said Jimmy. "How personal might that be? ...demons?" Asked Mitzi. "Very, very, very, very, very, very, very very, very, very-" "That personal matter is how you'll never be able to find where we hid our newly built time machine, since we know you sabotaged the last one! You can search this acre from top to bottom, left to right, but we hid it REAL good! Both of us are from the future, which means we're way smarter than you think! It's out of sight, and out of mine! Try to guess where it is, sister!" Nick had to butt in. "It's on the barn roof." "Completely random answer! WRONG!" "I'm looking at it right now."

Jimmy and Nick then looked up on the barn roof. There was their time machine, just like she said.

"Time for plan B." Said Nick.

The tall boy rushed to the shed, took the ladder, and then broke it in half.

"Good luck learning how to fly!" "Good luck to you, too." Replied Mitzi, before walking away from them.

Nick just destroyed the only ladder, which means him and Jimmy won't reach the time machine themselves. The boy genius doesn't know which idea was more stupider: Nick not thinking before breaking the ladder, or putting the time machine on the roof in the first place. Jimmy glared up at Nick, with his arms crossed.

"What? I only had one brain cell processing at the moment!"

.......................

[*That night*]

"Thank Rodent Girl's greediness! That moose will be gone by breakfast!" Said Nick. "I can't wait to gorge down on some pizza when we get home. I really miss food with saturated stearic acids." Replied Jimmy. "Big mood. I just wanna eat ice cream straight out of the carton." "(First 'brain cells,' now 'big mood?' Does Nick own a blog on Tumi?)"

Just as the two boys were about to enter the barn, Jimmy stopped for a moment, standing funny.

"Eeeeeeehhh, you might have to excuse me. I hear Diana calling my name. Behind that bush." Then Jimmy ran for it.

Nick is obviously aware that Jimmy needs to take a number one, but is too embarrassed to tell his friend. Although Nick wouldn't care otherwise, he still respects his friend's privacy. The boy walked into the barn, ready to settle in bed. Only, to come to a Goldilocks surprise...

"(Somebody is sleeping in my bed.)"

It was that little girl he thought was following him awhile back. Nick hovered over the tiny sleeping human, still believing that it's just a construct of his imagination. Just out of curiosity, he poked the child a couple of times. He poked it so much, it eventually woke up to say "Stop poking me! I'm trying to sleep!" Frightened, Nick let out his signature high pitched girly scream.

"Nick?" Jimmy had returned from his bathroom break. "Oh. Jimmy! Tell me the next storm is coming soon! My mind is in a spiral right now, and I'm starting to hallucinate! There's that little girl, who I presumed had been following us, right there on my bed! And it spoke! IT SPOKE! I'm not gonna make it, man!" "It's okay, Nick. Calm down-" "No, it's not okay! My head is playing tricks on me! What's worse is that I think my brain is trying to send me a message, only I don't know what it's suppose to mean!" "It's okay, cuz I see her too." "You do?" "*Nods head*" "Then that means... AHA! I WAS RIGHT AFTER ALL! SUCK IT, JAMES! Sorry. Sorry, the enthusiasm went way out of hand there." "No biggie. I deserved it anyways."

The little girl then stood up. She appeared to be the same height as Jimmy. Next, she spoke.

"*Ahem* My apologies, majestic ones. I meant to wait for you so I could appropriately introduce myself. I got a little drowsy from all that waiting, so then I just nodded off, I guess. My name is Sally Philip, daughter of Joseph Philip. Does that name ring a bell to you?" "I've met a Joseph Sander, Joseph Winslow, Joseph Miller..." Nick began to list. "Bob Philip. Shelia Philip. Donny Philip. Don't-Remember-First-Name supermarket bag person Philip..." Jimmy also listed. "Sorry." Both replied. "Hmmmmm. Perhaps this will refresh your memory: You were with him by the time he were my age? You know, that little runt that always followed you around, pestering you with conversation starters, begged to be taught magic and learn a knight's fighting honor?" "I'm afraid we have no idea what you're talking about. I've had a little 'brother' just like that, but he never begged me to teach him magic, or battle mechanism." Said Jimmy. "You have a brother?" Whispered Nick. "I'll explain it later. He's currently serving time on the moon." Replied Jimmy. "So, you don't remember?" "I am certain we never met a Joseph Philip in our life!" Exclaimed Nick. "Perhaps you mistook us as someone else." Also exclaimed Jimmy. "How could I mistook the Wise Wizard and Silver Knight?" "WHAT-?!" Both Jimmy and Nick. "Don't tell me you don't remember who you two are. You, *points at Nick,* does the name "Silver Knight" come to mind? And you, *Points at Jimmy,* I don't know any sane peasant who walks around in a cloak and pointy hat!" "It was the only thing in my size." Said Jimmy. "And is it a coincidence that you two happen to travel as a duo? The Wise Wizard and Silver Knight never travel separate!" "Sounds like a coincidence to me." "How 'bout the fact that the Wizard bears fair skin, chocolate brown locks, and sapphire blue eyes?" "Still a coincidence." "What about me? Any info for the knight?" Asked Nick. "Nawwww, my father never seen your face. WAIT, maybe the trouble isn't that you can't remember who you are! But, you probably have amnesia!" "I'm sorry, but didn't you mentioned that your dad met these weirdos when he was around, your age? How old are you?"  "I'm eight." "So, if me and Jimmy were around that time, we wouldn't be standing right here with our young selves! I believe you're looking for old men,  who each own a ridiculous wizard costume, no offense bro, and a silver suit of armor!" "But your partner here is master of sorcery, better than any wizard the people knew! Actually, he was the only wizard people knew. He could conjure up the elements of animal communication, size changing, and a de-aging process! You probably lost your memory in the middle of the spell. He did mention there were side effects." "(Now this girl is delusional.) One, there is no such thing as magic. Two, where do you get all these descriptions if you weren't born by then?" Asked Jimmy. "My father wrote it all down."

The little girl pulled out a big, thick, diary book, titled "Joseph's logs," and then handed it to Jimmy.

"I think it will help regain the memories you've lost. I will do whatever in power it takes to overcome your amnesia!" "A lot of questions come to mind, but I have only one in particular right now: Does your parents know you followed a couple of strangers to an isolated farmland, and then slept on said strangers' bed?" Questioned Nick. "No. I'm sure they wouldn't mind anymore." "Why's that? Are they easygoing?" "No. They've been hanged."

An awkward silence took place. Nick now feels bad for all the sass he's given. The poor girl lost her parents. And she had a lot of guts to just say it without hesitation.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Said Jimmy. "No need for pity. I've gotten over it *About to cry again, but she manages to hold it back in* a couple days ago. I shouldn't be crying. Mother always told me, real women don't cry." "Are you currently under a guardian's care?" "Please, nobody is placed under anybody's care around here. Waifs get taken into the custody of child labor." "Man, that must suck! They'd do that to kids?!" Said Nick. "You could always book in with us. The Faithful Five Plus Two, I thought of the name, always opens their arms to the unfortunate ones in need! We have enough food and shelter!" Jimmy suggested. "Is this one of those hospitalities where I'm expected to carry my weight around?" "Well, this hut land is owned by the She-Hulk, so I don't think freeloading is an option." Said Nick. "Ughhhhhhh, I hate chores. It's good! I feel at home already!" "You can stay, but on one condition. Please stop addressing us as the funny little characters in your dad's made up fairytales." "The Wise Wizard and Silver Knight aren't made up! They're real! Ask anyone! Anyone who is old! Second, I came to you two cuz I thought you would help overthrow the king and save us all from our poverty! You're the town's saviors!" "I wouldn't go far to call us that, but don't worry. We have a plan that is already setting in motion!" Said Jimmy. "You're gonna turn him into a gerbil!" "Huh? No. We got through to the king with a settlement. All we have to do now is figure out what he wants over dinner." "And then you'll turn him into a gerbil!" "There's no such thing as magic! We've just set a bargain with him!" "Set a bargain? Do you two have a death wish? You're more ill-minded than I thought! I recommend you look through my father's diary right now!" "Trust us! We've got this under control. He was very polite to us, and he seemed interested in our standpoints." "It's deception, guys! I just know it! This is a man who hanged his last chancellor for eating the last raspberry scone!" "How 'bout we at least figure out what the king wants first? If anything the king offers sounds suspicious, we could always turn the tables on him. We may not have magic, but we do have our brains." "That's what he said." "What?" "That's exactly what the Wise Wizard would say! 'It's not always about power that makes your enemies yield, but also using your brains to find their weakness!' Though your memories are lost, you still hold a piece of yourselves deep inside you!" "We're not who you think we are! I'm Jimmy Neutron, and this is Nick Dean!" "I can't believe I'm the first human being to actually learn your real names! *Fangirl squeal*"

Jimmy then turned to Nick for help.

