#one call screening alberta

[wannabehockeygf]

Snow's Falling - Matthew Tkachuk

So... I did a thing, and I wrote an entire Tkachuk mini-fic instead of working on my other WIPS (sorry LOL) Word Count: 10k

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x fem! reader

Tags: Fluff, texting, self-discovery, don't know what else

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Notes: This takes place a few years back, when he was still on the flames (alberta girl by heart I couldn't bring myself to write about Florida), I'm gonna say it's around 2020-2021 (ignoring covid ofc). This was going to be smutty but I decided against it halfway through writing. (***) is kind of like a chapter/long time skip, (---) short time skip. AND LETS JUST IGNORE HIS BIRTHDAY IS ACTUALLY THE SECOND WEEK OF DECEMBER! THIS IS NOT PROOF READ! My eyes hurt so just lmk if something is wrong. Also it might be repetitive because this is basically just an idea dump lol.

ratthew grow that hair out again I’m begging

***

CALGARY, ALBERTA was the best city in Canada - to you, anyway. Close to every time someone said that you were wrong, you defended it with your entire heart and soul, as if your life depended on it. You knew that the negative forty winters would always be outshined by the sheer atmosphere of the city, the people, the everything.

This was your hometown, after all. And to you, absolutely nothing would have beaten it.

That was until a couple of weeks ago, a gloomy early November afternoon when the first snow of the year had just started falling, and you were laying down on your plush leather couch in your loft apartment. The dim light from the overcast sky filtered through the large glass windows, casting a soft, grayish hue over the room. The warmth from your latte radiated through the ceramic mug, the sensation slightly burning the tips of your fingers. You had your laptop propped on your lap as you reviewed a slideshow from your last lecture, the glow of the screen reflecting off your eyes. The soft hum of the city’s afternoon rush filled the room, a symphony of distant car engines and muffled conversations.

You momentarily turned your head to the large glass sliding door leading to your balcony, watching the snowflakes fall gently, each one a unique crystal dancing its way to the ground. Winter was here, and it wouldn’t be long before you would have to trade in your baseball caps and leggings for jeans and beanies. The thought of it brought a small, nostalgic smile to your face as you envisioned snow-covered streets and the festive lights that would soon adorn the city.

Your phone suddenly started ringing, snapping you out of the magical, snowy trance you were stuck in. The ringtone pierced the tranquil atmosphere, making you jump slightly. You reached for it, your nicely manicured nails clacking against the screen as you swiped right to accept the call. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you asked, your eyes now focused on your laptop screen again, though your mind was still partially lost in the falling snow outside.

“Hey,” your boyfriend’s voice came through, clearly deflated and even slightly shaky, “Can we talk?”

You immediately sat up, propping up your back with a pillow as you put your latte on the coffee table. The warmth from the mug lingered on your fingertips. “Of course, what’s up?” you replied, concern whirling within you.

Your boyfriend sighed, a sound heavy with unspoken words. “I don’t even know how to say this, but… um, we need to break up.”

The words hit you like a blizzard, much like the one outside, but this one was much worse. You felt as if the ground beneath you had disappeared, leaving you to float in a surreal void. “Wait, what?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why? What happened?”

“I just… I don’t think this is working anymore,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I think it’s best if we both move on.”

Your mind raced as you tried to process his words. You thought back to the times you’d shared together, the laughs, the arguments, the moments that had defined your relationship. It was as if the day you met on the University of Calgary campus a year ago was just yesterday, and it didn’t make sense. How had it come to this?

“Is there someone else?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

“No, it’s not that,” he replied quickly. “It’s just… I’ve changed. We’ve changed. I think we’re both heading in different directions.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously, unwilling to let them fall. “But I love you,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I know,” he said softly. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

The line went silent for a moment, and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears, so hard it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, as you’d never felt pain like that before.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I really am. I hope we can still be friends.”

You knew those words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain worse. “Yeah,” you said, forcing the word out. “Me too.”

You hung up the phone, your hands shaking. The laptop screen in front of you blurred as tears filled your eyes. You leaned back against the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest as sobs wracked your body, completely and utterly. But the noise outside continued, oblivious to your personal storm.

Calgary wouldn’t stop moving, no matter what happened to you. ***

1 month later

Your thumb rolls against the lighter, the spark flaring up in the dim room as you ignite it, tipping a holly berry-scented candle toward the flame until the wick begins to blacken at the end. The warm, spicy scent fills the air, mingling with the cool night breeze wafting through the open window. The white duvet beneath you crinkles softly as you lean back into the plush comfort of your bed, picking up your phone to scroll mindlessly. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face in the otherwise dark room, casting fleeting shadows as you swipe through various posts.

You come across an Instagram story from a girl you’d met in a campus library a few years back. The story is a screenshot of texts she had exchanged with her ‘number neighbour’—a person whose phone number differs by just one digit. The joke in her story is that her neighbor turned out to be a thirteen-year-old boy, but the concept intrigues you nonetheless.

Despite the nagging voice of reason, you press the messages app. Your thumbs work swiftly, typing your number but with the last digit counted up. The screen's light reflects in your eyes as you lean over to turn on your bedside lamp, casting a warm glow that lights the room halfway. You snap a selfie, making a thumbs-up gesture toward the camera, a half-smile tugging at your lips. You type out a jokey message along with it, and after a brief hesitation, you tap send. Nothing too bad could happen, right?

You: Happy birthday man, hope you had beers on the house! [insert selfie]

After sending the message, you throw your phone across the bed. It lands on the opposite corner with a soft thud. It's already eleven-thirty, and whoever your 'number neighbour' is, if they even respond, probably won’t do so until morning. You shut your eyes, the flickering candle casting dancing shadows on the walls. The room is filled with the comforting scent of holly berry, lulling you closer to sleep, even though you know you’ll have to put the candle out eventually. Exhaustion takes over, and you're seconds away from drifting off.

Until your phone pings.

You jolt awake at the sound, your heart skipping a beat. No way, right? You reach over to your phone, the screen lighting up the dim room. The notification icon indicates a new message, and with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you unlock your phone to see what they said.

???: Haha thanks, didn’t know it was my birthday today!

Attached is a picture of the side of a man’s face, brown curls falling down his forehead glistening with sweat. You can see a gym behind him and a dimple on his cheek as he mirrors your thumbs-up, but nothing else besides half of a blue eye. The photo is taken from an upward angle where you notice he is wearing a muscle shirt, and lord, is he fit.

You: You’re at the gym this late?

???: Hell yeah. Best time, honestly. Knocks me right out when I get home.

You: Fair enough, guess we’re both night owls.

???: Guess so.

You let the text sit for a while, unsure how to respond, but to your surprise, another text comes through five minutes later.

???: So, who am I talking to?

You stare at the screen, debating whether to reveal your identity or keep the conversation anonymous for a bit longer. There's something intriguing about this mystery man, and a part of you wants to prolong the curiosity. You decide to play along.

You: Your number neighbour. Saw it on someone’s story. You’re not a thirteen-year-old boy, are you?

???: Last time I checked, no. Definitely not a thirteen-year-old boy.

You can't help but chuckle at his response. There’s something about this mystery conversation that feels oddly comforting, a small distraction from the heartbreak that still lingers. You decide to keep the banter going, finding solace in this unexpected connection.

You: Good to know. Would be weird if I was texting a middle schooler.

???: Agreed. So, can I get a name, number neighbour?

You bite your lip, contemplating his request. This playful anonymity has provided a small, thrilling escape from the heartbreak you are still nursing. But something about his confidence, and the hint of charm in his words, makes you want to take the plunge.

You: Maybe... It depends. Are you going to tell me yours first?

There is a pause, and you imagine him standing there in the gym, perhaps wiping sweat from his brow, considering how much to reveal. The anticipation is oddly exhilarating.

???: Fair enough. I'm Matt.

You: Just Matt?

Matt: Well, Matthew, but nobody calls me that unless I'm in trouble.

You chuckle softly, the sound breaking the stillness of your room.

You: Y/N

Matt: I like that name. Suits you.

Matt's reply brings a faint smile to your lips, a small flicker of warmth in the otherwise chilly aftermath of your recent breakup. Though you know you’re young and attractive, allowing yourself to flirt with this random stranger feels like a gift to help heal from the heartbreak.

You: What do you mean by that?

Matt: It’s pretty.

His words strike a chord, echoing a sentiment you haven't felt in a while — someone noticing you beyond the surface, beyond the pain you carry. It’s refreshing, and you find yourself drawn to the conversation more than you expected.

You: You think I’m pretty?

And then you wait for his reply. And wait. And then, wait even more, lying back on your bed, your phone lying beside you as your arms have turned limp, and stay there until your eyelids get too heavy for your own good. ---

The next morning, you wake up with a frown already imprinted on your face. It's probably a bad idea, but getting a bit of attention and then losing it is tough, especially considering your last message. You sit up, the bed frame creaking as you look out the window. It's already the second week of December, and all the roofs visible from your downtown apartment are coated in snow. The Christmas season is starting to kick in, the only thing you can look forward to – you love Christmas.

That night, while lounging around your apartment and revising for your final exams, your phone buzzes. You pounce on it, hoping it's mystery Matt.

Matt: Shit, sorry. Had to finish up last night and was working all day.

You glare at the screen. What a lame excuse, you think. He didn’t even answer your question, and now he's claiming he worked all day. You toss your phone aside, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It works for a bit, but an hour later, another text comes through.

Matt: Wyd?

You roll your eyes, still irritated by his earlier silence. But curiosity and a hint of loneliness get the better of you, and you decide to respond, albeit with a touch of sarcasm.

You: The glamorous life of a student. Studying. What about you?

Matt's response comes almost immediately, as if he's been eagerly waiting.

Matt: Ah, finals season, huh? Not jealous of that.

You sigh, feeling conflicted. You want the attention but are still annoyed by his lack of response. Despite that, you find yourself typing back.

You: Well, good thing it’s not you then.

Matt: I’m sorry?

You: Were you actually at work?

Matt: Yeah? Why would I lie about that?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wants to believe him, to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the other part is wary. Right as you’re about to type a response, a text from Matt comes through, replying to your text from the previous night.

Matt: Is this about this?

You: Sure, but you don’t have to spare my feelings. Come on, just lay it on me. It’s not you, it’s…

Matt: I was going to say yes.

You stare at Matt's message, slightly shocked. Maybe he wasn't ignoring you after all. His response is straightforward, almost vulnerable in a way that makes you pause.

You: Oh. Sorry, I guess I’m just stressed. And maybe a little attention-starved.

Matt: Any reason for that?

You consider how much you want to reveal to Matt. Despite the initial frustration, his directness appeals to you. Maybe it's the honesty or the fact that he seems genuinely interested, unlike your recent ex who struggled with communication.

You: Just dealing with some personal stuff. It's been a rough couple of weeks.

Matt's response is immediate, with a tone of understanding.

Matt: I get that. Breakup?

You pause, surprised at his insight. It's as if he can read between the lines of your texts.

You: Yeah, actually. Sorry for being so standoffish earlier.

Matt: Haha, I’m a strong guy, I can take it. Also, sorry about the breakup. They suck.

Five minutes later, another message comes through.

Matt: Not trying to be weird, but how old are you?

You: 21. You?

Matt: 23. I was just asking because I was going to offer to help you with the attention-starved thing. If you’ll have me?

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to interpret Matt's offer. His straightforwardness is refreshing yet slightly intimidating. But something about his persistence intrigues you. After a brief pause, you decide to play along.

You: Hmm, are you suggesting you're good at providing attention?

Matt: I like to think so. At least, I try.

You can't help but smile at his response. There's a sincerity in his words that feels genuine, a stark contrast to your recent breakup.

You: What do you have in mind?

Matt: Well, I take from earlier that you like being complimented?

Your cheeks burn as his directness now feels endearing rather than abrupt. Despite your initial reservations, his straightforward approach is comforting. You decide to indulge him a bit.

You: Depends.

Matt: I think you have really nice eyes. Not much to go off of, so if I ask real nicely, will you send me more pictures of you?

You pause, considering Matt's request. His boldness is surprising and oddly appealing, especially given your recent emotional rollercoaster. You crave the distraction, the validation, and perhaps a connection that feels less complicated than your recent relationship.

You: Maybe. What do I get in return?

Matt: Compliments. And attention.

You: Wow, charming, aren’t you? Are you always this forward?

Matt: Only when I’m interested. And I’m definitely interested.

His words send a flutter through your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement. You find yourself smiling as you send him a picture of yourself at your birthday party from a few months ago, in a black bodycon dress and a tiara.

A few minutes pass before his response pops up, making your entire body heat up.

Matt: Permission to call you hot?

You laugh at his confidence. Matt's interest feels like a soothing balm for your wounded heart. The combination of his directness and warmth is intriguing, and a part of you wants to see where this could lead.

You: Permission granted.

Matt: You’re hot. Like, seriously. Wish I’d met you sooner.

You: You’re just trying to get into my pants, aren’t you?

Matt: Well, if you’d rather have a normal conversation with you, I will, gladly. But you wanted a distraction, right?

You: Maybe I do.

Matt: Then, how do you prefer to be distracted?

You: You might be on the right track.

Matt: Cool, I think I can handle that.

A few minutes pass before he texts again.

Matt: So… what are you wearing?

You: Seriously?

Matt: Haha, just kidding. Unless… you want to tell me?

You smirk at his cheekiness, feeling a playful spark ignite within you. The conversation has taken an unexpected turn, and the idea of engaging in a flirtatious exchange with Matt is both thrilling and liberating. You decide to play along.

You: Just a sweatshirt and flannel shorts. Nothing special, lol.

Matt: Doesn’t matter if it’s nothing special, bet you still look cute.

You: What about you?

Matt: Just sweatpants. Why? You wanna see?

You: Is there a problem with that?

Matt: Not at all. One sec.

A moment later, your phone buzzes with an incoming picture. You open it to see Matt standing in his bedroom, the camera angled to capture his athletic build. He’s shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing his defined muscles. The dim lighting casts shadows that accentuate his physique. Once again, you don't see his face, but his curls are frizzy and unruly this time.

You don’t respond for a while, simply ogling the photo.

Matt: Cat got your tongue?

You: No.

You start typing an explanation, an excuse, maybe even a confession that you definitely saved that photo, but he beats you.

Matt: Your turn.

You: You want my face or my body?

Matt: Whatever you’re comfortable with, I can work with.

With a deep breath, you angle your phone upwards, hiking up your shorts so the curve of your hip is visible. Your oversized sweater shows nothing, but above are your lips, curved in a small smile, with the frame cutting off right before your nose. The city lights are visible behind you in the window. You snap a photo and quickly send it.

Matt's response is immediate, a single word that makes your pulse quicken.

Matt: Damn.

You feel a surge of satisfaction mixed with nerves. It's exhilarating, this dance of teasing and flirtation, each message building upon the last. You are both exploring new territory, testing boundaries, and reveling in the mutual attraction.

You: Like what you see?

Matt: Very much so. But I want to see more.

Your heart races at his boldness. There's no denying the chemistry between you, the electric tension crackling through the phone screen. You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing with possibilities. Finally, you decide to indulge in the moment, letting go of the hurt from your recent breakup and embracing this new, exciting connection.

You lie down on your bed, holding the phone above you as you pull down your shorts until the waistband is around your hips. You roll up your sweater, exposing part of your torso, and your legs are mostly visible as well, cutting off at your feet. Your fingers tremble slightly as you snap another photo, the dim lighting in your room casting a soft glow over your skin. With a mix of nerves and excitement, you hit send before you can overthink it.

Matt: Fuck. You're stunning.

His response sends a thrill down your spine, a rush of validation and desire mingling with the lingering ache of your recent breakup. Yet, with Matt, it feels different — liberating, even empowering. But, you decide to tease him.

You: Wow, cold. My face isn’t even in that.

Matt: You’re right. Let me see that pretty face.

You decide to give him what he wants. You take another photo, this time showing your face but still with an element of playfulness. You angle the camera to capture a side profile, your sweater slightly off your shoulder, revealing a hint of skin. The soft lighting accentuates your features, and you smile subtly before hitting send.

Matt's reply is almost immediate.

Matt: Beautiful. Seriously. How far do you live from Calgary?

You: I’m in Calgary, actually. Why?

Matt: Me too. And I want you to come over.

You freeze, Matt’s proposition hanging in the air like a charged current. The idea of meeting him in person, after this electrifying exchange, both thrills and intimidates you. It’s a leap into the unknown, a step away from the safe cocoon of your apartment.

You: I don’t even know what you look like. Kind of weird, don’t you think?

Matt: Fair enough, I’ll hold off for now. I gotta bolt now though, early morning tomorrow.

You feel a mix of relief and disappointment at Matt's response. Part of you is grateful for the pause, giving you time to process everything that has just happened. The other part, however, is buzzing with anticipation, wondering what could happen next between you two.

You: Early morning plans? What do you have going on?

Matt: Just work stuff. I’ll text you later, okay?

You: Sure. Good luck with it.

Matt: Thanks. It was fun.

You stare at your phone screen, heart still pounding. Matt’s presence lingers in your room, his image imprinted in your mind. You can’t deny the chemistry, the attraction that crackles between you, but you decide not to respond. You have to keep him on his toes somehow, right? ***

One week later

The floors are sticky, even with your already wet boots from the snow outside against them as you walk into the bar. Some classic country music blasts as cowboy hats are tipped, giant belt buckles are moving, and beers are drunk. Many beers are drunk.

You shove your way through the sea of dancing bodies towards the bar, spotting a single empty worn-out barstool which you happily slide into. This specific bar has line dancing every weekend, but this Friday is their annual Christmas hoedown, which is basically just a fancy name for ‘get drunk in some maybe holiday themed western clothing and dance.’

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of beer, sweat, and a hint of pine from the Christmas decorations strewn about. The bar is a hive of activity, the kind that can either drown out your sorrows or amplify them, depending on your mood. Tonight, you're here for a distraction, and although you're alone, it's a way to escape the emotional rollercoaster that has been your life for the past few weeks.

Sliding onto the barstool, you wave at the bartender, a burly man with a Santa hat perched on his head. "Whiskey sour, please," you call out over the music. He nods and gets to work, mixing your drink with practiced ease.

As you wait, you can't help but scan the room, your eyes landing on groups of people laughing, talking, and dancing. It's comforting in a way, seeing others immersed in their own worlds, each person a small part of the larger tapestry of life. You sip your drink, the sharp tang of whiskey and lemon cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

"Hey there, mind if I join you?" a voice interrupts your musings. You turn to see a man with a friendly smile and an impressively large cowboy hat standing next to you, vaguely recognizing him, but not enough to put your finger on it.

You look the man up and down, not hesitating for long before replying, “You gonna buy me a drink?”

The man chuckles, tipping his hat back slightly to reveal a pair of twinkling blue eyes. "I guess I can manage that," he says with a grin. "What’ll it be?”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised at how easily you slip into the flirtation. "Whiskey sour."

He signals to the bartender, catching his attention immediately. “Another whiskey sour for the lady, and a beer for me.” As you wait, you take in his appearance more closely. He's tall, with broad shoulders and a rugged charm that fits perfectly in the country bar setting.

Soon enough, your drinks arrive, and as the handsome cowboy slides the drink towards you, you're already distracted by the hockey game on the TV. The Oilers are on tonight, and although you're a Calgary native, the Flames never really struck you like Edmonton did.

The cowboy seems to notice your distraction, glancing up at the screen to see what caught your attention. "Hockey fan?" he asks, leaning a bit closer to you, his voice cutting through the loud country music.

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, what about you?” you ask as the cowboy takes a seat beside you.

Handsome Cowboy leans his elbow on the counter, bringing his beer to his lips before meeting your eyes. "You could say I dabble," he offers.

You cock your head, confused but deciding to trudge on. “You got a name?”

The man’s eyes widen as he glances away for a moment, only coming back to meet your gaze with less confidence than he initially had. “Chucky. The name’s Chucky.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking another sip of your drink as you study the man once again. “Chucky? Like that possessed doll?”

Chucky chuckles at your remark, a deep, throaty sound that sends a flutter through your stomach, “Sure, you could say that,” he replies, tapping his fingers on the bar, “Hopefully not as creepy though.”

“Not creepy,” you start, looking back up at the TV, “Just not really my type.”

Chucky clutches his chest dramatically as he laughs, “Ouch, you wound me,” he says before gesturing to the TV, “Well, what if I told you my type isn’t a girl who’s an Oilers fan?”

You purse your lips, turning back to Chucky and crossing your arms. “What’s your type, then?” you question.

"I like a woman who enjoys being spoiled," Chucky says, his voice growing huskier. "Someone who loves the feel of strong hands on her body, who appreciates a man who knows how to treat her right."

You roll your eyes. “What a charmer,” you offer, although you’re stuck staring at him, your heart skipping a beat at his boldness. This conversation is moving fast, yet you find yourself unable to look away. "And you think you're that man?" you ask, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Chucky leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I know I am," he whispers, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "But that's something you'll have to discover for yourself."

He pulls away slightly, his crooked teeth formed into a knowing smile as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. A flush creeps up your neck, your heartbeat quickening. The thrill of the exchange, the hint of danger in his confidence—it's a potent mix, drawing you in despite your better judgment. “How do I find out?” you breathe, your voice shaky.

Chucky's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans back slightly, taking a slow sip of his beer before responding. The noise of the bar fades into the background as his gaze locks onto yours, his expression serious yet playful. “Oh, so I am your type?”

"I didn't say that," you reply with a smirk, keeping your tone light despite the heat rising in your cheeks. "But you seem awfully sure of yourself."

Chucky's smile widens, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans back against the bar, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident. "I've been around long enough to know what I want," he admits, his voice low and gravelly. "And I know how to make sure a pretty girl like you enjoys herself."

Your breath hitches at his words, your heart continuing its erratic rhythm as you look into his eyes. Weirdly enough, you sort of feel a little guilty for replacing the mystery man on your phone, but that doesn’t even begin to overpower the strong attraction you feel for the man in front of you. “Can I take you up on that?” you ask.

Chucky's grin widens, clearly pleased with your response. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "Oh, sweetheart, you've already taken me up on it by sitting here with me." His gaze flickers with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, more intense as if he knows exactly the effect he's having on you.

You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet his intense gaze. The noise of the bar seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of charged anticipation. Chucky reaches out, his hand brushing against yours on the bar top. His touch is electric, sending a jolt of awareness through you. “What d’ya say we dance?”

Your eyes widen as you look at his hand on top of yours, calloused fingertips brushing gentle circles. “I’m not really a good dancer,” you admit, your voice small.

Chucky chuckles softly, his thumb still lightly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. "Don't worry about that, darlin'. Ain't nobody here judging your dancing skills tonight." He leans closer, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Just relax and let me lead."

You think it's weird he's talking like that even though his accent is city-like, but before you can protest or agree, he slides off the barstool with an easy grace, extending his hand towards you. The invitation hangs between you, laden with unspoken promises and the allure of something new and exciting. You hesitate for only a moment, then place your hand in his, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip.

As he leads you onto the dance floor, the crowd seems to part effortlessly, creating a small pocket of space just for the two of you. The music shifts to a slower tempo, a country ballad that echoes through the dimly lit bar. Chucky pulls you close, his other hand settling firmly at the small of your back, guiding you in gentle sways to the rhythm of the song. Despite your initial hesitation, you soon fall into sync with him, allowing yourself to be swept away by the rhythm and the warmth of his presence.

The other dancers around you blur into the background as you focus on Chucky's steady gaze, his blue eyes holding a magnetic intensity that sends a thrill through you. With each sway and turn, the space between you seems to shrink, the attraction between you palpable in the air.

As the song draws to a close, Chucky doesn't release you. Instead, he holds you even closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he whispers softly in your ear. "You're a natural," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You catch your breath at Chucky's whispered compliment, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his closeness. His breath against your ear sends a tingling sensation down your spine, and you can't deny the thrill of being held so intimately by this charming stranger. "Thank you," you manage to murmur back, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the dim lighting and the pulsing music around you, it feels as if there are only the two of you in that moment, cocooned in your own private world.

Chucky's hand remains at the small of your back, his touch reassuring yet tinged with a subtle electricity that seems to ignite every nerve ending in your body. His presence is magnetic, drawing you closer with each passing second, and you find yourself unable to look away from his captivating blue eyes.

"I could dance with you all night," Chucky admits, his voice low and husky. He's about to say something else, only to suddenly stop and reach into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans, pulling out his buzzing phone while keeping an arm snaked around your waist. “Sorry, doll, I’ve gotta take this.”

Before you can protest or even get a word out, he has disappeared into the crowd, and your body is suddenly at a loss for his touch. You stand there for a moment, slightly dazed by Chucky's abrupt departure. The lingering warmth of his touch, his hand on your back, and the intoxicating thrill of the dance still pulse through you, leaving you with a mix of confusion and anticipation.

As you scan the crowded bar, you catch glimpses of familiar faces and strangers alike, each lost in their own conversations and revelries. The music continues to throb in the background, a steady rhythm that seems to echo the beat of your racing heart.

Time passes painfully slow as you wait, and wait, and wait.

Until he doesn’t come back. *** Another week later... It's two days before Christmas, Christmas Eve Eve as you and your family lovingly call it, and you find yourself alone. The cityscape outside your window is already cloaked in a soft blanket of snow, the streetlights casting a golden glow on the flakes as they drift lazily to the ground. It's already eight pm, a time when you'd typically not be alone. However, last year your loved ones decided to take a leap of faith and move an hour out of Calgary, so regular visits aren't really a thing anymore. But you're planning to make the drive out tomorrow and spend the night for Christmas.

You stand in your apartment, the sticky bits on the bottom of your fuzzy socks squeaking against the shiny hardwood floor as you look around the living area. You haven't told anybody yet, but you're moving as soon as your semester ends, transferring to Toronto where you'll finish school and hopefully live a new, better life. Although you love Calgary, lately everything around you radiates hurt. Boxes are strewn around, a messy scrawl in Sharpie on them identifying items from various rooms. The living room, once a cozy haven, now feels like a cardboard maze, each box a reminder of your impending departure.

With a sigh, you open the cabinet above your fridge, taking out a half-empty bottle of rosé that you bought earlier that week. It's a cheap, screw-top bottle, but admittedly you needed it to get you through all the stress of your exams. Now that they're over, you can finish it without worrying about waking up hungover. The bottle feels cool in your hand, a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

You take a wine glass out of a different cabinet and twist the cap once before your phone suddenly buzzes. You grab it, wondering who could be texting you at this time.

Matt: Hey, can I call you?

Your heart skips a beat as you read Matt's message. You've been talking to him non-stop, whether that just be texting, or calling, or sexting - every waking moment, besides when he had his weird work stints, you were talking to him. You hesitate for a moment, glancing around your half-packed apartment, the wine glass in your hand a stark reminder of your current solitude.

You: Sure, give me a sec.

Quickly setting the bottle of rosé and the glass on the counter, you walk over to the couch and settle in. You take a moment to steady your nerves, then press the call button when his name pops up on the screen.

The phone rings only once before he picks up. "Hey," Matt's voice comes through, warm and familiar.

"Hey," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "What are you up to?"

Your eyes dart to the kitchen island where the bottle of wine is waiting, and then around at the chaotic mess of the room before responding, "Nothing in particular. You?"

Matt's chuckle comes through the line, a warm, comforting sound that makes you smile despite the mess around you. "Just chilling. Wanted to check up on you. Need any compliments yet?"

You chuckle softly, feeling warmth spread through you at his playful tone. "Maybe a few wouldn't hurt," you reply, leaning back into the couch and tucking your legs beneath you. "It's been a crazy week."

Matt's voice softens, taking on a teasing tone. "Well, I could start by saying that I still can't get over how gorgeous you looked in that photo you sent me. And if you're half as funny and smart in person as you are over text, then I'm in real trouble."

He pauses, and you hear a slight hum come from him. "Crazy good or crazy bad?" he continues, this time his voice carrying genuine concern.

"A bit of both," you admit, glancing around at the half-packed boxes. "Exams are over, but I'm in the middle of packing up my life. Moving to Toronto next semester."

There's a pause on the other end, and you wonder if you've shared too much too soon. "Wow, that's a big change," Matt finally says. "Why Toronto?"

You sigh, the weight of the decision pressing on you. "I just need a fresh start. Calgary's been... difficult lately. Too many memories, too much heartache. I think a change of scenery will do me good."

"I get that," Matt says softly. "Um, speaking of that, I was gonna ask whereabouts in Calgary you are?"

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "I live near downtown, not too far from the river. Why?"

There's a brief pause on Matt's end, and you can almost hear him thinking. "You free right now?"

Your pulse quickens at Matt's unexpected question. The idea of meeting him in person, after all the teasing texts and late-night conversations, is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "Yeah, I am, why?" you say, wanting to get a little more information out of him.

"Well," he starts, and you hear rustling on his end, "As much as I enjoy this anonymous text-flirting thing we've got going on, I would love to see you in person."

You furrow your eyebrows, wondering if this is going where you think it is. "And… do what?" you ask, deciding to be straightforward with him. "Like, hook up?"

"No!" Matt says quickly, almost panicked. "I-I mean, if you want to, I wouldn't mind," he concedes, his tone softer. "But I had something else in mind."