"Nick, it's hopeless! What do we do now?" "I think we should just let her use up all her energy and then wait until she falls asleep?" "Can't you think of anything else but your beauty sleep?"

........................

[*One hour later*]

Turns out Nick's suggestion worked after all. Sally eventually tired herself out and fell into a deep sleep. Fortunately, so did Nick. He was lying on his back, while Sally slept on top of him. Jimmy put a blanket over them, just to keep them both from getting cold. He wasn't feeling all that tired right now, so he decided to read the diary Sally handed him earlier. Each entry was dated, around the late 1400s. They were stories, based on young Joseph's experience with the Wise Wizard and Silver Knight, as well as the duo's own.

The Wise Wizard used to be a clinician who'd give medical treatments to peasants for no charge. Food and shelter was never a problem for him. His home was his laboratory, which he used to brew potions or experiment on new spells. Whenever he needed to feed himself, he'd just magically conjure up his own food just by taking a measly sample. He could turn a crumb into a whole cake, or a seed into a full fruit. Sometimes he'd use his magic for the sake of helping others, but they always end up having a sense of hostility around him. Sorcery was considered as a threatening concept. The way people looked down on this man never stopped him from helping the weak. However, only the children enjoyed his presence.

The Silver Knight was the kingdom's top-class, superior warrior. He possessed the highest quality of fighting strategies. His defense skills were beyond compared. He successfully rallied up more foes than any knight has achieved. The fellow knight has saved King Todd's butt for about 16 times. He rescued his daughter 10 times. No knight dared to challenge him in a joust, because he triumphed every single one. He was unbeatable, and unstoppable. Brave, strong, and smart. Nothing has killed him yet. The king honored his excellency by giving him a new suit of armor, encrusted in silver. Not only that, but he was also welcomed to dine with the king at the table, and he teaches combat tactics to his own school of knights. Everything about him was perfect.

Except, he wasn't happy with himself. He was extremely miserable. The Silver Knight never took breaks, any vacation time, or even showed some real emotions. He had a very strict father that trained him to be the boldest man alive. The training put a dent in his childhood, and lives up to the mighty macho figure he is today. He has risked himself many painful injuries during battles and wars, and is expected to not be bothered by them. Many peasants are out having fun, while he's stuck with his job. He flirted with any female civilian that is infatuated by him, despite the fact that he is not fond of women. The knight has strayed away from sweets and only consumed big meaty dishes. He prefers sweets over savory foods, but what man would that make him? He was alone, bored, and secretly scared. He stayed in his armor at all cost because he feels more comfortable with his true self hidden. Behind his helmet, he is always crying.

Enough is enough! Early in the morning, he snuck out of the castle and paid a visit to the forest, where he interacted with the adorable woodland creatures. Suddenly, he heard smooth, faint talking. He picked up his spear and followed the sound. He found a funny dressed young man, giving company to a brutally injured deer. Finding his actions suspicious, the Silver Knight ran up to the wizard, and pointed his spear at him. The wizard merely explained that he was trying to heal the deer, and proved it in front of him by showing off his magical feats. After the deer's injuries disappeared, with a slight of glittery hands, it managed to get back on his feet and then lick the wizard as a thank you.

Dropping his weapon in shock, the knight was very amused by the young wizard's talent. He has never seen anything like it, nor has he ever heard of magic. While most adults in the middle ages adjudged magic as being menacing voodoo, due to witch activity, this was a whole new discovery for the knight. He asked the wizard if he could do it again, even willing to stab himself in the arm for it. Instead, the wizard suggested he try some new tricks. He turned an acorn into a full grown tree. He shrunk himself and the knight down to the size of squirrels, and shared a large apple together. He gifted the knight the ability to fly, which only lasted for five minutes. The two bonded for three hours, and the knight didn't care if he was behind schedule. He finally got a break like he always wanted, and now he has been rewarded with a friend.

It was fate that brought these two together. One year later, they grew even closer than ever. They rebuilt the lab even bigger so the knight could move in. They'd fool around with magic for a bit, sometimes have long conversations, or hang out at the area they first met. The wizard was allowed to visit the castle whenever he pleases. The knight is learning to do magic, although he's very bad at it. He finally decided to take time off every now and then, just like the other knights. The wizard had showed the knight that it's okay to have fun. It doesn't make you less valid than you already are. Your happiness is just as important and healthy. If the Silver Knight haven't met the Wise Wizard, he would have never come out of his shell. Nobody understood him more than the wizard.

They were always very protective of each other, too. The wizard would assist his friend in battle, even though he tells him it's too dangerous. The knight would shield any insults thrown at the wizard. They had an adorable knack of doing good deeds for one another, because of how much they cared.

One afternoon, while the two men were chilling in their favorite calm zone in the woods, a little boy, named Joseph, showed up out of nowhere, with a cherry cobbler as a peace offering. He used to be one of the orphan children the Wise Wizard entertained for. He was also a big fan of the Silver Knight. Seeing them together was like a match made in heaven. Being a fan of both, he begged them to teach him magic and fighting skills, since their powers influenced the child so much. Instead, they each gave him an autograph, and politely asked him to leave. Unsatisfied, he pestered them for a whole week, including popping up in places he's not suppose to follow them in. They eventually gave in, and decided to teach him during their leisure times.

Joseph was one of the worst trainees the two had dealt with. He kept screwing up magic spells, and his battle tactics were too careless and aggressive. The truth was, Joseph never really cared about magic or warrior skills. He just wanted to feel the nurturing presence of parents, since he was an orphan. Joseph either wanted one of them, or both of them, to be his fathers. He was hoping they'd soon come to their senses and then adopt him. Who wouldn't want two awesome dads as these? They have showed him more love than any adult he interacted with. And speaking of love....

The binding chemistry between the Wise Wizard and Silver Knight was quite questionable to the young boy. The best of friendships can be as much passionate and bonding, but he has never seen a more complex friendship as theirs. They'd hold hands. The knight loved to serenade his own written tunes to the fellow wizard. They gave each other some cutesy pet names such as sweetheart, darling, and my dear. He even witnessed them kiss mouth-to-mouth, without catching a glimpse of the knight's face. Their relationship was what you'd compare to a romance, rather than a platonic union. Joseph was still convinced that they were just friends, despite the obvious signs in front of him. A few months ago, the king offered the Silver Knight to take the princess's hand in marriage, but he rejected that offer. The Wise Wizard didn't have a female lover of his own as well.

Based on how he was raised, Joseph just can't picture two men showering each other in romantic affection. From all the books he's read, and every public relationship he's seen, it has always been a man and woman together. Just men kissing women, and men marrying women. He didn't think something like that could happen to two people of the same gender, maybe because he has never acknowledged it before. No one has ever taught little Joseph that love could be diverse. The only way he'll find an answer if he asked one of them. The first person he came up to was the Silver Knight. Just as he questioned the friendship between him and the Wise Wizard, he responded with,

"Such a naive child you are. What me and my dear wizard have is more than of a friendship."

Jimmy stopped reading right there. It sounded as though these two characters, who are both men, are in love with each other. Two men in love? That's repulsive! Women and men were meant for each other! Aren't they? It... It just doesn't seem normal! That's what he was raised to believe. Jimmy thought back at the book, and Joseph's perspective on the wizard and knight's relationship kind of reminded him of himself, except it was towards his certain feelings for Nick. What he feels for Nick right now holds the same vibes he had for Betty, Sally, April, and Cindy. Him and Nick have grown very close to each other in this past week. He was fond of him for his kindness, his modesty, his relatable interests, and just now, he realizes how handsome he is. No wonder girls used to swoon around him.