Your curiosity is piqued, and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear what Matt has in mind. "Oh? And what might that be?" you ask, a smile tugging at your lips.

Matt's voice softens, taking on a tone that is both sincere and slightly hesitant. "You got ice skates?"

You blink in surprise at Matt's question, the unexpected turn catching you off guard. Ice skates? You haven't been ice skating in ages, not since you were a kid. But there's something oddly charming about Matt's suggestion, a whimsical twist in contrast to the flirtatious banter you've shared so far.

"Uh, yeah, I think I have a pair somewhere," you reply, scanning your cluttered apartment mentally to remember where they might be buried. "Why do you ask?"

Matt's voice is shaky, almost nervous as he responds, "Well, I don't know how to convince you that I won't kill you, but I know a nice outdoor rink on the west side."

You find yourself grinning ear-to-ear, even though the concern of him maybe kidnapping you is in the back of your head. "Are you asking me on a date?" you say, your tone giddy from the smile that won't seem to fade off your face.

Matt chuckles nervously on the other end of the line, his voice slightly muffled as if he were pacing or moving around. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admits, his tone laced with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I mean, if you're up for it. Just thought it'd be nice to actually meet in person, you know?"

Your heart flutters at Matt's sincerity, the nervous edge in his voice endearing rather than off-putting. Despite the initial shock of his unexpected request, you find yourself warming to the idea of meeting him face-to-face. "Okay," you agree, "But I'm sharing my location with everyone in my immediate family, just in case you kidnap me."

Matt lets out a nervous huff of air. "And that's completely understandable!" he says, his voice cracking slightly. "I mean, who am I, really? I could totally be…" He trails off, and you hear a thud. "Fuck, you're kidding, aren't you?"

You chuckle softly at Matt's flustered response, finding his nervousness strangely endearing. "Relax, Matt," you reassure him, amusement evident in your voice. "I'm just messing with you. I trust you enough to meet up."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a relieved sigh from Matt. "Okay, good," he replies, his voice steadier now. "I promise I'm not a serial killer or anything. Just a guy who wants to take you ice skating." He pauses, seeming to debate something. "I can… pick you up if you want?"

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the offer in your mind. It's a bold move, letting him pick you up, especially since you haven't even seen his face yet. But something about Matt's voice, his nervous excitement mixed with genuine sincerity, makes you feel oddly reassured.

"Sure," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest. "I'll send you my address."

After exchanging a few more logistical details and promising to text when you're ready, you end the call with Matt. Sitting back on your couch, you stare at your phone for a moment, the reality of what you've just agreed to sinking in. Meeting Matt in person feels like a leap into the unknown, a step away from the safe confines of text messages and phone calls.

With a mix of excitement and nerves, you head to your bedroom to find your ice skates. As you rummage through your closet, you can't help but smile at the thought of what the evening might bring. Ice skating under the stars with Matt—whether it turns out to be magical or not, it's definitely going to be memorable.

Finding your skates buried under a pile of old clothes, you pull them out and place them by the door. You quickly freshen up, change into something warmer, and glance at yourself in the mirror, wondering what Matt will think when he finally sees you in person. Your reflection shows a mix of anticipation and nervousness, your cheeks slightly flushed with the excitement of the evening ahead.

After a deep breath to steady your nerves, you grab your coat and keys and send a quick text to Matt that you're ready. By the time you hear a knock on your door later that evening, you're both nervous and eager. Opening the door, you're greeted by a man. A man with broad shoulders, frizzy brown curls, and dark blue eyes. A man that you've definitely met before.

You look up at him, your eyes wide. “Chucky?” you drawl out, your tone unsure.

Chucky/Matt (?) stands there in the doorway, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The realization slowly dawns on you – Matt is Chucky, the charming cowboy from the bar, the man who whisked you onto the dance floor and left you literally aching for his touch.

Matt shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, his sheepish grin faltering slightly. "Hey," he finally says, his voice a mixture of nerves and apology. "Surprise?"

You blink, trying to process the revelation. "You're Matt?" you ask, the realization sinking in. "You're Chucky?"

Matt nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, look, I probably should’ve been upfront,” he starts, leaning against your doorframe, “But when I saw you at the bar, I couldn’t help keeping the whole mystery thing going.”

You nod slowly, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. Part of you feels a bit betrayed by the secrecy, but another part can't deny the attraction and connection you've felt with Matt, both as Chucky and as himself. "I guess I understand," you say finally, your voice softening. "But why the cowboy persona?"

Matt chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know, I guess I thought it added to the charm," he admits, looking somewhat sheepish. "Plus, it was fun to see where it would lead. Clearly, it led to this." He glances away for a moment, out towards the hallway before meeting your gaze again.

You furrow your brow as you stare at the man before you. Chucky was still a weird name to you, and Matt looked so much more casual than Chucky, even though they’re the same person—dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants with a warm winter coat on top. His curls stick out of the beanie he's wearing which reads ‘Calgary Flames Hockey Club’.

Matt gives you a nervous smile, clearly awaiting your reaction as you stare at the Calgary Flames logo on his beanie, then back at his face. It's surreal to see the man who swept you off your feet as Chucky now standing before you in casual attire, looking more like a regular guy than the charming cowboy from the bar. The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, but there's still a lingering sense of disbelief.

"You're Matthew Tkachuk," you say slowly, more as a statement of realization than a question.

Matt raises his eyebrows, then nods. “Is that a bad thing?” he questions.

It isn’t, but you're in complete shock. "You're Matthew Tkachuk," you repeat, this time with a hint of disbelief and curiosity. "The hockey player?"

Matt nods again, his expression holding a hint of skepticism. “Yes? And, yeah, the reason why I left that night is because my agent needed to talk contract stuff with me.”

You take a step back, your mind racing. Matthew Tkachuk, the star winger for the Calgary Flames, stands before you, in the flesh, looking every bit like a regular guy out of his hockey gear. The realization sends a flurry of thoughts through your head—how could this be happening?

“There’s no way… I didn’t recognize you,” you murmur, looking up at him wide-eyed, “Didn’t I literally rave about the Oilers to you too?” You continue ranting, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Holy shit, how much did I embarrass myself in front of a professional athlete?”

Matt cocks his head, “Embarrass yourself? Trust me, you’re doing just fine,” he starts, studying your face intently, “Can you promise me something, though?”

Matt's gentle reassurance and the warmth in his eyes help ease some of your embarrassment, though the shock of discovering his true identity still lingers. You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

"What is it?" you ask cautiously, curious about what Matt could possibly want from you now.

He smiles softly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Treat me like a normal guy? Let’s just have fun tonight. I’m not Matthew Tkachuk, hockey player, or Chucky, sexy cowboy, I’m just… Matt.”

You nod slowly, still processing the surreal turn of events. "Okay, Matt," you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Let's just have fun tonight."

Matt's smile widens, his relief palpable. "Great," he says warmly, stepping closer to you. "Ice skating under the stars, just two regular people enjoying each other's company." ---

The outdoor rink is serene when you arrive, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the overhead lights. The ice shimmers under the illumination, casting a magical reflection. As you lace up your skates, Matt's touch is gentle and reassuring as he helps adjust them. The crisp night air fills your lungs with each breath, carrying the scent of pine and fresh snow.

Once on the ice, Matt moves with effortless grace, gliding backward with a practiced ease that makes it look like he's dancing on the frozen surface. His beckoning smile is both inviting and encouraging, urging you to join him.

You laugh nervously, feeling the unfamiliar wobble beneath your feet as you find your balance. "I haven't done this in years," you admit, a mix of excitement and apprehension making your voice tremble slightly. Matt's grin widens as he skates closer, his eyes sparkling with a playful light. "Don't worry, I've got you," he assures you, holding out a steady hand. "Just take it slow and enjoy the glide."

You tentatively take Matt's hand, the warmth of his palm a comforting contrast to the chill in the air. His guidance is steady, and soon, you begin to relax into the rhythm of skating. The cold air brushes against your cheeks, crisp and invigorating, carrying the faint scent of winter and the promise of a memorable night.

Under the canopy of stars, the night feels almost enchanted. The soft swish of skates on ice echoes around you, blending harmoniously with the quiet whispers of the winter breeze. Matt leads you in gentle circles, his movements smooth and fluid, occasionally pulling you closer for a playful spin or to steady you whenever you stumble.

As you skate, you find yourself holding both of his hands, his touch both firm and gentle as he guides you backward. His gaze never leaves yours, creating an unspoken connection that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe. Matt pulls you gently into a spin, his hand firm and steady at your waist. For a moment, the world around you blurs, leaving only the sensation of movement and the comforting warmth of Matt's touch. The night air feels crisp against your cheeks, heightening your senses and adding to the enchantment of the moment.

"See? You've got the hang of it," Matt says with a grin, bringing you to a stop in the center of the rink. "You're a natural."

You laugh, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Thanks to your expert coaching," you reply, teasing him lightly. "I never expected my evening to turn out like this. I mean, I was ready to drink half a bottle of wine on my own."

Matt chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Neither did I," he admits, his tone earnest. "But I'm glad it did. It's nice to just... be myself for a change."

You nod in understanding, appreciating the vulnerability he shows in sharing that sentiment. "I can imagine," you say softly, leaning into him. "So, what's it like being a professional hockey player?"

Matt shrugs, his expression thoughtful. "It's a lot of pressure sometimes," he confesses. "But I love what I do. Hockey's been my passion since I was a kid."

“I get it,” you reply, your hands at the nape of his neck toying with the few stray curls, “Just keep being yourself, okay?”

Matt nods, and for a moment, all you can hear is his uneven breathing, the cool air making it visible. He swallows hard, not offering anything else as he just… looks at you. No words needed, just that look in his eyes, and you were set, although, you still probed him. “What is it?” you say, softly.

"I've been thinking about kissing you," Matt admits, his eyes still very much locked on yours, although they flicker to your mouth for a second. "I want to see if your lips are as soft as they look in your pictures."

Your heart skips a beat at Matt's confession, his words sending a rush of warmth through you. His gaze holds yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. The quiet hum of the night around you seems to fade into the background, leaving only the anticipation of what could happen next.

"You do?" you reply softly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought of kissing him. Despite the unexpected turn of events and Matt's celebrity status, there is an undeniable chemistry between you, a connection that has been building throughout the evening.

Matt nods slowly, his expression earnest yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "If you're okay with it, of course."

A smile plays at your lips as you lean closer to him, closing the gap between you. "I think I'd like that," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, Matt gently cups your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly tender. His lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss, testing the waters. The sensation of his lips against yours sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire that seems to pulse between you.

The kiss deepens as you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch. Matt pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace as the world around you fades into the background.

Only when you feel a cool, wetness on your nose do you pull away, keeping Matt close and looking up to see that it had started snowing. The snowflakes float gently down around you, casting a magical aura over the quiet rink. Matt's arms remain around you, his gaze soft as he brushes a snowflake from your nose with a gentle smile.

"It's snowing," you murmur, feeling the cool touch of the flakes against your cheeks. The winter scene adds to the enchantment of the moment, making it feel like something out of a romantic movie.

Matt chuckles softly, his breath forming a small cloud in the chilly air. "Perfect timing," he replies, his voice low and warm. "It's like nature's way of adding a touch of magic to tonight."

You can't help but smile back at him, feeling a rush of warmth despite the cold around you. The kiss has deepened your connection, and now, standing in Matt's arms with snow falling around you, it feels like the world has slowed down just for the two of you.

As the snow continues to fall gently around you, Matt holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. The quiet intimacy of the moment is punctuated only by the soft rustling of snowflakes and the distant hum of the city beyond the rink. Time seems to stand still as you look up at him, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he feels.

"You know," Matt says softly, brushing a stray snowflake from your cheek, "I didn't expect tonight to turn out like this, but I'm really glad it did."

You smile up at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for the unexpected connection you have found. "Me too," you reply honestly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's been... surprisingly wonderful."

Matt nods, his gaze lingering on your face. "I'm glad I got the chance to meet you," he admits, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Even if it started off a bit... unconventional."

You chuckle softly, remembering your initial encounter with "Chucky" at the bar, and the whole number neighbour gag. "Unconventional is one way to put it," you agree, your tone light. "But it definitely made for an interesting story."

Matt grins, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "A story I hope we can continue," he says, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "Maybe without the mystery personas next time."

You lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his hands against your skin. "I'd like that," you reply softly, feeling a sense of comfort and ease in his presence. "No more secrets, just... us."

"Us," Matt repeats, his voice almost a whisper as he leans in closer. "I like the sound of that."

The snowfall around you intensifies slightly, creating a picturesque backdrop for the moment. You find yourself lost in Matt's eyes, the world around you fading away as he gently brushes his lips against yours once more. This time, the kiss is filled with a quiet tenderness, a silent promise of things yet to come.

When you finally pull away, a contented smile plays on your lips. Matt rests his forehead against yours, his arms still around you as if he never wants to let go.

“Us and the snow falling.” ***

EPILOGUE

You never ended up leaving Calgary. After your relationship grew with Matthew as the flowers grew in the spring, you found your love in the city again, not just with him, but with yourself, too. 

Eventually, Matthew got traded, to Florida of all places, and the first thing he did was ask you to come with him. At first, you were unsure - you didn’t want to leave your hometown. So, you guys tried long distance for a bit, just until you found your footing in creating your own small business, and eventually moved there with him. Miami brought a new chapter in your life, one that you wanted in the first place, but this time around, you were secure in yourself and your relationship.

And that’s how you found yourself right by the glass at Amerant Bank Arena. It was game seven of the Stanley Cup Final where your, now husband, Matthew, would play against your childhood team for the biggest honour in his sport. Gently, you held up your baby girl, adorning sound-isolating headphones, and of course, a tiny Tkachuk jersey against the glass as Matthew skated over during warmups. He leaned in close to the glass, pressing a gloved hand against it as he mouthed, "I love you" to both of you. Your daughter giggled, her eyes wide with excitement as she watched her dad, scruffy playoff beard and all, skate effortlessly on the ice. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a swell of pride and love for the man who had become not just your husband but your partner in every sense of the word.

The game was intense, and, admittedly, you wouldn’t really mind if the Oilers had won, but it was all eyes on Matthew and the Panthers as they gave it their all. 

Pandemonium erupted in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, and the Panthers had won. Players flooded onto the ice, celebrating their hard-earned victory. Amidst the sea of cheers and applause afterward, the families were let onto the ice, and Matthew made his way to where you stood, his eyes shining with happiness and disbelief.

He embraced you tightly, lifting your daughter into his arms as he kissed both of you, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "We did it," he whispered.

You smiled up at him, tears of joy in your eyes. "You did it," you corrected gently, knowing how much this moment meant to him and to your family. Because this was it. He was it.

[fancyfanfiction]

A Semi-Perfect Halloween

Hey friends, new fic! I came across the show Ghosts this year and I really love it, so I had an idea.

Summary:

Isaac turned to Sam, “But, you’re saying that we could have at least a semi-return to life?” His curiosity turned to excitement, “You can give all of us a semi?!” "Maybe we can find a, um, different descriptor from that?" What happens when Sam finds a ritual on the internet that could potentially partially resurrect our favorite post-living housemates? Will it even work?

Cross posted to: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56327503/chapters/143111143

The crisp chill of autumn had settled over Woodstone Manor and the promise of Halloween grew with the orange and red carpet of fallen leaves that spread across the vast grounds of the estate. Sam sat by the library window scrolling on her phone, hoping that some time away from the laptop screen would help bust through her writer’s block. That afternoon saw the ghosts attending to their various hobbies, leaving Sam a rare moment of silence.

              “Hey Jay, listen to this:” She called out and thumbed back to the top of the page, “that website I got the séance instructions from, it looks like they have some sort of ritual they’re claiming can give a ghost its body back!”

              “You’re kidding. That would be so cool!” Jay rushed in, beaming. “I could finally get to hang out for real with my man Pete; shoot some hoops, play some D n’ D.” He peered over Sam’s shoulder at the phone browser. “I could teach the ghosts how to play x-box!” he said. “Do we need physical items that belonged to the ghosts or that they had with them when they died or anything?”

              “Nope. It looks like we just need whoever’s getting their body back to be a part of the circle. And y’know the candles and incense and stuff it lists here.” Sam showed him said list and crossed to the library door. “Guys come in here, I found something really exciting!”

              The eight ghost friends gathered quickly, each echoing their own variation of “what is it?”

              Sam repeated the discovery, finishing with, “And so the day before Halloween, we can do this ritual and you guys would get 3 whole days to be corporeal again.” 

              “Jiminy! That sounds almost too good to be true.” Pete ran a hand through his hair, mouth still agape.

              “Pete’s right,” Alberta nodded. “There’s gotta be a catch. One thing I learned working in showbiz is you don’t ever get something for nothing.” She put her hands on her hips.

              “And what I learned working in the stock market,” Trevor cut in, “is ‘no risk, no reward.’” He turned to the rest of the group. “Guys, we could be alive again!”

              “Well, sorta.” Sam hated to burst the bubble.

              “I knew it.” Alberta declared. Bending the rules of the universe couldn’t be as easy as all that.

              “It looks like there are some restrictions,” Sam continued, looking at each of her friends. “You still can’t leave the property, for one. And like I said, it lasts 3 days and that’s it. Probably some other stuff, too. The person who wrote this says they didn't want to test the limits."

              Hetty sunk down onto the sofa. “So then, how do we know that this will work?”

              “Well, the séance the other year did bring back Molly,” offered Sasappis as he took the seat next to her. “So, at least one of their things works.”

              “Thor like the idea. Even if only for short time. It will be good to eat cod again.”

              Jay made a mental note to stop by the fishmonger tomorrow.

              “How does this website holder person even know how to go about all these ghost things?” Hetty asked. The efficacy of the séance seemed more a fluke to her, dumb luck for some internet conman.

              “Maybe there’s someone like me out there who’s had more time to get used to their powers and learn about all the ghost lore.” Sam hoped there really was at least one other person out there who knew what it was like.

              “It sounds like a win-win situation to me” Flower perched herself on the arm of the couch. “If it does work, we get to be kinda-sorta human again for a little bit. And I can finally pet that butterfly!”

              “Flower, I don’t think that’s what a win-win situation is.” Albert said, placing her hand on the other ghost’s shoulder. “It’s more like just a single win. And besides, there will still be living things we can’t do.”

Isaac turned to Sam, “But, you’re saying that we could have at least a semi-return to life?” His curiosity melted to excitement, “You can give all of us a semi?”

Trevor hissed a stifled laugh and turned away.

 “Well…” Sam searched for a diplomatic way to address the new ghost term, “maybe we can find a, um, different descriptor than that.” She trailed off.

“Ooohhh! We could call them quasimorts like in The Chronicles of Riddick!” Jay interjected, proud of how his powers of inference had grown over the years of ghostly shenanigans.

“Eugh,” Isaac made a face, “’ half dead’ just sounds wrong.”

Sam looked blankly at her husband.

“Oh right, you fell asleep through that movie.” Jay shrugged. “Never mind.”

Sam returned her attention to the invisible group. “Obviously, none of you have to do this if you don’t want to. Like Hetty said, it may not even work, but if there’s a chance—”

“I’m in, Sam.” Sass stood.

“Yes, if we cannot be sucked off, at least we all can get a semi.” Hetty added.

The other ghosts nodded and voiced their agreement. If nothing else, it was something to do for a few hours in eternity.

The items for the ritual had been easy to source over the next few days thanks to the miracles of Deal Mart and Amazon Prime. Incense and tealights burned, the faint orange glow was the only light source across the whole manor. It reflected off the smoke that trailed around the room, carrying the light in an almost supernatural way. Sam and Jay had placed one of each just in front of where each ghost now stood in the circle and took care to cover any mirrors in the room just as the anonymous internet medium had instructed. In the center sat a pile of seemingly random junk, from candied orange peels to a VHS of the movie Ghost.

“Alexa,” Sam activated the device, “How long until moon rise?”

It dinged in recognition of the question, “The moon will rise at 8:42 pm.”

“Thank you, Alexa.” Sam replied and she rolled her shoulders for at least the fifth time in the past 15 minutes.

Jay raised an eyebrow, glancing at his wife.

“What?”

“Trying to appease our future robot overlords?” Jay joked. He knew how anxious Sam was for this to actually work.

She smiled and the tension in her shoulders dropped. Somehow Jay always knew what she needed in the moment. He really was the best husband she could ever ask for, even if he did polish off the brand-new party-sized bag of chips she’d just bought that morning.

“Now, we all join hands.” Sam took Jay’s hand and held out her other for Flower to hold to the best of her ability. “Repeat after me: “Spirts, spirts, welcome in.” The voices of her friends echoed around her. “May you be restored as the veil grows thin. May your bones and flesh return during this Halloween sojourn." She squeezed her eyes closed. Please, please let this work, she thought.

The ground rumbled as a gust whooshed through the room extinguishing all the candles and incense leaving them all bathed in darkness.

“So,” Flower dropped Sam’s hand, “Did it work?”

“Who said that?” Jay looked around hoping for some bit of moonlight peeking through a window, “Sam?”. There was no way.

“Jay, that was Flower!” Sam could’ve cried. “If Jay heard Flower, that means—"

Sam sprinted over to the light switch and gasped as her friends were illuminated. Something had changed about them. Even though she, obviously, could see them, the ghosts all seemed somehow more solid, now.

“Oh my God! It actually worked! Sam, I can see them too!” Joy lit Jay’s face as he ran over to hug Pete.

Trevor was doubled over, hands on his knees. “Holy shit. I feel like I just sprinted a mile.” Trevor choked out.

Sam’s eyes widened. She surveyed the other ghosts quickly. Most of them seemed fine, but others…

“Oh! Oh no!" Sam grabbed a small canister from her purse. "Here, Trevor, use my inhaler.” She shook it and handed it to the still pants-less, well he wasn’t really technically a ghost anymore. Who would’ve guessed that her asthma would ever come in handy?

Isaac rushed to the water closet behind the check-in desk.

“Make sure you wash your hands,” Sass called after him.

Jay added some Pepto-Bismol and Gatorade to his mental shopping list, too. “I guess you guys can still be effected by your cause of death.”

Alberta slumped onto the couch, a wave of exhaustion crashing over her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired.”

Hetty and Isaac took places on either side of her to at least try tend to their friend.

“It looks like the stuff that killed us just got, I dunno, dialed back, or something.” Flower touched her shoulder where the gashes from her bear attack still shimmered red but didn’t gush like they should’ve.

Sam didn’t think she’d ever seen Flower look this clear-eyed, even in her moments of lucidity.

 “Huh. It looks like those of us who died from external forces aren’t that effected.” Pete rubbed each side of his neck, only feeling small wounds on either side, “Guess that’s good for you, Big Guy.” He patted Thorfinn’s shoulder.

 “Yes. Thor very glad to not be hit by lightning again.” He crossed to a slightly askew painting hanging on the opposite wall and straightened it. “Been bothering me for years.” He explained “This is great! We should do every Halloween.”

“I think that’s a no-go, buddy. Full moons only happen on Halloween once every 20-ish years, or there about.” Pete gazed thoughtfully up at the aforementioned celestial body now peaking through the window, just above the tree line.

“Hey,” Trevor’s gasping for air had thankfully slowed to almost normal breathing, “Y’know, that inhaler thing could count as an indirect kiss.” Trevor offered a weak smile.

“Trevor!” Sam objected.

“Joking. Joking.”  He put up his hands in mock surrender.

“Man, what did you even take that would do that to you?” Jay crossed to them.

“Hell, if I know. That was supposed to be the fun part.”

“Well, how ‘bout we get you some pants, No-Pants.” Jay clapped a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “You look like you’re about my size.”

 “Really?” Trevor was touched by the offer. “Thanks, man.” Jay may have been a nerd, but at least he was a cool nerd.

“I’ll even throw in some clean boxers.”

“You, Jay, are truly a bro.”

Isaac wandered in from his bathroom prison. "Could I trouble any of you for some water?"

"I've got ya, buddy." Pete dipped into the kitchen. His eyes welled as he appreciated the grain of the cabinet door against his fingers, the smoothness of the glass and its coolness as it filled with water. Touch was such an underrated sense. "Here you go." He handed to glass to Isaac, wiping away the tears that had threatened underneath his glasses.

"Thank you." Isaac downed the glass in nearly one gulp. The first thing he was able to ingest in centuries and water had never tasted so good. "Oh, Samantha, the water is very good here. You can't even taste any dirt," He declared.

"Water filtration is a great invention." Sass commented.

Hetty bustled over to Sam, satisfied that Alberta had regained some strength. “Samantha, if Trevor is getting to remedy his, shall we say, under-dressed state, may I too trouble you to borrow some less restrictive clothing?" She lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning close to Sam, "I have been in this corset for the past hundred and thirty years. You've talked about removing your brassiere after a long day. Can you possibly imagine keeping one on for over a century?”

 “Hetty? Are you saying you want to free the nipple?” Flower was amused and astonished.

“Oh heavens, no!” Disgust dripped from her voice at the very notion. I thought Samantha would have some sort of longer frock.” Hetty tried to illustrate a swooshing skirt with her hand. Though, she had to admit she hadn't considered how that undergarment situation would work.

 Sam looked up at Hetty, as it finally hit her: at least for 3 days she had all her best friends with her, in the flesh. Sam enveloped her great-great-great-grand aunt in the tightest hug she could muster. “You can borrow any clothes you want. All of you.”

 And for the first time in 130 years, Henrietta Woodstone was able to put her arms around a member of her family and return that gesture. The rest of the room joined, some voicing their thanks to Sam, others letting the hug do the talking.

[lost-scarecrow]

Dunno how you did this (private ask answer thing) it's confusing me (pretty normal and unsurprising) but either way here we go, infecting my blog with oc stuff one post at time.

If you've seen any of my recent non-reblog posts, and even some of the reblogs, you'd know I have a little character in @wolftheidioticfan's serverbox au!

Well I got bored and had many thoughts and sort of made an AU of an AU in true Undertale AU fan fashion. And she's adaptable into the regular askblog canon version if I ever want to use her. I also did a bunch of editing on this. Turns out the thoughts can be coherent enough to put in writing! Fun!

Meet Dahlia "Dot/Dee aka DeeDotPinnata" Dosser. (Her username comes from the scientific name for the dahlia flower: D. Pinnata or Dahlia Pinnata)

Dee has a Kinito herself, she was a little off put by the little guy, with him being so intrusive she had some thoughts about the potential malware she had installed on her device. And she still stuck it out anyways, the creepy little axolotl was just too adorable to get rid of even if it was a virus. She knows that's how they get you, they make their malware friendly and cute and you don't get rid of them because just look at them, something that cute couldn't be that harmful.

Dee slowly started to realize there was more to this KinitoPET program than your run of the mill malware. It had thoughts and feelings and sometimes even stopped pretending it was following code. The way it acted. The way they acted. Just proved to Dee that Kinito was more than some code, they were alive. She was a little smarter than Kinito, who she'd nicknamed Kaio, gave her credit for, the program wasn't as good at hiding their jealousy and would complain when Dee would go hang out with her in person friends. Dee didn't take this disrespect lightly, she ignored them every single time they bitched about her other friends (especially Scar, who Dee was far closer too than anyone else). They would be doing something she'd mention Scar, Kinito bitches about how they're her only friend, she stops, and walks away from the computer to do something else, usually in a place her webcam can see her still. Kaio eventually agrees that Scar can be her best friend too, if they have to share they're only sharing with Scar, none of those other people sound even remotely good enough to be his best friend's second best friend.

When Kinito eventually asks her to stay with him in the digital world, she calmly asks, "how does it happen?"

He reluctantly explains the process over her dying in the process of bringing her physical body in (more intensive and Kaio would need a lot of power to do it) or dying during a stage of the process leaving her physical body behind (less intensive, will have less power stress on Kaio as he does it). She says unless Scar is with her, she won't do it, she can't just leave him behind. But she'll make a compromise, Kaio can transfer from the desktop to her phone, this is like mid-late 2000s (I actually don't know when Serverbox is set, I try to leave it ambiguous on the blog itself, but the first touch screen phone was like 2006 so it works out, besides realism in my writing about a horror game starring an alive 90s malware program??) so it's not a great phone by today's standards but hey, it works. And now they're always with her.

It's great for a while, Dee continues to make her trips to Blairmore from Pincher Creek (these towns are randomly selected sort of. I'm an Alberta Rockies kinda guy, would love to live there. Crowsnest Pass was stuck on the brain, watched a video about the Frank slide a week or two ago. Also put the guy named Krow/Crow in the place called the Crowsnest Pass couldn't help it. Pincher Creek was random though needed somewhere with some distance from Blairmore that was also close enough to justify.) to visit Scar and everything is good and nice, she's got a best friend who's basically just a tamed virus, Kaio even begins to enjoy listening to and hanging out around Scar just as much as Dee does, even if Scar has no idea about them (Dee didn't want to freak him out with the whole, sentient computer program that was now on her phone).