Maybe... Maybe love isn't suppose to just work one way. Science never claimed love worked one way. Love could work the other way, both ways, or no way at all. It could also be based on the factors of your prenatal testosterone and estrogen, running in your genes. If gender can be a spectrum, then perhaps romantic or sexual attraction can be too. But just because science never claimed love was meant to be hetero only, doesn't mean he has fully explored on this topic. Jimmy could be in love with Nick, and he's afraid it might be true.

"(I can't call myself a scientist if I don't know everything! Why don't I know everything? 'Specially a question as simple as this?)"

...........................

[*Back at the castle, five hours earlier*]

King Jason was sitting in his main throne room, playing with the servants in his favorite game: Hang-man. The king was winning as usual. They always let the king win. All of a sudden, Richard poked his head into the room, interrupting the game.

"Pssssssssssst! Sire?" "*Sigh* What this time be, Richard?" "Can I have a moment to speak with you? In private, if you wish."

Rolling his eyes, Jason requested his staff to clear the room so he could speak with his chancellor alone.

"Couldst this personal subject beest any more important than my game time?" Asked Jason. "Well, in sooth, aye. About those boys..." Richard replied. "What about the boys?" "It- It's not like you to forgive someone after trespassing on your domain, and posing as your authorities! Those two could've been thieves!" "But it turns out they weren't. Get over it." "I'm just curious, sire. What is't about these two dram troublemakers do you find interesting?" "You mean you don't recognize them? Their outfits are a dead giveaway!" "Frankly I don't. Please-don't-hang-me." "Maybe this sketch drawing, that I happened to illustrate myself a long time ago, will give you a clue!"

Jason then pulled out a piece of paper with two stick figure designs on it, with the word "SICKOS" written above the two characters, who were dressed like a knight and wizard. It looked like it was drawn by a kindergartner.

"Uhhhhhh... Still doesn't ring a bell, sire. But that's a very, very, wonderful piece of art!" "IT'S THE INFAMOUS WISE WIZARD AND SILVER KNIGHT, BLAST IT!" "Huh- Ohhhhhhh, them! I remember now! Although I've never seen them, I have heard of them! My mother used to tell me stories about their adventures during bedtime- My apologies, sire! I didn't mean to suddenly make this about me! And another question dawns on: The two gentlemen you were talking to a while back were boys. Weren't the Wise Wizard and Silver Knight men?" "You don't know what they're capable of doing, don't you, Richard?" "Well, they save the day, aid the poor-" "None of that nonsense! The Wise Wizard is most acclaimed for his talent in phenomenal enchantment feats! (Shame that he wasted it on poor souls) One of them being the power to de-age oneself! Don't know why they did it, but possibly as a rebirth form to stay alive longer than any mortal would! Ever since they walked out of the village to start a new life, I knew it was now safe to establish my biggest scheme yet, since there was no hero to stop me from that point on! Father would have never suspected his own son to poison him. Hahaha. Those fools are to thank for!" "You, poisoned your own father? I thought he committed suicide!" "Shhhhhhhh! Now that you're the only person I've ever told, I am sure of it you'll never let my secret leave this room. Because, you know what will happen if you don't." "W-word of honor, sire! Word-of-honor." "They helped me reached my place to the crown once, and they'll do it again." "But sire, you're already king! What more could you want?" "I wanna rule the universe, not this filthy boxed up mudhole! I want to step up my status! I want the whole world to look up on me! Those two are the only ones who can make that happen!" "How can they make that happen?" "You'll see soon enough, Richard! You'll see!" "And is it alright for I asked one more question?" "Hmph. Shoot." "Whatever happened to your older sister? Have you poisoned her, too?" "Nah! I pushed her off the top of the castle. Unfortunately, she survived the fall. So I had her hanged instead. Ah, yes, it was also my very first hanging at the time. I had that noose bronzed, by the way! Wanna see?" "No thank you, sire. I've seen enough."

[delcat177]

My Dinner With Garfield: An AppVenture

Just because you’re smiling doesn’t mean you haven’t drowned --They Might Be Giants, Dark and Metric

There was a time in my life where I genuinely enjoyed Garfield.  There has never NOT been a time in my life where I haven’t genuinely enjoyed free money.  I consider myself a warrior of fortune--you can daily find me dutifully filling out surveys and watching ads in various services that will give you gift cards for being a cog in the capitalist machine, and I’ll put my hand in toward anything promising semi-paid semi-labor.

This is especially true with ground-floor terribly-planned enterprises, which is how I was able to legally flimflam Bing out of $15 worth of gift cards by searching for pictures of animals once a day.  So of course after the initial wave of nausea and secondhand embarrassment over Garfield Go, I was installing it and ready to see how effectively I--and any other card-hunters--could grin and bear my way to some free Starbucks.

The Garfield emulation is so complete that you already know the punchline before reading it, but come along, won’t you?

WARNING: Yes I will be comparing it to Pokemon Go.  To be fair, it knows EXACTLY what it’s doing.

WARNING THE SECOND: I batch-edited these and Tumblr doesn’t like the size, but in keeping with the true Garfield spirit, I’m too lazy to edit them again.  You’re not missing anything.

The first thing I managed to do was break the app.  I disallowed AR, thinking that it would have a stock background similar to PoGo, because that shit eats battery like...God, I don’t have it in me to make a lasagna joke, just let it be said that rather than issue a warning, it went to an entirely black screen.  I fixed it manually and was greeted with Not Garfield on my coffee table, demanding food.  Contrary to his nature, he refused to eat anything I didn’t curveball directly into his dish.  My sister and warrior-in-apps commented on how I managed to land it in on my second try, and I realized I actually had an edge from never giving up on PoGo.  Not a lot of edge, and not enough to get it more than one out of three times, but it set my spirits moderately high.

I did some checking around in the app, and wasn’t able to find much to do while stationary except bake food.  I wasn’t sure what it was for, but when an app tells you to do a free time-based thing, you do it, and I threw a lasagna on.  I was offered the option to bake it immediately for more in-game currency than it cost to buy one.  I had a couple thousand free starter coins but also first-grade math skills, and declined.

The time was ripe.  After trading comments on how janky the controls were (you have to use two fingers in a twisting motion to change the map view, which is one of the dirtiest sounding and looking mechanics I've seen since jerk-off jogging in Wii Fit), my sister and I parted ways and the experiment began.

My nightly walks tend to be heavy on the “nightly”.  This led to the game’s first flaw disguised as a perk: While it’s true that it will gladly put its Pokestops anywhere (they’re Bistros here), “anywhere” includes “your neighbor’s apartment”.  They’re also full minigames, which means instead of giving your phone a quick swipe, you stop dead and play a lackluster Simon expy, because there is nothing less awkward and likely to get security called on you than standing in front of someone’s house at 11:42 at night silently tapping away on your phone for an extended period of time.  I threw the game, got some free food, and quickly moved on before I had to explain my motivations.

Things got dark fast.  I mean that literally.  One of the other reasons forced AR is a problem is that it isn’t built for nighttime play.  Every time I tapped a hotspot, it gave me a “Waiting For GPS” screen before dropping Goblinfield in pitch black, enticing me to appease him with baked sacrifices.  It’s a simple mechanic: If you successfully pitch food into his dish, Gerbfield will eat and then find a chest for you to open.  It’s also a highly broken one.  The food items are all made of lead that turns into rubber on the impact, requiring an unsatisfying Herculean toss to pitch a piece of cake that’ll most likely either miss or bounce back out again.  You get three tries, which is somewhat generous, but the sheer frustration nullifies it.  My frustration was amplified on the realization that GarGo does not allow you to throw high enough to even possibly hit Goobfield in the face.

"Hey kids, wanna see where I hid Lyman's body?  Tap the box."

One of the things that is admittedly sort of clever is having a button to tap to refresh hotspots.  One of the things that is not is not instructing the player that it's there.  I was a third of the way through my usual route before I noticed it and could begin playing again.  I stopped for a moment to relate the information to my sister. She replied that the app was claiming she was ten blocks from where she was and near an inexplicable horseshoe-shaped structure.  I took a side-by-side of where I was to relate GerBo's...relaxed attitude toward geography and also the laws of physics.