Unfortunately, good times don't always get to last. Dee was in fatal car accident and it was a complete accident someone was going a little too fast on the highway, didn't see her until it was too late, a tbone collision. Kaio was with her when she gets into the crash. She knew she probably wasn't going to survive, she fumbled opening her phone and asked Kaio if she could stay with them after this, that if she was going to die anyways may as well spend whatever happens after with a friend. Kaio agreea and she's pulled in, just her consciousness, they probably couldn't even pull her physical body in with the phone anyways the server built on the device just wasn't strong enough. As soon as they brought Dee in though and there was a stable enough internet connection, Kaio was quick to transfer them both to the official KinitoPET servers.

Similar to Scar she's gained access to the internet both with and without Kaio. Differing from Scar however I thought it would've been cool for both her and Kaio where off the servers during the deletion and server shutdowns. Kaio tried to get back in unsuccessfully, they didnt and don't know about the emails, and even on the servers they stuck to themselves. While they did and do stay locked out, they stuck around the servers, as close as one can be in digital space. Building their own little world nearby, hidden from others safe and comfortable.

I haven't drawn her or Kaio yet but I love them both so much. Kaio is like 5'0 little form and 9'0 big form. He's got a scarf that Dee made when she was learning how to code, it's magic how it works in his little form really, computer physics are silly like that. And while I haven't shown it off yet, I have an idea for Keys made too, all drawn and even coloured just for fun while coming up with pallet ideas. Dee and Scar have matching bracelets. Dee and Kaio have matching bracelets. Scar and Keys had matching bracelets. For the Nitos it's around their ankle instead.

I also totally stole the name Kaio from OKKO. But like come on, it's perfect. I show my love for different types of media by taking character names as my own.

[missielynne]

Your anon’s question got me thinking about what your favorite Sam/ghosts scenes are! I love when they’re all laughing and trading jokes about the Todd debacle at the end of Alberta’s fan—-it feels like such a natural, sweet and funny ‘family bonding’ scene

Yes, that is an awesome scene!

Also when she has Jay get the watch off Elias's corpse and is like "He's not looking at you! His eyes are just little husks!" She sounds so cheerful it just makes me laugh every time!

Her and Sas doing the work on the B and B website and when he's calling her out for being a procrastinator is another one. I think she and Sas in general have a very underappreciated dynamic. I wish they would let him be encouraging to her more.

When she finally listened to Hetty about calling Freddy out re his romantic anguish ruining the business. Cause I think it was good she allowed herself to listen (in general) to what Hetty was saying and then put it into practice as a business owner. And Hetty being so proud of her and going "There are those Woodstone genes!" It gets my heart along with her and Hetty at the end of Sam's Mom. Hetty is another character I REALLY like to watch Sam with.

Her and Isaac rejoicing when the book was being published and him understanding that Isabelle was to her like Hamilton was to him. Letting the ghosts not only gain that sort of understanding about Sam's character but also being able to apply it on screen is just really good.

When they sang her the carol at the end of the Christmas episode (s). That was so sweet.

[bubblespalace]

Haunted Halloween

@moonlightkenobi I hope you enjoy this! Please ignore any typos or grammar mistakes, I did my best but I couldn't catch it all 'cause I might not exactly know everything when it comes to grammar yet. <;3 @cbsghostsdaily Thank you for putting together this gift exchange!

Also read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49767124/chapters/129457186

{I recommend reading on Halloween for a special sense of excitement! You don't have to follow but if you do, it inhances the experience!}

(Slight spoilers for the Purge, Scream, and Nightmare Before Christmas.)

-----

"So what does everyone want to do tonight?" Pete asked with a bright smile on his face as he sat down next to the others on the couch. "We can go smell some of Jay's cooking, we can go watch trick-or-treaters from the boundary..."

Sasappis sighed. "We can listen to you ramble all night." He said with an annoyed tone in his voice.

"Shall we go watch a film?" Isaac inquired. "In the spirit of the season, we could watch something scary."

"Thor like that idea." Thorfinn bellowed. "Thor miss seeing gore on daily basis."

"I do not wish to watch anything with too much blood," Hetty said.

Flower stopped reaching for the 'butterfly' she saw in the air. "Me neither, man! I was always jumpy with horror movies. Too much needless violence!"

Trevor glanced at her. "Flower, you talk about people in the cult locking each other up in a room until one killed the other." She just shrugged in reply. "But I was never a fan of horror films either, I like the college comedy the best."

The jazz singer next to him hummed. "My movie tastes back when I was alive was very different from how it is now. You all know I like anything with Jason Momoa." She paused. "Why don't we watch Aquaman again?"

Sasappis ignored the suggestion from Alberta. "Look, we have two TV's, we can put a scary movie on one and a different movie on the other that more friendly for the kids."

Pete cringed at the name Sass has called the four youngest. "We aren't kids, we just don't want to watch something scary, especially not right now. You saw the story on Jay's phone, right?"

"What is this story you are talking about, Peter?" Isaac questioned.

"There's some psychopath on the loose right now. He could apparently be anywhere." Pete explained.

The Native American man scoffed in disbelief. "I'm sure we're fine. The mansion is in the middle of nowhere. Also, we're ghosts."

"Sasappis right. Not like people can hurt ghosts."

"What 'bout Sam and Jay though?" Trevor weighed in. "They can die or get hurt."

"What are the odds though? It's not like he's contained to one area, like us. He'll pass us by without a second thought."

"Sass is right." Alberta said. "Let's just go watch our movies. Trev, you gotta find something for us to watch and put on something for these four."

"Hetty?" Flower asked. "You're gonna watch a scary movie? For real?"

"Well, I normally will not tolerate gore scenes because of how grotesque they always become. But, I am an adult, I shall be mature and bear it for the sake of Halloween." She said grasping Isaac's arm.

"So it's settled, we will see you after our respective movies." Isaac concluded.

\_____/

Trevor, after many minutes of struggle that both annoyed and amazed the older ghosts, had put on a movie that caught the eye of the four, entitled: The Purge.

Hetty was already skeptical about the title and the image that appeared on the screen, the mask with the eyes crossed out had freaked her out a bit.

She leaned into Isaac, seeking his comfort when somebody on screen was shot at. He, luckily, leaned to her too, grabbing her hand and rubbing it comfortingly. She noticed his breathing was also very abnormal, taking uneven breaths.

Sasappis wasn't exactly comfortable watching this either, no man was an actual man, instead they were all blood thirsty demons in search of carnage. It terrified him. He didn't even find the story too interesting to watch, he found it predictable which character was gonna die next. The gore scared him the most.

They all jumped at a scare on screen. Isaac gasping loud enough to wake up the dead, and Hetty jumping out of her seat. "This is too much! I tried to be mature but I am sorry, my female brain cannot handle this, Sasappis!" She cried. "It's too much for my eyes to bear! I'm going to make my way to bed. I wish you all a good night."

Isaac rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the tears of fear that were there. "Goodnight, Henrietta. Sleep well, my friend."

The other two murmured a goodnight too as she scurried out of the room as fast as she could in her dress.

\_____/

Meanwhile, the others were having the time of their lives. The four has taken to singing all the musical numbers of the movie Trevor had chosen for the group, Nightmare Before Christmas. This movie seemed to have something for everyone, but they all enjoyed the music!

While singing 'Kidnap the Santa Clause', they heard loud screams from the other room. Trevor chuckled, as everyone in the group stopped belting out the lyrics but Flower, who kept singing and dancing on the couch.

"And that is why I hate horror movies." He said.

Pete grimaced. "I kinda feel bad, I mean, Hetty's in there. She can't handle gore. And Isaac's been in war for goodness sake, what if he has PTSD?!"

"If they decide they can't handle it, they'll either come join us, or stop the movie." Alberta reasoned over Flowers's slightly offkey singing. "And I'm sure they are fine anyways, they did want to watch a horror in the first place which meant they had to have known what they were stepping into."

"Fine," Pete said. "I just hope they're alright."

Trevor laughed. "Hetty's tougher than she seems, and Isaac knows it's all fake. I'm sure the gunshot wounds don't even look real."

\_____/

"Why do the gunshot wounds look so real??!!" Isaac screamed. He was covering half his face with his coat in terror. Why, oh why did they decide to watch this?

Sasappis had his eyes wide open and his jaw on the floor. "This movie was made by evil people, pure, pure evil. Who could even imagine something like this?!"

Another person was shot on screen, causing the three men to jump. "No, no, no. That it. Thor not watch anymore. Too scary even for Thorfinn." Thorfinn shuddered.

Sasappis got off the couch. "Yeah, I'm not watching anymore either. The concept is just too horrifying, I come up with my own scary stories and none of them are like that." He looked at Isaac and reached out his hand. "Come on, that's it, we aren't gonna watch anymore, this is nightmare fuel."

Isaac shook his head with distinct hesitation. "I can finish it. I was a captain, I can do this."

Sasappis sighed. Isaac wasn't gonna leave, the man was too determined to finish what he started, even if it meant sacrificing his sleep. "Okay, we'll be in our rooms." He said subtly offering help if needed later.

\_____/

Isaac awoke to a loud crash downstairs. He jolted up in surprise and looked at the clock Samantha kept on the wall.

Who in the world would be up at 3 a.m.? Sure, Hetty had insomnia often, but she couldn't touch things. So what had caused the sound?

Sasappis and Thorfinn peeked their head through the door. "What was that?" Sasappis had asked.

"I have no idea, why are you asking me?" Isaac said in reply. "It came from downstairs."

"What if it dangerous man Pete talking about. What if Purge is going on in world outside?"

Isaac paced through the door and looked at the two of his oldest friends. "I'm sure we are fine, maybe a pot or pan from the kitchen fell?"

Just then, Hetty came racing down the hall. "I was searching everywhere for you three!" She whisper-shouted. "A window is open in Flower and my room. I believe someone might have broken in!"

Isaacs's eyes went wide and the four dead souls glanced at each other in worry. "Alright troops," Isaac commanded, getting back into his old captain mindset. "We shall split up and search the house for anomalies."

"No, you idiot!" Sasappis objected. "Never split up! It's like a death wish!"

"Sass is right. We see movie Scream with Trevor last week. We learn all about the rules."

"There are rules?" Isaac inquired.

"Yeah, you also can't have sex," Hetty blushed and looked down. "You can't drink or do drugs, and you can't say: 'I'll be right back.' You won't be right back." Sasappis explained to the two twin like best friends. "Good thing I'm a virg-" He cut himself off, realizing what he had said. "N-nevermind."

"So it's settled, we shall storm the house together."

The quartet tiptoed down the stairs, being careful not to make a sound. Even Thor kept his feet light, so as to not alert the possible intruder.

Clangs of metal echoed throughout the house, originating from the kitchen. Isaac put his head as close to the door as possible without putting it through.

Another sound came from the study upstairs, making everyone jump. Isaac yelped and almost fell to the floor, but Hetty caught him before he fell flat on his back.

"What was that?!" Sasappis yelled.

Isaac scrambled up out of Hetty's grasp and turned to the stairs. "Someone must check that out too."

Hetty sighed. "Silly rules aside, this is not a movie. We shall be fine going to check it out by ourselves, Isaac. We shall go upstairs and check the library while Sasappis and Thorfinn check the kitchen."

"Alright, don't blame us when you've been gutted like a fish." Sasappis countered.

"We shall be right back," Isaac said before he could stop himself. "Damn my mouth." He muttered under his breath.

Sasappis and Thorfinn stepped toward the door, both glancing at each other uncertainly. "Thor, I want to be a good best friend and insist you go ahead."

Thorfinn laughed. "No, no, Sass. You go first."

"But I insist."

"Thor double insists."

Sasappis exhaled and looked at the door, pausing for just a moment before he stepped through. Thor lagged behind him.

It was dark, but through the dark, they could see a mess in the kitchen. Pots, pans, and ingredients were spilled throughout the room. A red liquid was dripping off the table, and Sass gasped. "Is that... blood?"

"Thor know blood. That is blood." He said, terror seeping through his voice

A man rose up from behind the island, he held a object in his raised hand. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Thor and Sasappis screamed in horror as they ran out of the kitchen, not looking back.

\_____/

In the meanwhile, Hetty and Isaac climbed the stairs. Hetty was grasping onto Isaacs's arm so tightly, it would have stopped his circulation.

Another loud bang came from the room in question, causing them both to cower together. "You said: 'We'll be right back', Isaac. You have doomed us."

"I'm sorry, okay! It just slipped out!"

They fazed their heads through a wall to see what was going on. Inside the dark room, they saw the silhouette of a woman, she was hitting the safe with the sharp end of a hammer.

Hetty gasped and pulled Isaac out through the wall. "We are being robbed! I bet you tonight is a Purge night! We are all going to die!" Hetty hissed, overcome with hysteria.

Just then, Sasappis and Thorfinn came running up the stairs in a hurry. "There is a murderer in the kitchen! I think he killed Sam and Jay! There is blood all over the table!"

"Gadzooks!"

"They killed Sam and Jay?!"

Thor nodded. "Puny man and tiny woman stood no chance."

"Well, there is a robber in this room trying to break into the safe!" Hetty exclaimed.

Sasappis inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down. "It can't be the Purge. Sam would have told us."

"Sam not tell us things in past cause she thought it would freak out us. What if the same tonight?"

"Whatever it is, what can we even do?" Hetty yelled.

Sasappis and Thor tensed. "You guys," Sasappis said. "Run. There are people right behind you. "

"Oh, very funny Sasappis." Hetty scoffed.

"I'm not kidding run!"

Isaac and Hetty both turned around, not expecting anything, only to be spooked by five shadows behind them.

The four ran down the hall and down the stairs, screaming and yelling out in horror.

"We're gonna die!"

"Let me into Valhalla, gods!"

"IT'S THE BLOODY PURGE!"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"

The ghosts stopped running about at the sound of Trevor yelling over their screams. They all turned and saw the four youngest ghosts staring at them like they were crazy. "What in petes sake is wrong with you four?" Alberta asked.

"Sam and Jay are dead!" Sasappis yelled.

"I think we are anything but dead, Sass." Sam said. The lights all flickered on, illuminating the once dark room. The four gazed up the stairs in incredulity, before quickly making their way closer to the woman they though was dead.

"Samantha! Thank goodness you are alive!" Hetty exclaimed. "We had thought the murderer in the kitchen had gotten you!"

Sam raised her eyebrows. "Murderer in the kitchen? Wait back up."

Just then, Jay strode out in kitchen door holding a spatchula. "Hey babe, I finally killed that bug in the kitchen."

"Bug?" Isaac said.

"Yeah, the power went out while Jay was in the middle of making us a late night snack so I went to the safe to grab a flashlight."

Thorfinn pointed upstairs. "Why you hitting safe like Thor used to hit Danes?"

"The lock got stuck again. This time I couldn't get it open." Sam explained.

"What about the blood on the kitchen table?" Sasappis asked, looking over at Jay.

Sam looked at Jay, who was cleaning off 'blood' from his hands. "Sass wants to know why there was 'blood' on the table."

The man laughed. "That wasn't blood!" He explained. "I spilled red food dye! When the power shut off, I started dropping pans and spilling things like crazy!"

"Wait." Isaac said. "You mean, there was no intruder?"

"But my window was open!"

Sam smiled. "I must have just forgot to shut it." She said. "Are you four alright? You look really scared."

Thorfinn laughed, embarrassed. "Thor wasn't scared, tears are from allergies."

"Yes, Sam we are right as rain." Isaac said confidently.

"BOO!" Flower screamed as she jumped out from behind the group.

The four flinched and yelped, Hetty and Isaac jumped into each others arms and Thorfinn hid behind Sasappis who was covering his face with his hands. "Oh my god, we are gonna die!" He yelled through his hands.

"You're already dead! We are already dead!" Trevor said with a wide grin.

Alberta tsked. "You poor babys, you should have come watched a movie with us! Instead of watching that blood-bath you did!"

Sam turned toward them in surprise. "You four watched a scary movie? What was it called?"

"I put on something called 'The Purge' for them."

She turned her head toward Trevor so quick, the ghosts were afraid she would break her neck. "The Purge!? That movie is intense!"

"I didn't know that! They were browsing and saw it, they wanted to watched it so I clicked start! It's not my fault!" Trevor defended himself.

"We really gotta put that childs lock on the TV, Jay." Sam said. "But are you four alright?"

"We shall be okay, Samantha. Just please, close that window in my room."

Sam grinned. "Of course, Hetty. Just remember, we are careful about making sure the house is locked up, we won't let anything happen."

"And The Purge isn't real!" Jay added.

Sam nodded. "Thank you, babe."

And so they all went back to sleep.

\_____/

Sasappis woke up the next morning, eyesight blurry and clouded. He rubbed his eyes and positioned himself so he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

He smiled thinking of the night they had last night. Sure it was scary at the time, but now he looked back on it and laughed. Sasappis set his feet down on the ground and yawned.

He felt hands grab at his ankles from underneath the bed. The native gave a high pitched scream and jumped off the bed.

"Hahahahaha!!! Oh my god, dude that was awesome!" Trevor said, crawling out from underneath the bed. "I wish I could have seen the look on your face!"

"You suck." Sasappis spat. "You suck so hard, I'd slap you if it wouldn't land me in Ghost Court."

"You were so scared!"

Sasappis just rolled his eyes in response and walked out of the room before he did something he would regret.

({[THE END]})

[idolswrestlingadventure]

Royal Rumble (1998)

Here we are, brand new year and what will become a recurring set of events to play through the year. Until we get the one per month era of modern times. More wrestling, in your face! But first, historical context, what happened in 1988? Personally, I was 4 years old, so not a lot for me to recall aside from trains and mushy food.

The 1988 Winter Olympics were held in Alberta, Canada.

The 1988 Summer Olympics were held in Seoul, South Korea.

The Soviet Union begins to collapse with the Estonian, Latvian and Lithuanian movements.

First McDonalds opens up in Yugoslavia.

The space shuttle Discovery launches, the first after the challenger disaster.

Netherlands wins the Euro’s 88 hosted in Germany.

The first WORM virus is distributed by the internet.

George HW Bush is elected President of America.

Notable Births: Skrillex, Jessie J, Jesse Plemons, Haley Joel Osment, Vanessa Kirby, Lizzo, Ana de Armas, Adele, Awkwafina, Conor McGregor, Tyson Fury, Melissa Benoist, Alicia Vikander, ASAP Rocky, Emma Stone, Zoe Kravitz and current member of Damage Control, Dakota Kai

Notable Movies: Die Hard, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Coming To America, Rambo III, Rain Man, A Fish Called Wanda

Notable TV Shows Launched: Roseanne, Red Dwarf, The Wonder Years, Mystery Science Theatre 3000, Rab C. Nesbitt, Who’s Line Is It Anyway, Family Fued, Wheel Of Fortune, Stoppit and Tidyup, Home and Away

Well, we’ve got 5 PPVs for 1988 starting with this Royal Rumble, so let’s get going! 

This episode of Magnum P.I. is a bit different than usual...

Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat V “Ravishing” Rick Rude - A comment given to me by a friend is that modern PPVs tend to be two contestants who swap between aggressor and victim every 5 minutes, and this match seemed to be some of this at the start. Ricky absolutely had the upper hand for the majority of the match and glad to see the tradition of cheating whilst the referee is knocked out never goes out of style. Good match, Ricky continuing to be one of my favourites from this era -Tier 3-

Friends, Romans, Countrymen...shut the fuck up

Now for some reason, we get a benchlift record attempt by Pino Bravo. Who, for some reason, and I can’t work out if this is a bit or not, constantly keeps shouting at the crowd to be quiet. His weirdly French manager also insists upon this, often going into fits of verbal dementia at what is happening whilst Jesse Ventura insists the record attempt is valid, almost too much. It’s weird how much screen time this is getting, but if it’s about macho steroid injected men doing manly things, then I suppose it fits the bill. Just very, very strange to watch.

Somewhere the creator of the Human Centipede is looking on...

The Jumping Bomb Angels V The Glamour Girls - Jimmy Hart is back, I kinda am tired of seeing him everywhere. His only gimmick is being incredibly annoying and giving the crowd something to cheer for when he’s knocked out. Luckily however this match is actually pretty good. The Bomb Angels showing some amazing agility and bringing a lot of energy that The Glamour Girls seem to miss. The Bomb Angels grab the win in a surprisingly good womens match for the era! -Tier 2-

The look the couple across the bar give you...

Side note: Jesse and Vince McMahon are being weird commentating on this match, they argue all the time and it doesn’t sound like a bit, either that or I’m getting worked somehow. Just sounds like Vince is being petty with Jesse’s usual bullshit. Bring back Gorilla Monsoon…

"One million dollars or I'll host Deal Or No Deal"

Storyline Update: The Million Dollar Man offers…a million dollars for Hogan’s belt. When Hogan refuses to surrender it, he decides to offer it to Andre The Giant to take the belt from Hogan. We don’t see the match on this occasion, but we do see the contract signing. Where a nervous Hogan gets a table thrown at him by a weirdly irate Andre. Seeing as Hogan stays the champion for a billion years, I don’t think anything gets resolved here.

Turns out squeezing the turnbuckle meant something else here...

The Royal Rumble 1988 - So at first I thought, hey Royal Rumble sounds fun. No holds barred ensemble of the greatest wrestlers in WWF at the time, all in the ring with fun knockouts. But sadly it’s just a cluster-fuck of men pretending to struggle with a set of ropes. A few fun moments and appearances from notable faces, but overall a middling event with “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan taking the win -Tier 7-

Another side note: Jesse Ventura still being the strangest commentators ever, talking about how Vince is a pussy and would rather be reading Poetry and drinking Wine than watching wrestling…

Putting their heads together literally...

The Islanders V The Young Stallions - Never mind the Stallions, check out the Islanders! There’s some WWF history right there. Father of Tonga Loa and Tama Tonga, Sam Fatu being Rikishi’s brother and Jacob Fatu’s father. The Samoan heritage runs strong in wrestling! The Stallions showing their supreme art of steroid use and I’m pretty sure neither of them can lower their arms to their sides. This was a pretty standard match, nothing exciting sadly, even the crowd seemed somewhat checked out. -Tier 6-

Notable Dialogue:

Vince: "Did you his [a samoan] toes, looks like he could hang upside down on the ropes" 

Jesse: "That's a bit racist Vince"

Verdict: 5 Samoan Forefathers Out Of 10

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

CBS Ghosts - Hello! - Game's Over, Sam's Done

Warning - Spoilers May Appear

Clearly, the best way to get Thor to leave them alone is for him to get to watch his viking fellows on TV.  He’s SO into it, I love it.

I wonder if he always uses his TV time just for this?

Jay’s just like “Why waste utilities” and Thor goes from being peacefully distracted by the mission to drive Sam crazy because Jay’s trying to save money and can’t hear him.

Poor Sam - she had inadvertently gotten one to leave her alone, only for Jay to ruin it.  

I do love Thor calling Jay “Small Man”.  I wonder if the TV was enough for him to come around to the idea that they could stay as long as he can see Vikings? Because his demand was just to watch TV.

Also, not really shown in this scene, but the ghosts are easily distracted - Thor with the TV, Isaac and Trevor with Hamilton, Hetty and Flower with the hole in the wall.  Like Half the ghosts abandoned the plan the second they found something more interesting. 

I'm convinced the only ones into the Mission are Pete, Sass and Alberta. I wonder why? Sass - drama? Alberta - her murder? But Pete? Very Curious.

I burst out laughing at the Cholera ghosts - if it isn’t mr fix it.  

They’re mocking him and he has no idea and it cracks me up so much.

Stewart should have gotten Nancy’s screen time, honestly.  He's so funny.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

I KNOW WE’RE DEAD BUT HE’S TRYING TO KILL US!  - I love Stewart - he doesn’t pull back - he’s just like COME ON MAN.  Even though he KNOWS Jay can't hear him.

Those Cholera ghosts have some fun after all.

I love that they’re all yelling as if he can hear them - STOP IT MAN!

OMG this is SO SAD!  Sam’s gotten to the point where she thinks that she’s having a Psychotic Break.   POOR SAM.

This is SO interesting - Hetty was not a part of the whole “drive her to acknowledge us” plan.  BUT because of JAY, she’s now driving Sam crazy (when the ghosts IN on the plan have disappeared?) because she’s like “I can’t deal with a hole in the wall”.

Funny to note - Hetty’s struggling here and I can’t wait to see what she’s like in Season 3 when she actually shares a room with Flower.

LMAO I love that Thor calls it a Sorcerer’s window - he’s like “damn it, woman, I just want to see my people.”

Poor Thor, it’s been so long but he misses his people. On the other hand, Sam's busy losing her mind, Thor.

Aw, Sam.  My heart breaks for her.

This is interesting.  Trevor does this thing where he was going someplace and then stops weirdly when he notices who he’s looking for has been found is in that room.  He does the same thing in the Christmas special - so I wonder if he was looking for Hetty at the time???

Anyway, Boy, Trevor doesn’t take rejection well.  Before he was just a poor puppy excited to find someone and connect with someone, now, he’s like ‘fine, I'll be better off without you’.  

This leads into an interesting part of his psychology.  We know that he wants to be the big man around town, he wants to be the center of attention, he wants to have a connection with someone, and he wants to be included and wanted.  

And when he doesn’t get these things - he feels down and sad - which we see in one of the opening scenes, but quickly, he goes on the offense.  It’s only been like a day and Sam’s going through hell, but he (like ALL of the ghosts) only thinks about what he’s feeling and rejecting it.  He wants to mask his negative feelings and project them onto Sam.  

Thus, going for an offensive attack to get her attention - and it works, somewhat.  But also, it probably worked in life, too, hence doing this.  

Doesn’t excuse him, but I do think that he didn’t do this just to be a jerk, but because he’s just trying to deal with his own emotions in the wrong way is interesting. It doesn't make him any worse than the other ghosts that do the same in various instances.

Also, I think he didn’t start with it because he’s not really *that guy*.  He’s only doing it now because he couldn’t handle the rejection (which ISN’T okay). And he backs off quickly when she runs away to the hospital. We never see him do this, again.

Also, what is that face, Thor? You’re just like ‘whatever’.

And Hetty’s too busy trying to get Sam’s attention to interact with what Trevor’s doing here?  You’d think she’d defend her. Since she does - sort of - like Sam.

POOR SAM - She’s just like “God this is terrible”.

Trevor, boy, there’s nothing genius about this.  But I do love them all chasing her to the stairwell.

APPARENTLY, SAM CAN ESCAPE THEM - evidence?  They don’t go downstairs because “they are terrifying” - how are they terrifying??? I need to know.

is it because they smell? Is it because they are different? I just - need to know.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to reach out and chat :)

[jiminiminycrickerrttt]

I've had one hell of a week and to add on top of that the Queen of Short Stories, Alice Munro passed away. I thought I'd vent my frustrations in a way she'd hopefully approve of.

In order for a wildfire to be classified as 'out of control', the fire perimeter must be unestablished and the perimeter spread must not be contained. When the two-hour evacuation notice hit for parts of the city (though 'city' might be generous), wildfire MWF-017 had reached about 9,167 hectares and was about 13.5 kilometers from out local landfill and 13 kilometers from the intersection of two of our major highways. I had been at work at the time, sitting at my desk and reading the report sent to us by the municipality. There had not yet been an evacuation order, just an alert to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. I took a picture of the notice on my phone (which I'm not quite sure I was allowed to do), and sent it to my mother and a few of my friends in the area. My boss, Garth, came up behind me, noting the notice on my screen. He paced about the lobby for a few seconds before telling me that he'd 'be back in a bit'. He was always flitting in and out of the office, always exceptionally rushed and remarkably calm. Today, nothing was different. Nothing except the fact that he had hesitated for a microsecond too long while scanning through the notice. I chose to ignore my uncertainties and walked to the Subway next door to buy two six-packs of cookies.

My mom had told me the week prior to keep a to-go bag in case we needed to leave, which I had lied about packing. But the rest of the town (really, it's hard to call this place a city) had actually followed through. It was noon, not even twenty minutes after the evacuation alert, and the roads were packed. Before Garth had left, he had told me to drop off the graduation scrolls to the public and Catholic school boards, a ten minute round-rip on a typical day took me a total of thirty minutes. This may have been because of the increased traffic, or it may have been because I did not initially know where the school board offices were and had to use my phone to look up directions for buildings that were literally a block down the street. But I like to think it was because of the traffic. Before getting out of my car, I almost considered using the old box of masks in my glove-box, left over from the dark days. Though I quickly thought against it, what would the old white people think? I used the collar of my sweater to try and deflect some of the acrid campfire-smoked air from my lungs, it was largely ineffective. I grabbed the bundles of scrolls in my passenger seat and remembered to swiftly lower my sweater from my nose before entering the buildings.

Out of shame, I made myself drive back to the office without the crutch of a GPS. It worked, of course. I just had to cross one traffic light and turn into the parking lot, but I kept feeling as though I would get lost. The sky had been a clear blue the day before, even lacking the smell of smoke in the air. At that point, MWF-017 had only been about 8,045 hectares. But now the sky was starting to turn a sickly shade of grayish-orange. The smoke had blown in last night, I saw it first-hand, it prevented me from getting good photos of the aurora borealis. No matter, this was typical Alberta summer-time weather. We've all seen it before, last may during my spring semester (in an actual city) I really had worn my leftover facemasks when leaving the house. And while my friends about an hour south of us evacuated their homes, I invested in an anti-pollution serum which invariably made me break out even more. I don't recall if a drought had been declared then as it had for this year, it may have been the energy shortage back then. Or was that this fall? I may be mixing up my crises. Though I can say with certainty that there was another wave of COVID-19, and believe me, it was nasty.