Novelty was running low, but I got a boost in determination from getting my first gift card...fragment?

Well, that explained how the gift card scenario was going to shake down.  I could guess how many first pieces of the promised $100 gift card were already being given out and how few of the next two would ever be found, much less that golden fourth, but that was fine.  I play these for the little prizes, not the big ones, because expecting to win anything that isn't roughly 1/80,000th the value they squeeze out of you is a recipe for disappointment.  I kept going.

The hotspots led me into the local Safeway, which happened to also house a Pokestop, and I ran flat against a new flaw: The game is NOT subtle.  PoGo can be played with relative normalcy 80% of the time, since you can turn AR off and keep marching staunchly ahead as you catch.  GerfCo requires either violently whipping around at 180 degrees or slowly turning the same distance with your phone up like a pod person, and I was quickly pressed to decide which was worse.  I ended up buying a candy bar as a social apology for looking like a jerk in a public place and hopefully as an unspoken excuse for being there.  Upon doing so, I realized I didn't have any cash on hand and was paying for a dollar candy bar at midnight in Safeway with a credit card, which made me look like a right pillock instead of a jerk, but now one hundred pennies deep into this venture, I soldiered on, chocolate in hand.

I had noticed by this point that the food system was tiered, so I switched to the one piece of lasagna starting the game had given me and stuck the landing. This gave me a "better chance" of finding the highest-tier chest, but I was unsurprised that it wasn't one.  I was more surprised by what was inside.

I hope you weren't expecting "that $100 gift card".  Ah, yes, Garfield's trademark white fedora, the one he's so known for wearing.  Compelled to take every chance available to make this experience as viscerally unpleasant as possible, I equipped it immediately.

This is why I need meninism.

Things weren't getting better.  The next refresh of the hotspots spawned absolutely every one on the other side of the street.  I was now adding "crossing the road in the middle of the night" to the list of fun-filled family activities GlorpNo had to offer.  I had run out of food and was now using the in-game currency to buy it fresh.  My iPod, which has slowly developed sentience over the years, kept shuffling up Mountain Goats songs.  I was starting to feel distinctly unnerved.

PoGo wasn't averse to getting its two cents in on the matter.

Standing outside of a dimly lit Pizza Hut where the cashier was closing out their drawer and probably wondering if the guy whipping around in half-circles outside the building was planning the world's illest-advised burglary, I won a comic strip panel.  Not a comic strip. A single panel.  Despite the ability to look up literally every Garfield strip ever made on multiple platforms with a casual Google search, I was being given a single panel of a single strip as a hallowed reward.  I pictured a small child working for days for the RNG to let them read a three-panel strip in full, staring bleakly at the one they had in the meantime and wondering if it was the punchline or the setup.  

I began redefining my understanding of the term "liminal space".

By this point, I was entirely out of food, nearly out of coins, and on my last percentage of patience.  As if sent by Jim Davis’ automated humorbot itself begging me to reconsider, I got a notification that the lasagna I had started making an hour and a half ago was done.  I hauled ass to the next hotspot and got ready to make good.

Yeah you all saw that coming.  You know, Globeel, if I tossed a fiver toward a busker’s case and it landed behind it, they would just pick it up.  I know it’s food but 1) you’re a cat 2) you are Garfield the Cat (question mark heavily implied) 3) at least the busker offers a return service.

I need to state that at this point I was actually going to stay with this game, despite my readily apparent feelings on it.  It's not fun, it's not a mentally rewarding experience, but I am by nature a patient person, and I was willing to stick with it for the eventual gains.  That's how you win at these things--being willing to put the time in for the gradual increments to stack up.  I was actually looking forward to going home and checking in on food I was baking and slowly going after the gold.

Then I decided to check what I had earned so far, and the entire thing came to a screeching halt.

Here’s the grift, folks, here's how the carnival game works.  Remember how the system is tiered?  You have to have the highest-tier item to get a chance of seeing one of those diamond chests, and there's no guarantee the piece will be inside.  Again, it takes an hour and a half to bake one piece of lasagna, or else 350 coins to buy one.  You get a small handful of coins from chests and a slightly larger handful if you finish a "trinket" collection, but unless you are willing to devote your waking hours to the game, your recourse is buying your way there.  And...how much are those coins?

Yyyyyeah.  It's Vegas, baby.  You pay to play and the house always wins.

So, friendly fast-buck-sters, this app definitely isn't worth it for money value.  If it was a matter of staying inside and rolling the dice while I multitask, I might be on board for chasing the golden ticket, but GlerbGubler demands all of your attention in public spaces and turns out Sisyphean as a result, if Sisyphus was constantly aware of how awkward he looked pushing that damned boulder. Play Lucktastic, join e-rewards, get into the sites that actually reward you consistently for a reasonable amount of effort.  Your time does have value, so make sure it's honored.

I uninstalled the app on the way home.  Deleted all the data I had, torched it. Stood on the sidewalk laughing, watching it burn, all tabby cat orange and lasagna sauce red.  Then I put on a top 40 station, got on the Hollywood Freeway, headed north.

Never could stand that cat.

[simonauclair-blog]

10 Ways to Avoid Stress

Stress is no good. For some kids and adults, I’ve learned, it can be easier for stress to find itself taking over people’s lives, and ultimately, eliminating people’s chances of having a good time. Stress is something that everyone deals with often, and it’s a real shame. For me, stress tends to reach me the most through having an overwhelming amount of homework. When dealing with the stress, you have to try and find ways to get rid of that garbage, because it’s not worth your time. Though I think it’s impossible to completely keep stress out of your life, I do believe there are ways to help give you breathers and solutions. Here are 10 things that have helped me:

1. Do your best to get done whatever it is that’s giving you the most anxiety/stress. Sometimes all it takes to beat your stress it to face the problem head on. For homework, this tends to be possible. For example, if my math and social studies homework is making me uneasy or overwhelmed, I’ll get ‘er done sooner than later. I’m aware that not all things that cause stress are able to be faced right away, but if possible, try and go for it.

2. Listen to some music. Music’s a funny thing, guys. Whatever your taste is, just listen to the songs that you enjoy. Music has an emotional effect on people, depending on how the instruments are played and the meaning being conveyed behind the lyrics that are sung/rapped. I recommend some happy music. Surprisingly, it can give you a little chance to recuperate. Also, if you’re like me, some lo-fi hip hop music can provide some gorgeous white noise when doing whatever it is you’re working on.

3. Get up and do the weirdest shit imaginable. Crazy, right? Nope. There’s most likely no one around when you’re feeling the most stressed, but if there are people around, all the more better. Start dancing. Doesn’t matter if you don’t dance (I know you can). Or, grab a pillow and scream in it. Grab a piece of paper and scribble as hard as you can on it. Make yourself laugh.

4. Unload. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned more recently is that you can’t hold stuff in. There’s nothing dumb, childish or shameful about telling someone about what’s bothering you, whether that be to a therapist, friend, family member, teacher or whoever. Everyone has issues. I guarantee you will find that people can relate to you more than you think. Keeping things in is a mistake. I honestly didn’t realize how much my problems were bothering me until I said them out loud to my mom. It can be nice to feel some reassurement and confidence. 

5. Hang with friends or family. Spice things up a little. Don’t keep yourself isolated forever. 

6. Have a nice snack or meal. Am I saying it’s a stress reliever to develop an eating disorder? No. Am I saying it’s nice to have a little snack or treat while you’re going through some sad times? Yep.

7. Start planning out fun things to do after you overcome whatever it is that’s stressing you out. Giving yourself things to look forward to goes hand in hand with drive and determination to get ‘er done. Plan to hang with friends, see a movie, treat yourself to a nice little vacation in your bedroom, treat yourself to a nice large vacation in Venice, treat yourself to pizza hut. Whatever it is that excites you or makes you feel the most comfortable and at ease. 