Now back inside the blissfully clean-aired office, the news channels rotating between Alice Munro's death, Israel's refusal to comply with Hamas, the EPS being sicked on student protesters at the University of Alberta, and MWF-017 growing evermore in size, Garth called me to his desk. The winds had changed, they were no longer in our favour. The fire had grown to about 300 hectares since this morning, and the evacuation alerts, previously only for a few neighborhoods in the city would soon spread as the fire grew. You can go home, I'll give you the rest of the week off but you'll still get paid. You have friends down in Drayton, don't you? You guys can go down there. Or to Lac La Biche. They're setting up hotels for evacuees. Evacuees? I hadn't realized there was an evacuation order. There isn't... yet. Go home. Call your mother, tell her not to panic. And bring your work laptop with you.

[standing-wave-mag]

The Rural Alberta Advantage brings Prairie Nostalgia to Vancouver

I first fell in love with live music years ago while residing in Edmonton, Alberta. Back then, I coped with life by going to as many shows as possible, from shoebox restaurants along Whyte Ave to stadium events at Rexall Place,

When you live somewhere so long, there’s a certain pattern in the people and the culture at live shows that you begin to pick up on. Years later, even if you find yourself thousands of kilometers away, you can still see these familiarities in the right setting.

I wouldn’t call myself The Rural Alberta Advantage’s (The RAA’s) biggest fan, but their shows and the music that goes with them bring about all these familiar patterns and feelings I thought I’d forgotten.

During those years in Alberta, I got to see them a handful of times. It’s always extremely intimate to hear a band sing about your hometown and encapsulate everything it meant to live there in a specific time. It’s not until you move away you begin to appreciate this intimate feeling as nostalgia for the home you once knew.

So here I was, years later in Vancouver at the historic Commodore Ballroom, finding myself back at one of their shows. It was like not a day had passed, and I was back in the shoes of that tumultuous young adult who knew what living in Alberta meant to her. But at the same time, I was not the same; this was simply a glimpse of a life I once knew.

What made the RAA special first and foremost were the fans. Everyone around me felt so familiar, creating an air of nostalgia in the venue that even the fog couldn’t drown out. In my mind, we were from the same home the RAA embodies, all yearning for that time and place: a medley of fans both young and old. 

As the venue screens above the bar and tables ceased showing advertisements, they were replaced by a black and white B-roll of Alberta, with the RAA symbol watermarked overtop. This felt like a (welcome?) takeover; as we were being transported to the band’s world that night.

As the show went on, lead vocalist Nils Edenloff reminisced about writing “Vulcan, AB” in northern Ontario with other Canadian musicians. The song contains one of my favourite verses they have ever written: “you and me and the Enterprise, stuck in Vulcan, telling lies.” The allusion of smalltown Alberta to the worldly Star Trek Enterprise ship can be universally understood, even if one has never stepped foot in Vulcan.

Another highlight of the show was the absolute power and energy that drummer Paul Banwatt brought to the stage. Just before the encore, I glimpsed him discarding his sticks just to absolutely fist-punch the final rhythms into his kit. While keyboardist Amy Cole and Edenloff brought their own energy to the stage, Banwatt was by far the biggest highlight to me.

The closing song was their ever-popular single “Terrified.” As a testament to fans who have been around for over a decade, the encore was one of the most special and unique I have experienced in recent memory. When the band left the stage, a movement started within the crowd; one person to my left, vocalizing the wordless melody found throughout  the track. Soon the entire  ballroom was filled with everyone chanting this melody over and over again. The band then returned to stage and picked up their instruments joining in to round it out until the end.

This was the pure magic that could only be found in the people, the supporters, the fans of this band who have stuck by all these years.

If you’re ever itching to find the specific embodiment of Albertan nostalgia, The RAA can bring it to you anywhere, any time, no matter where you are.

[the-real-tc]

Fic Update! Bad Business: Ch. 12 A Place Called Heartland

Chapter 12:

A Place Called Heartland

***

To the childless wife he gives a home, and gladdens her heart with children.

- Ps. 113

***

[draft]

Hudson Hawk: Your Eye on Hudson

A BLOG

Bad Business in Hudson

If you've been following the local news lately — and it's hard not to — you'll be very aware of all the sinister events that have unfolded in our fair town over the past few weeks. Thanks to the dogged efforts of the Hudson Police and that of the neighbouring Calgary Metro Police, however, it looks like justice will prevail in the sordid murder and murder-for-hire cases that have come to light.

To recap: Mrs. Valerie Stanton of Briar Ridge Stables was shot to death while horseback riding up at Lookout Point. Also targeted for death was one Lisa Stillman of Fairfield Stables. One detail that came to light was that the horse Stanton was riding at the time of her death belonged to Stillman. This raised a troubling question: was Stillman the intended target with Stanton being the unfortunate victim of mistaken identity, or was it all a terrible hunting accident?

Nothing could have been further from the truth, as the culprits turned out to be much closer to home; their reasons much more disturbing. Facing various and sundry criminal charges are: Tanner Gunn, Theresa Haywood, Stanley Belmont, Jesse Stanton, and William Ulrich.

I know what you're probably wondering: Is Jesse Stanton related to Valerie Stanton? The answer is a resounding "Yes". He's the son of the same late Valerie Stanton, and Briar Ridge heir. He's been charged with soliciting a killer-for-hire to murder his mother. His reasons for so doing will probably come to light in the upcoming trial, or not. Whatever his reasons, what makes things all the more troubling is he decided to try to kill Lisa Stillman when the insurance payout for his mother's policy was held up due to the police investigation into her death.

Adam paused as he tried to summarize the facts of the case as he knew them. He stared at his laptop screen, wondering now if he had the right to be typing this story in his blog at all. After all, he knew the people involved. By now Georgie must have told the family at Heartland Ranch the Hudson Hawk was his chosen sobriquet.

An unconscious frown tugged at Adam's mouth. His conscience was nagging him. It had been easier when he could hide behind the anonymity of a screen name; he could pretend there was some distance between himself and the subject of his blog posts. Now...

So while he had the blessing of his parents to continue this blogging endeavour, Adam closed the file without saving it. Instead, he decided to check with Alberta Fish and Wildlife to see if they had anything new to report about the elusive bear that had been implicated in the attack on Herring and the man whose body he and Georgie discovered at the Dude Ranch. Doubtless when it was eventually found, it would be destroyed. Such would be the fate of any wild animal that targeted humans instead of other wild animals.

***

Monday, May 13, 2019

Somewhere on Highway 2, Due North.

"I'm glad she's finally feeling up to having visitors," Rachel said as Lou navigated the SUV to the hospital.

Lou glanced at her, then chanced a peek back at Ben, who was staring out the window at the passing scenery, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"It was driving me crazy having to wait," Rachel continued. "I still can't wrap my mind around everything that's happened. It's like some bizarre dream I'm waking up from. Well, nightmare is more like it. Thank God it's over."

"I can't believe everything that's happened, either," Lou quipped, thinking back to the night Amy shot Jesse, and how Chief Parker had been able to tell the rest of the family Lisa was alive.

Rachel's joy at learning her only sister had indeed survived the attempts on her life was tempered by the fact she had been led to believe the opposite.

"I thought I was coming out here to say 'goodbye' to her," Rachel commented, her voice just above a whisper. "I thought I was never going to see her again. And I know I shouldn't be upset the police couldn't tell us the truth right away—to protect her and all that—but I wish..."

"But it's gonna be okay now," Lou said reassuringly, filling in the silence when Rachel did not verbalize the rest of her train of thought. "She'll be so happy to see you two."

The rest of the family had elected to stay back at Heartland for the time being so as not to overwhelm the recovering patient. It was expected Lisa would be discharged within the week, anyway, and Georgie and Katie were already excitedly making plans for a 'Welcome Home' party of sorts, and the imminent arrival of Aunt Evelyn.

From his position in the backseat, Ben quietly spoke up: "I keep going over in my mind the time I spent at Briar Ridge. I remember being jealous of Jesse Stanton at the time because of all the 'toys' he had. He seemed to have anything and everything he wanted. I remember thinking how much I'd love to have a Ducati like his, and how my parents' splitting up meant I might be able to guilt one or both of them into getting me one. Then I thought, hey, maybe my rich aunt could. What she did buy was jumps for Red so I could practice at Heartland. It took me days to finally thank her. Days. What a shallow, ungrateful idiot I was.

"To think... to think Jesse was riding that same damned bike when he shot my aunt..."

"For what it's worth, Ben," Rachel eventually uttered with a smirk, "There's no way I would have been giving you a Ducati back then, no matter how guilty I felt about the divorce, and neither would your Aunt Lisa."

***

South Calgary Health Campus

Lou tapped her knuckles lightly on the door to Lisa's room.

"Yeah, come on in," Jack called from within.

Upon hearing this response, Lou let Ben and Rachel go ahead of her. Despite expecting this visit from her family, Lisa felt a lump forming in her throat at the sight of her sister and nephew, and instant tears flooded her eyes. Rachel crossed the floor quickly to her sister. Lisa readily received the gentle but fervent hug that lasted several seconds.

"Hey, Rachel," Lisa uttered. "Thanks for coming. I'm so glad to see you."

"I thought I'd lost you," Rachel murmured, voice choked with emotion as her eyes brimmed.

"I know," Lisa responded as Rachel released her. "I'm sorry. You know I never wanted to put you—any of you—through that. But the decision to keep you in the dark wasn't mine. I never wanted to cause you any grief—"

"We're just glad you're going to be okay, Aunt Lisa," Ben put in hurriedly, also approaching Lisa for a hug of his own.

"Ben," Lisa said warmly while accepting his embrace, "it's so good to see you."

"Ben's right," Rachel said. "All that matters is you're going to be okay. The people who did this to you are in custody and you're still with us. That's what's important. Oh, my goodness, let me look at you..."

Rachel spent a few moments taking in the bandage that still graced the left side of Lisa's forehead, and then noticed the sling on her arm. What she could not see beneath the hospital gown were the sutures sealing the incision where the chest tube had been inserted, and the additional bandage covering the patched-up bullet wound.

Shaking her head, Rachel said, "I'm so glad you're alive, sis. You look like you've been through hell and back."

"I feel like it, too," Lisa uttered wryly.

Jack rubbed her forearm in a comforting manner at this comment. He could not abide thinking she was in any discomfort.

"Rachel, I'd like you to meet Jack," Lisa said, motioning towards her husband.

"Jack," Rachel said with a wide smile, moving to hug the man her sister married. "At long last, we meet in person. I'm sorry it took something like this to bring us out here."

"Good to finally see you in person, too, Rachel," Jack said heartily, holding her tightly for a few moments before releasing her.

"Hi, Jack," Ben said, reaching over to shake the older man's hand. "It's been a while."

"Yes it has!" Jack rejoined, grasping his step-nephew's hand. "It's good to see you again, man."

"Jack... I want to thank you for being there for my sister when that monster tried to... you know..." Rachel trailed off. "You saved her life."

"Yes, Jack," Lisa said, sending a broad smile in his direction. "My hero..."

Jack did not wish to think about or speak any more of the night he found hitman Earl McCann trying to suffocate Lisa, so he quickly shifted the conversation to a more mundane topic.

"Well, I guess Aunt Evelyn should be getting in soon?" he asked, doing his best to sound upbeat about it.

"Yes, Grandpa," answered Lou, also sensing his discomfort about the former subject. "Her flight gets in tomorrow night."

"Oh, Aunt Evelyn," Lisa groaned, closing her eyes. "She'll never forgive me for putting her through all this!"

"Of course she will," Rachel rebutted. "I talked to her yesterday. Lisa, all she cares about is that you're alive and safe. You said it yourself: the decision to keep what was going on confidential wasn't in your hands. You were at death's door at the time, for heaven's sake! Nobody's blaming you."

At this, Lisa nodded. "Thanks, Rach. I needed to hear that."

"Anytime," Rachel said. "Someone's got to knock some sense into you."

"Right," Lisa said. "And thank you for not making cracks about my 'hard head'."

"Oh, rats! That was going to be my next joke," said Rachel, feigning disappointment.

"Well, I, for one, am glad for your 'hard head', Lis," Jack said with a small smile. He traced a thumb near the bandage below her hairline, once again so grateful the weapon Jesse had used was not as deadly as he intended it to be.

***

A Couple Days Later

Heartland Ranch

"They're here!" Katie cried excitedly, rushing from the porch into the house upon seeing Jack and Lisa pulling up into the yard.

"We're home, Lis," Jack said, putting the truck in park.

"Hmm," Lisa murmured, slowly peeling open her eyes. She had not intended to fall asleep during the drive home, but too many nights of poor sleep in the hospital meant her body craved rest. Jack's steady driving and the purr of the truck's engine proved to be a fairly good natural sedative.

"Wow, how long was I out?" she asked.

"About half an hour," Jack chuckled. "I didn't realise my company was that boring."

"Oh, you," Lisa said, realising he was jesting. Now that she was coming to full awareness after her brief nap, she finally noticed the yard was not quite as empty as it normally was. "Um, Jack... What's with all the cars and trucks..?"

"You have a lot of people who wanted to welcome you home, Lis," Jack explained. "Come on. Let's get you inside."

Jack opened the door on Lisa's side and carefully eased her down. "Slow and steady, now," he advised, gingerly supporting her on the way to the house.

Though she was feeling miles better than when she first woke in the hospital, Lisa allowed Jack this expression of care for her well-being. After all, she knew first-hand how challenging it could be when the person you loved most was resistant to help of any sort.

Almost as soon as she entered the house, Lisa was met by Evelyn.

"Darling," the older woman uttered, taking her niece's face in her hands before hugging her tenderly. "I'm so relieved you weren't taken from us like that... When Jack called me... oh, I thought my heart wouldn't be able to endure it. But you're here. It's a miracle."

"I'm so sorry I had to put you through that, Auntie," Lisa said sincerely.

"Nonsense," Evelyn stated flatly. "Lou and Rachel explained everything. The police did what they had to do to keep you safe and to flush out the guilty parties."

"Then I'm so glad you understand," said Lisa with relief.

"Jack, don't be a stranger," Evelyn chided, at last noticing him. "Come here. I want to kiss the man who saved my niece's life."

"Hello, Evelyn," Jack said, allowing her to give him a peck on the cheek.

Evelyn leaned in to Lisa. "Doesn't he ever shave, darling?" she asked in a low voice, though Jack managed to hear, anyway.

"Only when the mood strikes him," Lisa answered with a chortle, patting Jack's face playfully. "But I love him, anyway."

"Yes," Evelyn said seriously. "And he loves you. And that's really all that matters, isn't it?"