8. Find silver linings in whatever it is that’s stressing you out. it’s easy to see all the negatives in stress factors, and in all honesty, some may seem completely deprived of any usefulness whatsoever. However, you can usually find some positives in those stress factors, even the worst of them. The positives in biology notes? I get to learn about how viruses replicate, and come out with a decent grade for the class. Obviously, some things that cause stress can have way more positives. Maybe you’re stressed because you’re thinking about asking somebody out. The stress is probably coming from lack of experience with rejection, dating, or doing relationship-related stuff. That’s cool. What are the positives though? You could potentially fall in love, have someone to unload and relate to, have someone to make great memories with and more. With things that are stressing you out, you have to try and make them seem more attractive (in a metaphorical sense).

9. One thing at a time. People have a tendency of thinking too far into the future. The future can be a pretty stressful thought. You can try and find those silver linings and positives in it too, but don’t linger on it for that long. You’ll go nuts. Take it easy. This one is probably one of the best techniques that I’m still really working on. 

10. Try not to overdo it. This isn’t me saying to avoid potentially big opportunities in life, because those can be stressful too, I’m just trying to say that you have to get to know your limitations. A person can only take so much at once. Try and space out the things you want to do.

And with that, those are my 10 ways to help you avoid stress. Every single tip I wrote here are things that I’ve used, use, and will continue to use. I didn’t want to write things that I haven’t tried or have had experience with, as it would feel disingenuous. Hope these can help you out. 

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 10x09: “The Things We Left Behind”

The prophetic nightmare.

Pontiac, Illinois.

Our second Wayward Girl, introduced similarly like Alex.

“Get your hands off me, perv. I’ll sue your ass.” With what lawyer?

“Your father’s here to see you.”

The hope in Claire’s eyes when she hears it’s her father...when she sees Cas...

“I’m not your father.” Still so painful to see that spark die in her eyes.

“My dad … Is he still in there?”

“No. The human soul, it can only occupy a body while it retains a certain … structural integrity, and this vessel, it was … It was ripped apart on a subatomic level by an archangel.”

“Well, then how are you …?”

“I was reassembled. Your father is in Heaven.”

Jimmy’s officially dead.

“Where is your mother?”

“About a few months after you … She took off. Dropped me off at my grandma’s and went to go ‘find herself.’ I guess she’s still looking.”

That’s for another episode.

The intro of Cas’ new tie.

Claire fixing Cas’ tie is rather cute.

The Jimmy Novak voice!

“You vanish, for years. No contact, not even a Christmas card. Why come back now?”

“I, um … I didn’t, uh … I was traveling.”

“For work.”

“Work. Yes.”

They didn’t think this through.

“I … uh … I fight certain deadly threats to humanity.”

“He’s an exterminator.”

“I’m an exterminator.”

Cas is almost incapable of lying on the spot, omg.

“You know, I think I might have bedbugs. Any tips?”

“Of course. You should sleep tight and not let them bite.”

So cute.

“I’m denying your application for custody. I’m not trying to be the bad guy here. I’m not. But until Claire turns eighteen, she is my responsibility. I know you’re trying to do what you think is best. I know you want to be her friend.”

“I do.”

“And that’s our problem, Mr. Novak. Claire’s troubled. The last few years have not been easy for her. And she doesn’t need a friend; she needs a father.”

A very good point.

It’s cute to see Dean laugh...but I can hear how forced it is.

Sam made him a grilled cheese sandwich. 

*Cas knocks a guard out.*

“Is he...?”

“He’s sleeping.”

Can’t wait to see that paralleled again in S13 with Jack and Kaia.

Rowena. Not looking too good for her.

“The Castiel I met? He was crappy. Like super stuck-up and a dick and you just wanted to punch him in his stupid angel face.” I semi-disagree. He’s better now, but I didn’t mind him back then.

“Before, I was very self-assured. I was convinced I was on this righteous path. Now I realize that there is no righteous path. It’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it’s far too easy to do your worst.” Cas is so inspirational.

Claire picked his pocket there.

Damn it.

“This is why you called us? THIS is your emergency?” 

“Yes!”

“No, Cas! An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or—or a wigged-out angel, or the Apocalypse, take three.” 

HE’S YOUR FRIEND, HELP HIM OUT.

“Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That’s … that’s every Friday night for Sam.” lmao

“This isn’t just ‘some chick.’ I’m responsible for her.”

“Since when? You met her once, how many years ago?”

Twice, 6 years ago. Not to mention he possessed her for a bit.

LUNCH DATE LUNCH DATE LUNCH DATE!!!!

“So you’re having a midlife crisis.”

“Well, I’m extremely old. I think I’m entitled.”

I love the faraway look in Cas’ eyes when he says that.

“Cas, listen to me. There’s some stuff you just got to let go. Okay? The people you let down, the ones you can’t save … You got to forget about them. For your own good.”

“Is that what you do?”

“That’s the opposite of what I do. But I ain’t exactly a role model.”

“That’s not true.”

There’s so much love and admiration in Cas’ eyes when he looks at Dean. I can not.

“How are you, Dean?”

“I’m fine.”

Cas sees right through him. 

“Cas, I need you to promise me something.”

“Of course.”

“If I do go dark side, you got to take me out.”

On a date.

“Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever. And don’t let Sam get in the way, because he’ll try.” Did you really think Cas would stay true to that promise???

“That won’t work.”

“I didn’t ask you, Braveheart.”

“’Freedom!’”

I love that Rowena runs with the “Braveheart” insult.

“She was a HORRIBLE mother! Did I tell you the time she almost traded me for three pigs? THREE! I was an attractive child. I could juggle. I was worth five pigs, at least.” lol. Gotta love that self esteem.

“And don’t get me started about the name. ‘Fergus.’ It sounds like a venereal disease, and not the fun kind.” Are there any “fun” kinds???

“Claire’s a good kid, detective. She’s smart, and underneath it all, she has a big heart.” True. I’m sure Jody would agree.

Dustin Tate. Claire’s friend.

Randy. You shady bastard.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have borrowed so much money. But, uh… The holidays are coming, and I like to spoil my kids.” I’m ~sure~ that’s what you used your money for.

“Kinda thought you were gonna … steal enough to pay down the debt, like we talked about. But, uh…”

“I tried.”

“Not hard enough.”

What kind of slimy manipulation???

Wiener Hut.

Bad cop Cas steps in.

Pftt, Dean. 

“Wait ‘til you’re alone, then you hit that register jockey hard. You put the fear of God into him, you understand?” I doubt Claire could’ve done that. (Maybe now, but certainly not then.)

Cas steps in, again.

“Eat me, Hasselhoff.”

“Claire, hold on a second. Look, my name’s—”

“Sam. And you’re Dean. We’ve met, remember?”

She remembers them, despite having minimal interaction with them.

“Claire. You were going to rob that convenience store?”

“So?”

“‘So?’ So … it’s—it’s wrong!”

Cas put on his Dad voice there.

“You killed my dad.” Technically that was either Raphael or Lucifer, depending on which sub-atomic destroying of the body Cas was referring to when he told Claire that her dad was dead.

When Claire can’t (physically) hurt Cas, she knew that hurting Sam or Dean was the next closest thing. 

“I used to pray to you, Castiel. Every night. I would beg you to bring him home safe.”

“I know.”

OOOHHHH THE PARALLELS.

“Claire, that man is using you.”

“He was there for me. When things got bad—and they got REAL damn bad—he was there when no one else was.”

That’s manipulation, hon.

“You can go to hell.” Been there, done that.

“As I remember it, you said I would die in a gutter, covered in my own sick.“ Didn’t that happen?

“How did you die?” She did take an interest in how he died.

“I didn’t even have a father!”

“Of course you had a father! You were just conceived during a winter solstice orgy, and it’s not like I was taking names.”

OH MY GOD.

“I understand you’re angry. I understand you … hate me. And if you want to keep me locked away, then so be it. But understand that I’ll always be your mother. And I’ll always love you.” I’m honestly not sure how much I can believe this. Knowing how devastated she is now that Crowley’s dead...

“Quiet Village” by Martin Denny.

Team Free Will bar scene!

“Cas, don’t beat yourself up, man. Claire was …”

“Right. She was right. Who am I to tell her how to live her life?”

“Well, somebody needs to. It’s not like we’re talking about Mother Teresa here. The girl just about knocked over a Gas n Sip. She’s got issues.”

“Because of me.”

“Well, you are wearing her old man’s meat suit. Probably didn’t help.”

Yeah, Dean’s right.

Father talk.

“Did you love your father?” A rather loaded question for some in the show/fandom.

“Tell him about that time in New York.”

“Oh yeah. Yeah, okay. So, uh … We were working this haunting in Long Island, and me and Sam begged the old man to let us go to the city for once.”

“He had this thing about New York, right? Too big, too loud, too dirty.”

“Yeah, and he hated the Yankees.”

“Big time.”

“Somehow, we convince him to let us go. So, we all go. We all, you know, see all the sights, and uh, ride the subway, eat too much pizza. The whole nine. Well, by about midnight, Sam and Dad are zonked, and I figure… Screw it. I’m going to CBGB.”

“So CBGB is --”

“I know. It’s where The Ramones and Blondie got their start.”

Cas spouting music trivia. s w o o n.

“Anyways, he was WAY underage at the time.”

“All right, so I get there. I sneak in, and it is nuts. I mean, people are drinking and they’re smoking and they’re—they’re snorting whatever. There’s a five-hundred pound guy on stage with a Mohawk just screaming. And, uh, my mind is blown. I don’t even know what to do. Then this girls walks up and she says ‘Hey, why don’t you come over and sit down with me and my friends at our table?’ All right!”

“Yeah, and they get him drunk. First time.”

“But not fun drunk. I’m not quite sure what was in that stuff, but the room starts to spin, and I feel like I’m going to puke … forever. And right about that time, I hear him. ‘Dean Winchester!’ My old man. I don’t know how, but he found me.”  

I’m guessing John knew Dean would go to CBGB.

“And now I’m really freaking out, because he’s just standing there, not saying anything. I look around, and everybody else is freaking out, too. In fact, nobody’s even looking him in the eye. And finally, this one guy with, like, a safety pin through his nose and a—a ‘Kill Everything’ tattoo looks up and he says, ‘Sorry, sir.’ 

Yeah. ‘Sorry, sir.’ To John friggin’ Winchester.”

I love that story.

“He saved you.”

“Yeah, and you know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around and he looked at me and he said, ‘Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine.’”

“’It’s my job to raise you right.’”

For what I can say about John Winchester...i can say he raised Sam and Dean right. Even through questionable means...

“Guns blazing, huh? That was your plan?” Just like Dean.

“Last few months, you’ve lost a bundle on the ponies. How much do you owe me now?”

“Five thousand.”

HOW WAS CLAIRE, OR ANYBODY, GOING TO GET THAT CASH IN ONE NIGHT FROM STEALING FROM A GAS N’ SIP?! I could tear Randy’s head off for being such a scumbag.

“I know the con, all right? You find some kid with Major League daddy issues and then get her to steal for you. Cut the proud papa act. I’ll make you a good deal.”

“Like I said, Claire’s family. So it better be a damn good deal.”

*angry screeching*

RIP Gerald. Killed by Crowley.

Rowena’s plan worked. Hot diggity damn.

“Rowena? You said that if I lied, you’d get me out of here.”

“Oh, and I will, darling. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Oooohhhh, just like she did Crowley/Fergus.

I know nothing happens to Claire here, but i get the worst vibes ESPECIALLY WHEN HE LOCKS THE DOOR.

NO NO NO, LET HER.

Damn it, Sam. You should’ve stayed with Dean.

Oh god. It’s happening.

How fucking quickly did he kill them???

RIP men in the house. Killed by Dean.

Poor Claire. That’s traumatizing.

“Tell me you had to do this.”

“I didn’t … I didn’t mean to.”

“No. Tell me it was them or you!”

Sam...trying so hard to hold it together.

Even Cas is horrified...he knows this is the breaking point Dean told him about. He knows the promise he made to Dean. And now he knows that he may just have to kill him.

[topicprinter]

Hey /r/Entrepreneur! Its Rich, maker of Failory, a website where I weekly interview entrepreneurs (failed and successful ones). Today we published an interview with Bruno, the CEO of Trackin, a startup that releases technology for companies to start a food delivery business. He rapidly built the MVP, acquired $25,000 from the 3 best French entrepreneurs, and started with different marketing campaigns. Today, Tracking is making +$167,000/month!Here are the main points:Idea: Bruno was CTO of a catering company and found one of their main pain points was the delivery and finding out where the food was.Development: They spent a few months building an MVP.Marketing: Online marketing (SEO, AdWords, blog, content creation), direct sales and product growth.Mistakes: Bruno has commited huge mistake when hiring the team.Revenue: $167,000/monthProfit: They became profitable two years ago. But Bruno reinvests everything in the business so in that sense there is no actual profit. Learn from idea to monetization, including mistakes and obstacles, how did he achieve it!Hi Bruno! What's your background, and what are you currently working on?Hi Failory!I have a master degree in Computer Science, and I’ve learned how to code and use computers when I was 12. I released my first website when I was 14 years old. At that time XHTML was fancy and JavaScript was the ENEMY. I was also leading a couple of video game teams that were at the top of the French scene.Even though I’m a ‘tech guy’, I’ve also always been a people person, which allowed me to build products while creating direct relationships with people who needed them and acquire skills that some techies might not have.I’m currently the CEO of Trackin, which has released the technology for any company to start a food delivery business within a day, and MobyDish, which is our main focus today. MobyDish is a full-catering online service for companies of 10 to 1000+ people. What's your backstory and how did you come up with the idea?I’ve always been an entrepreneur. As a kid, I was a student of a private school, and hanging out with kids that received money from their parents. In order to have the same level of life than them and not be left behind, I would find out what students would need, and just make it happen!Before my work on Trackin, I was CTO of another catering company. One of our main pain points was the delivery and find out where the food was. It really makes you look bad to not be able to answer such question when the order size is worth $1k+. I quickly realized that it was a worldwide problem. Even the big brands like Pizza Hut didn’t know what was going on with their drivers as soon as they left a restaurant. I looked up online and didn’t find any technology to streamline deliveries, so I just went ahead, quit my job, my visa, my girlfriend, and life in San Francisco. I went back to France and started to work on the tech!Then long story short, I showed it around the world to different restaurants after a few months and an MVP, then I launched it, got some interesting growth and joined Y-Combinator.Being half French and half Italian, I really care about food, and I couldn’t keep seeing people having bad experiences towards it. It definitely made sense to come up with technology so that people stop being scared to order food online and wait for hours without any news from the restaurant.Also, as a people person, I do care a lot about user experience and making people happy. With MobyDish, it is the perfect opportunity to have a huge impact on the food space and to connect people together, the right way.The idea is not just to feed people but to create such a great and easy experience, that we’ll democratize catering like Airbnb democratized renting apartments from individuals, globally. How did you build Trackin?I will always remember the first days working on Trackin. Looking for the right name, right domain, right design. I spent about 3 days working of the first version on the logo, and my computer crashed...my work on Photoshop was all gone before I got a chance to save it...Worst day of my life at that time, and first lesson learned...Save your work ALL THE TIME.I pitched the idea to a few people and a friend decided to join the journey as a backend engineer/DevOps while I’d take care of the rest.After a few months building the MVP, I’ve traveled to meet with restaurants, collect data and improve our tech and features. The first time I tried to show the product to restaurants, I was petrified. I felt like my baby, ideas and product were about to be judged for the first time. Fortunately, people liked it.Then, in order to scale, I needed to find money to hire some people. We won some French national contests, got money from the government, loans, banks, and other European awards that gave us enough to hire people.Unfortunately, my friend decided to leave the startup to focus on his full-time job instead of Trackin.With all the excitement around us and my knowledge of the food space, I decided to take over his role as well and kept working on Trackin as a solo founder. After six months of improvements, and a couple of press release, I closed our first paying customer (which wasn’t even a restaurant but an alcohol delivery company at night) and things became real. I officially incorporated the company and hired interns to get things going. Dealing with inquiries, marketing, and sales.The first version looked okay, but pretty bad for my current standard, and the new generation of employees was able to use it pretty easily. I’ve always enjoyed showing the product to someone and just stare at how the person would interact with it, where he would struggle, what kind of questions he would have...at that time there weren’t yet online tools to record the online experience and stream it back at you ;)I will always remember how I was answering to calls from my first customers at 2 am. I would be pushing code and new Android apps based on their problems the minute we’d hang up to keep them happy (like connectivity issues, UX, etc.).Our first pricing model was to charge per driver tracked on the platform, kind of salesforce charges for number of seats, but it didn’t make sense for restaurants. Then we decided to charge per deliveries. We felt like it was easier to convert restaurants this way because if they were just launching or were small, we were helping them grow faster, at a lower cost. If they were already established, they would pay more because they use us more and would improve their service, brand, and efficiency.When I’ve started, I knew nothing about sales processes, but I’ve learned by talking to people with more experience than me. Then I started to execute. We grew 10x in 4 months and I got lucky enough to sit down with Michael Seibel in my city (Lyon, France). After having dinner with him and sharing my story, he invited me to apply to YC.I didn’t think twice to jump on the opportunity, rented a house in San Jose, left my life in France, sold my furniture, gave up on my lease, prepared my employees, and moved back to California...Then I went through the program, learned a ton, fundraised enough to survive and then started to work on MobyDish. Which were your marketing strategies to grow your business?I’d say there are not many secrets to growth. Combining techniques and doing it the right way by paying attention to details and knowing what you do is key.I’ve always been good at multitasking, and quick growth, to me, means combining many channels, then focus on the ones that work for your business.My main idea though as always trying to create a strong brand, and it has a lot to do with growth. People need to be emotionally attached to what I create. Long term, it decreases marketing costs, increases retention and organic growth.Online Marketing (SEO, Adwords, Blog, Content creation)Find out who your target is, what keywords they’re looking for when they have the pain points you’re trying to solve.Address these pain points through blog articles, short sentences for SEO and ads, etc. Establish your credibility by sending these in newsletters or on social media.Direct sales:Almost everything can be automated or outsourced nowadays. But when I started I did learn by doing all of it myself. Although I hadn’t realized how important it was to start with a good list of leads. Talking to salespeople I quickly came up with ideas on how to automate SDR, Follow up and Sales pitch.Constant email tweaks, A/B testing and looking at opening rates/conversion rate is key.Product growth:Just think about ways your users can recommend you or add gamification for stickiness and make your users feel great about your product. Then when you make them feel great, invite them to talk about your product to someone else! I always use the Candy crush example. People love playing it because they feel great about themselves when they’re playing it. It’s fairly easy but challenging sometimes, and most and foremost, you get animations and congratulations for almost everything you’re doing. The game keeps praising your actions!I also like to make others laugh or feel good about themselves so the notifications in Trackin are pretty funny and different from what you would read in standard SAAS.Getting a sense of self-improvement, especially regarding sales was amazing. Finding the right introductory sentence to get to talk to a manager and by-pass employees, being aware of what to answer based on questions, being able to read people concerns, see their reactions to the features we knew they would love...were all great feelings.Today with MobyDish, I love to hear customers from Silicon Valley (used to deal with the best products) how they enjoy working with us VS companies like Doordash, Caviar or others. Because these companies have raised millions and are hundreds, when we’re super small, profitable and mainly backed by angels, and still being the company they like most. Another funny fact is that some of the biggest VCs in Silicon Valley that have invested in these food companies, are using MobyDish to feed themselves :) What were the biggest challenges you faced and obstacles you overcame?Deciding to leave the life I’ve built in San Francisco to start Trackin was already a big step. I am an entrepreneur and wanted to get back to that life, but this time it meant giving up on a visa, job, life, friends, cheap place etc.Then getting back to France, it was hard for people to understand my ambitions, I kept hearing that I should start “slowly and not aim too high and slow down on international expansion”Follow your guts when you hear people telling you that it’s not the right thing to do and how to approach things is tough, because some people will be right about some aspects of your business, but some people will be wrong...so how do you know which one to listen to?Deciding to keep working on this adventure alone was another big challenge, and it has been since then. Getting into YC, talking to investors, managing your company...you are expected to do as well as other companies, even though you’re alone. I’ll always remember Michael Seibel during the program explaining to the batch how solo founders are supposed to be “superheroes” because expectations are at least the same and nobody will help out. Although I feel very fortunate, because looking back, I have learned so much about everything related to creating and growing a business: management, sales, hiring, marketing, accounting, technology, customer support, scalability, fundraising etc. There are days I wish I had more time to be a normal CEO, but overall, it’s a huge chance to be able to lead a growing company by yourself, because the amount of new skills you get is extremely valuable and will help you not only in your business life but also in your personal life. Everything becomes so easy!The last biggest challenge I had to face was being in the food space. We came late in the game and humans are not really objectives...After some bad investments were made, and after some companies failed, (mainly because of lack of business models and leadership), food suddenly became a ‘bad’ market. Which forced me to build a business sustainable and profitable right away instead of taking the VC shortcut.But at the end of the day, it made us stronger and we have solid foundations to scale! Which are your greatest disadvantages?I guess my last paragraph above answers this question.Being a solo founder, in the food space in the most expensive city of the world is not ‘ideal’ facing some of the most founded companies in that space.Luckily for us, things are doing great! :) During the process of building & growing Trackin, which were the worst mistakes you committed?I’ve made huge hiring mistakes, multiple times, always ended well though, because I don’t think like you win anything by fighting with people for your ego. And I kept people for too long in the team when I knew they weren’t performing.We also made mistakes regarding our first targets with Trackin: we wanted to build the product for chains, but started talking to small businesses, so developed features based on their feedback, then realized chains were making more sense as target, but needed different features and had longer sales cycles. After trying to sell to chains and talking to experimented investors, I realized that to build a solid business I should sell to small businesses. A lot of them. Chains would ask for custom features and would take tons of time to make decisions, payments etc. Plus, they would represent a high percentage of your revenue and losing one of them could be meaning laying of people.Another mistake I’ve made was spending too much time to get money from government, loans, and contests. This is honestly all bullshit. It’s not because you’re winning contests that customers will show up, love your product and pay you. Contests are only good to have press articles and to get some credibility but it’s not a long-term strategy. This is still a common mistake made by entrepreneurs. The money helped me start hiring people, but the paperwork needed for it and still needed today wasn’t worth it.Keeping people too long in your team when you know they are creating problems or not performing the way you want is also a big mistake. I’ve tried to help and change too many people, at some point you can’t help everybody and need to hire people that will bring great things since day 1, especially in a startup. Then in a big corporation, you can do the opposite.Last but not least, as a co-founder of a company before Trackin, I’ve built the product with my engineers and my CEO without actually talking to the market. We thought we knew what people wanted when we actually didn’t.We spent almost a year building a product that didn’t make any sense to the market we targeted and closed almost as soon after we “launched”. Apart from mistakes, what are other sources of learning you would recommend for entrepreneurs who are just starting?I think that learning from books is a great start, although it’s not always easy to remember everything and apply it in your life. If the book tells you to do one thing when a situation shows up, and if your emotions are taking over your brain or you just simply can’t remember what it was, then you’ll make the same mistakes again. Having some kind of routine to digest new lessons learned and what to do based on a specific situation is very important.I like to plan ahead and have a vision of what I want to do with my company long term, but it’s also very important to set shorter term goals, that will take you there and try to reach them. You’ll face new challenges that you will have to solve. Being highly focused on solving these problems one at a time, one after another and cut the distractions, will allow you to reach your main goal, then the next one and so on.As you’re facing these problems, you can then look for answers in books or ask people that have been through similar issues.Then looking back, you’ll realize how far you’ve gone.You can get to smart people from networks of entrepreneurs, incubators, alumnis of your school, or just shoot an email to someone you really want to talk to. Explain why you’re asking for his/her help. Entrepreneurs who started from scratch usually enjoy sharing their knowledge and experiences. Where can we go to learn more?You can learn more about Mobydish here. You can visit Tracking here, but we’re not accepting new customers at the moment. And one day, I’ll have time again to share all my knowledge on my website! Original interview published at https://www.failory.com/mistakes/trackin

[swordarkeereon]

Guest Post: A Kingdom's Fall #horror #newreleases #newfiction

Author Interview

What genre(s) do you write and why?

My work resides in the horror realm and all its subgenres. A gross-out gag, splatterpunk shock, or spine-tingling chill makes us remember we’re alive. And knowing my work makes some people’s genitalia retract into their innards gives me wood.

What was the most difficult part of writing your most recent book?

Finding time to write the third book in The Human-Undead War trilogy proved a chore. I had to decline offers for short story contributions, deny requests to beta read and edit fellow writers’ work, ignore submission calls, and limit my social media presence for about 8 months. With my wife back in school full-time and unpredictable daily work hours at my day job, I was lucky to scrape by with 30 minutes a day for writing. It drove me to the brink of madness!

What do you feel your books offer readers?

An intriguing escape from reality, and a fresh take on vampires. Anyone tired of pussy-ass, sparkly vamps ought to see merit in The Human-Undead War series. I’d love to think I’m revitalizing the genre like Brian Lumley did with his Necroscope series, but sales and exposure beg to differ. Some day, perhaps…

What was the first book you ever had published? How much time did it take from writing your first book to having it published?

The first book was Dark Intentions, Book 1 in The Human-Undead War Trilogy. From concept to publication, it took approximately 8 years. That included some snags in the publishing process (infamous “kerfuffles”) which set me back almost 2 years.

What other careers have you had?

I’ve been a paper boy, grocery bagger, a fast food cook/cashier, pot dealer, phone operator for a taxi company and multiple telemarketing gigs, gas station attendant, obsessive plasma donor, pizza delivery driver, warehouse laborer, and I’ve held management positions at multiple businesses, including my current employer.

Many won’t admit this, but pizza delivery can be quite lucrative. I miss that cash-in-hand every night, and the crazy fucks you meet along the way are great story fodder.

How would you describe yourself if you were “speed dating” your readers?

A chubby bald guy who’s rough around the edges, likes to tease and titillate, and has a dark sense of humor.

Where are you from?

♪In northeastern Iowa, born and raised,

On the farmland is where I spent most of my days…♪

Okay, I’ll stop now. The tune’s stuck in your noggin now, though, isn’t it?

What do you do for fun?

Fun? Sorry, I don’t understand this foreign word. Please translate.

Has your life changed significantly since becoming a published writer?

I think I’m poorer now than I was before I started writing for publication! However, my soul has been enriched. I’ve made tons of awesome, supportive writing-minded friends, a few fans, and a few bucks. It makes up for the constant business expenses (books on hand, business cards, advertisements, bookmarks, contests).

Otherwise, no, not much has changed. I’m still just an introvert peon working for The Man.

Do you work on one project at a time? Or do you multi-task?

I must stay focused on one thing at a time. Multi-tasking often results in more white hairs cropping up on my chin and me needing several Snickers bars to calm the fuck down.

What kind of kid were you? Which social path did you take?

In grade school, I was the fat kid who compensated with comedy, but I was a loner outside of school. I lived on a farm, and even with siblings, I could often be found roaming our land alone, talking to myself and acting out scenes in my head. I usually had my nose crammed into a book’s delicious-smelling spine as well. Once I hit middle school, my introvert side kicked into high gear. Since then, I’ve maintained a small group of core friends and tend to avoid large (or popular) groups of people.

Do you have any pets?

Two cats, Tubba and Target, and a wiener, Spot.

If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you travel?

I took a few years of Spanish in high school, and I loved everything about it. Spain seems like a gorgeous, culturally rich place to visit.

Please tell us 5 miscellaneous facts about yourself.

-I’m a huge advocate for literacy and will drop spare change every time I go to The Dollar General.

-I once popped what I thought was an Ecstasy pill only to discover it was a horse tranquilizer. Good times.

-Nothing turns me on more than a clean, spotless home.

-When I awoke in my cell after being arrested for drunk driving a decade ago, every county inmate hassled me for my extreme overnight snoring.

-I once masturbated 13 times in one day.

Please share with us your future projects and upcoming releases.

A Kingdom’s Fall, the conclusion to The Human-Undead War Trilogy, will be out later this year. I’ll also have a story in VS: Extreme, a charity anthology pitting US against UK horror writers. I was in the inaugural VS last year and took home some accolades, so I hope to defend my title in style this year. David Owain Hughes and I are also co-editing an anthology titled Fuck the Rules, and that should be out late this year or early 2018. It’s our way of throwing up the middle finger to rules while still exposing raw talent and crisp, finely tuned stories.

After that, I don’t know. Time to pursue my writing endeavors has been limited and will continue to be for several more years. I may disappear for a bit. But I’ll be back.

Please share any links you would like listed in the Interview. Website, blog, Facebook, Twitter, Patreon, Instagram etc.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/JondrashekAuthor

Twitter: @jondrashek

Website/Blog: www.jondrashek.com

Instagram: @jondrashek

BRIEF AUTHOR BIO:

Jonathan Edward Ondrashek loves to spew word vomit onto the masses. He’s had an array of poetry, reviews, articles, and interviews published in the past decade. His short stories have appeared in the anthologies Fifty Shades of Slay, Rejected for Content 4: Highway to Hell, Crossroads in the Dark II: Urban Legends, and the highly acclaimed VS: US vs UK Horror. The first two books in The Human-Undead War Trilogy, Dark Intentions and Patriarch, debuted in 2016, along with two co-edited horror anthologies: What Goes Around and Man Behind the Mask. If he isn’t working at his day job, reading, or writing, he’s probably drinking beer and making his wife regret marrying a lunatic. Feel free to stalk him on social media. He loves that shit.

A Kingdom’s Fall (The Human-Undead War Trilogy, Volume 3)

After staking his claim as the rightful Undead patriarch and returning to the United States, Barnaby has sent his followers on missions to eradicate humankind once and for all. He still plots to cast the world into darkness and reign supreme. But to ensure the Undead’s ascent to godhood, he will need to destroy the Human Army and confront his nemesis, Brian Koltz.

However, President Strajowskie understands the stakes involved, and he’s heading to the front line to go all out against Barnaby and his hordes.

Meanwhile, an insurgent army led by the former Undead general, Scott Hammers, approaches Haven. Brian and his people are prepared, but he discovers a traitor in their midst and dark deeds being done against his knowledge. Can he and Haven survive the ensuing battle without being torn apart from within?

As all sides vie for victory, a confrontation between Brian and Barnaby appears inevitable. And both now understand one kingdom must fall if the other is to survive.

BOOK EXCERPT:

“You’re a pilot?” the woman asked.

Lester blushed and ran a hand through his red curls. “Yeah.”

She stared at the center of her shoddy table. Candlelight flickered. Dark bags beneath her eyes devoured her high, protruding cheekbones. “Scar told us wasn’t none of them left,” she said with a slow honey-dipped drawl. “Said no one took to the skies anymore. That’s why he was sailing ‘cross water, before his ship wrecked.”

Lester almost snorted but held his derision in check. Barnaby sure did choose a lame nickname while he was here. He found it unnerving how the Vampirons revered such a devil. Then again, they didn’t know what he was.

Hell, even God doesn’t know what he is.

“Very few still exist,” Roterie said. He meandered away from the humble open-spaced kitchen and plopped onto the chair opposite Mrs. Deekins. He rested his hands behind his head and kicked his feet up. Dirt and sand sprinkled down from the soles of his shoes and cascaded across the table. “That’s why your husband was wise to follow Scar and find us.”

“Well, I can’t thank you enough for coming here and telling me how Zeke’s doing. Me and the kids’ve been worried sick.”

It shows, Lester thought. Mrs. Deekins was bone-thin, though canned goods and somewhat-fresh fruits lined the makeshift countertops inside the kitchen. Grime caked her skin in an oily sheen. Bloodshot, yellowed eyes protruded from their sockets, and her fake fangs jutted out below her upper lip. With thin, frayed hair sticking out at every angle atop her scalp, she looked like a buck-toothed, emaciated vampire hippie.

And the stench was horrendous. The quaint mud hut reeked of rotten eggs, spoiled milk, and decaying meat. Worse still was Mrs. Deekins herself. Even from the front doorway, he could smell the layers of sweat, shit, and piss emanating from her body in sickening droves.

That reminds me. It’s been a week or two since I took a bath, Lester thought, avoiding the urge to sniff his armpits and test his own scent.