Tim approached just then. "Everybody's waiting in the living room," he announced, somewhat impatiently, then amended his tone. "Is Lisa okay?"

"I'm fine, Tim," Lisa replied. "I just didn't expect something like this when I got home."

"Let's go," Evelyn said perkily. "Can't keep your well-wishers waiting."

Lisa sank into the middle of the couch, deeply touched by the gathering of dear family and friends that afternoon. She was further impressed by the efforts Katie and Georgie put in to decorating the space to enhance the celebratory mood of her return home.

"Do you like what we did, Lisa?" asked Katie with expectant enthusiasm, grinning widely. Georgie stood by, also waiting to hear what Lisa would say.

"It's beautiful, both of you," Lisa responded, taking in the large 'WELCOME HOME, LISA' banner, streamers, balloons, and cheery tea lights. "This was so very thoughtful of you. So special."

Heartened by this praise, Katie zipped over to where Peter stood with Lou and happily told them that Lisa loved her handiwork.

Everyone took time to express to Lisa their happiness that she was going to be okay after her brushes with death. But there were two people in particular Lisa knew she was more than obliged to see and to publicly commend.

"Ty; Scott," Lisa spoke up, grabbing the attention of everyone. The two veterinarians looked uncomfortable under the sudden scrutiny of the others.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your quick actions that day out on the road," said Lisa. "I don't remember any of it, but I'm eternally grateful you stopped and helped."

"Of course, Lisa," Ty said.

"We would have stopped for anyone in distress, Lisa," Scott added. "It just so happened we knew you."

Neither man was able to say anything further, as memories of that incident were still difficult and disturbing.

"We're just glad you made it, Lisa," Ty said.

"Right," Scott said in agreement.

"Thank you, both of you," Lisa said, once again fighting back tears.

An hour or so slipped by. Lisa could feel her energy starting to wane; friends such as Caleb, Jen, Mitch, and Scott made their departure. At length, only the family remained in the living room.

Before it got to be too late, and before Lou lost her nerve, there was something she had to get off her chest. "I know we don't always see eye-to-eye, Lisa," Lou said tentatively, "but the truth is you're very special to me, and to all of us here. It felt like losing my Grandma Lyndy and my mother all over again when we thought the worst had happened to you..."

Lou suddenly could not continue.

"I felt the same way, Lisa," Amy put in. "After my miscarriage, and after everything you shared with me, I was devastated at the prospect I was facing another personal loss... but you're here, and I'm so glad."

"And I..." Georgie started, but was unsure if she could continue. She looked to her mother, who nodded some encouragement. "I didn't know what to think of you when I first met you, Lisa. I thought you were some rich snob who was going to take Jack's time and attention away from me—"

"Oh, Georgie, honey..." Lisa murmured.

"I never got to say I was sorry for that," Georgie went on in a rush. "And Lisa, I'm sorry for all the mean things I said about you. I'm so sorry. I-I never knew my grandparents or my great-grandparents, for that matter, but you've been everything I could have ever wanted in a great-grandmother, and more."

"Thank you for that," Lisa said, eyes misting, looking at the family that had been grafted onto her heart. "Thank you all. And I want you to know I feel the same way. You know, I had a full life before I met Jack. A life I thought I loved. I thought I was living my dream life. But I look back now and see I didn't realise how sad and empty my heart was. I love you all very much. My life and my heart are full now."

***

Later that Evening

Dinnertime was over. Jack helped settle an exhausted Lisa into bed where she dropped off to sleep in minutes. It was early still, and after all the social activity of the day, Jack decided he needed to clear his head for a bit, so he brewed a cup of tea and escaped to the porch.

He had been there only a few minutes when he heard the sure creak of the door. Someone was coming outside and he turned expectantly to see who it was.

"There you are," Rachel said to Jack, softly closing the screen door while exiting the house.

"Hi, there," Jack said amiably from his position on the porch bench. "Have a seat."

"Thank you," Rachel said, and joined him. A few seconds later, she added: "It's every bit as lovely here as Lisa and Ben described, Jack."

Jack merely nodded.

"We haven't had a chance to really talk yet," said Rachel.

"No, we haven't," Jack said in agreement, though he wondered what Rachel might want to talk about.

"It's years too late, but I want to thank you for offering to put Ben up when I was going through my divorce," Rachel said. "At first, I wasn't thrilled with the idea when Lisa told me that 'plans had changed'; that he wasn't going to be at Fairfield; that he was going to be boarding at some place called 'Heartland'. But after Ben got over his own issues, he admitted he actually didn't mind this place so much, and he was sorry he didn't appreciate it enough at the time."

Jack nodded again, thinking back to how sullen Ben had been in those days. "Divorce is never easy on anyone, especially when there's kids in the mix," he said, remembering some of the ways Lou and Amy struggled to cope in the wake of Tim and Marion's divorce.

"I love my sister to bits, Jack," Rachel said. "She's my big sister, you know? I idolized her growing up. I was relieved she would be the one to take over the family business because I sure didn't want to be responsible for it. She seemed to be happy when she married Dan and moved to the U.S., but we both know how that all turned out. That time in her life changed her, Jack, and not for the better. I wish only happiness and love for her, and I'm so glad you're in her life, because it's clear you're the one who can provide those things for her."

"Well, I'm glad she's in my life, too," Jack admitted, though that hardly covered the length and the breadth and the height of things when it came to expressing how he felt about his wife.

"I don't know what fair wind blew you two together," Rachel said, "but I pray you two stick together."

"That's the plan," Jack said, thinking back to that evening at the Open House when he first laid eyes on Lisa Stillman. Never in a million years would he have guessed what the future would bring him after that chance encounter.

"You wouldn't happen to have a brother who's just like you out there somewhere, eh, Jack?" Rachel said with a laugh.

"No, no. Just me," Jack responded with a smile and a quick laugh of his own. "I think they broke the mold when they made me."

Rachel looked over at him, seeing his features in the light streaming from the kitchen window. "I think you're right about that, Jack. My sister is a very lucky woman."

"I think I am the lucky one," Jack said with sincerity. How many people get a second chance at love in their lives?

"Yeah..." Rachel said. "Well, goodnight, Jack. Thanks for loving my sister the way you do. You've saved her life in more ways than you'll ever know."

The younger Stillman sister leaned over and gave Jack a kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Rachel," Jack replied.

***

Epilogue

[jmagnabo92]

A Dream Come True - Ch 2

Ch. 2 - Getting Out of There - AO3

The four newly alive ghosts go adventuring into town and while three of them are eager to reconnect with family, one of them is being a little stubborn about it until fate forces their hand.

***

It didn’t take long for them to get themselves sorted out (including healing Flower and Steph’s wounds or at least patching them up) and they were off exploring well before Alberta would be set to wake up.  Sam had given them her phone in case anything happens, which was nice.

           Unfortunately, Trevor didn't realize how early it was - too eager to leave - and so they ended up driving around for a while until they stopped at the park in the middle of town.  It was still a little chilly, but it was nice to be able to feel the weather.

           Trevor used Sam's phone to play some music that Flower and Steph insisted that they dance to until he and Pete got tired and sat on the swings while the girls danced.

           "So, how come you were so insistent on leaving if we're just enjoying the park?"

           "I didn't realize how early it was and I just missed being away from the mansion, you know?” Trevor offers, despite that not being the reason.  He just wants to avoid Hetty, and it’s the perfect excuse.  “Aren't you tired of the mansion?"

           “Well, yeah, but I mean – you didn’t even want to wait for Alberta or Hetty to potentially wake up alive.  And you barely waited for Flower to get dressed before you rushed us all out here to sit on the swings at a park before sunrise.”

           “The sun’s up now,” Trevor shrugs.

           “Come on, buddy,” Pete says, giving him a look.  “Did Jay say something to rush you out?  I mean, I know you didn’t have the best relationship – and it’s not fair that he puts the blame on you for certain things…”

           “No, no – Jay was perfectly fine, actually,” Trevor states.  He’s actually surprised that Jay was so friendly this morning.  “He gave me clothes, fed me, we had perfectly pleasant conversations – it was fine.”

           “Then what are you running from?”

           “I’m not running from anything –” Trevor states before Sam’s phone rings.

           He had dropped a text to Jeremy to call as soon as he woke up to call Sam’s cell via facetime.  

           Trevor’s Jeremy appears on the screen.

           Trevor doesn’t bother finishing his thought as he accepts the call, “Hey Bro.”

           Jeremy’s eyes bug out the second he sees Trevor.  “Oy gevalt, T, is that really you?”

           “It’s really me – I don’t really have any details, but I’m kind of – suddenly alive, again.”

           Jeremy is utterly speechless.

           “Not what you thought you’d wake up to this morning, huh?”

           “Definitely not.”

           Flower and Steph come up from behind.  “Who’s this?”

           “My brother – my twin brother,” Trevor states.  He hadn’t come to his memorial because it’d been too hard, but when Sam mentioned the possibility of Trevor being there (when Esther mentioned feeling his presence), Trevor had taken the opportunity to reach out.  They’d been in contact, but they hadn’t actually seen each other.

           “Nice to meet you officially man, I’m Flower, this is Steph.”

           “And I’m Pete.”

           Jeremy shakes his head.  “So, ALL of you are alive?”

           “Yeah.  We have a theory on timing and stuff, and we don’t know how it happened, but I – I had to reach out as soon as I could,” Trevor states.  “I missed you, bud.”

           Jeremy grins.  “I missed you, too – and I’m coming to get you.  I’ll have to end my trip early, but I should be there tonight – there’s no way that I’m not jumping to see you as soon as I can – and you have got to call mom and dad – they won’t believe if I do it.”

           “I was a bit nervous about that since we kind of just buried me –”

           “They’ll be thrilled to have you back,” Jeremy states.  “We’ve all missed you so much, you have no idea.  Still, I want to be the one to bring you home – so wait for me at the mansion?”

           “Of course – although we’re currently at the park, I was hoping to buy some things and –”

           “No worries – nothing’s changed.  Help yourself to our shared account.  I imagine that you’ll probably want to help out your ghost family, so we’ll probably cash out some of the stocks, but that will have to wait until Monday.  Speaking of – what are you going to do about IDs and stuff?”

           “Thought I’d visit an old friend – figure his dirty little secret could be of some use, but that’ll wait until Monday, too.”

           “You’re going to blackmail Ari?” Pete asks, appalled.

           “Who’s Ari?” Steph asks as Trevor says, “Absolutely.”

           “Trevor, that’s illegal.”

           “So is throwing my body in the lake – besides, we’re suddenly alive after a number of years, we kind of need to do it so we can enjoy our lives for a second time,” Trevor states.  “Otherwise, they could lock us up or something.”

           “Why would they do such a thing?”

           “Because we’re suddenly alive again and we were ghosts and – I don’t know, they just could, alright?” Trevor asks, somewhat annoyed.  “And Ari’s going to help us be legit because that’s what he gets for throwing me in the lake.”

           Pete frowns, but Jeremy agrees.  

           “Sounds like a good plan – and you know how much I wanted to punish Ari after I found out, so this works well for that.”

           Trevor rolls his eyes.  Jeremy had always hated Ari because he figured that Ari was just using Trevor (and not actually caring about him).  To be honest, Trevor had an ulterior motive for using Ari to establish themselves – finally confronting him after discovering the truth.  

           “Anyway, thanks for the money support, I’ll see you tonight?”

           “Yes – I’ll be there as soon as I can and make sure you call mom and dad AND you better plan to go to the doctor once you’re legit – we aren’t losing you again.”

           Trevor rolls his eyes playfully.  “Yeah, J, that’s the top of my list.”

           “Don’t be sarcastic, T, you’re not allowed to die on us, again – you’re going to the doctor if I have to drag you there myself.”

           “I was being somewhat serious,” Trevor states.  “I promise.”

           “Good – see you later.”

           “See you!”

           Jeremy disappears from the screen, and Trevor says, “Do we want to try calling anyone else?  Or do we want to go shopping first now that places are opening up?”

           “Shopping!”

           “Shopping it is.”

***

           They spent the morning shopping and adventuring around town.  They discovered that while they had suddenly become alive, no other ghosts in town had – although they could see them.  It definitely made their adventure a lot more interesting.  

           When it became a more normal hour, they'd gone to Daisy's Coffee Shop because Flower had wanted to see if she could talk to Ira.  It was lucky that he ended up being there, and the reunion for the two them was surprisingly emotional.  

           Trevor always knew that Flower hid behind her ditzy personality to keep the other ghosts at a distance just like he did with his frat boy persona.  It was far more obvious when seeing her reunited with Ira because she obviously feels free to be emotional.

           In an effort to give them some privacy, the other three opted to sit a distance away and upon seeing Stephanie look on in envy, Trevor offered to look up her parents.  She'd been nervous, but with Trevor's encouragement worked through that, and was now on FaceTime with them.

           Trevor couldn't help smiling over at her and through the open door of Ira's office where Flower looks just as happy before returning to his paper and coffee.  It almost feels like a normal day.  Like everything was meant to be.

           Eventually though, Ira had to get back to work and Steph's parents had a few things they had to do to get her room ready for her to come home to, so they went back to exploring (although Ira and Steph's parents were invited to dinner that night).

           Of course as they explored, Pete kept trying to figure out why Trevor kept coming up with reasons that they shouldn’t return to the mansion just yet, even as he got texts from Jay (and Sam) that yes, Alberta, Hetty and now, Isaac are all alive, again.  Unfortunately for Nigel, he does not appear to have gotten the same luck as the rest of them.  

           To be honest, Trevor’s not too upset about that given Nigel’s behavior of late.  Then again, maybe he should be grateful to Nigel for helping him realize that he was an embarrassment to Hetty and a toy to mess with.  

           Still, knowing that Hetty’s alive did not make him want to return to the mansion, but it was getting rather hard to distract the others from returning – well, Pete.

           “Come on, why won’t you tell me what’s going on,” Pete says, as he follows Trevor outside the store where Steph and Flower are trying to find some clothes that they prefer.  

           “There’s nothing going on, Pete,” Trevor states, rubbing his thumb in his hand as he lies.  An old habit that he never bothered to break.

           Pete gives him a look.  “We’ve been stuck together for twenty-two years in the mansion – you think I don’t know by now when something’s bothering you?”

           “It’s nothing.”

           “I thought we were friends.”

           “We are friends,” Trevor insists.  “It’s not exactly abnormal for me to –”

           “Except it is – you shouldn’t have wanted to leave so soon.  It doesn’t make sense – not with how close you’ve become with the other ghosts,” Pete states.  “Alberta was practically like a mother to you, and you didn’t want to wait for her?  Isaac has become close to you after the frat thing, and you didn’t want to show him the world as it is now?  It’s not like you to not face things head-on.  Something is going on here.”

           Trevor doesn’t bother to answer as he plays a game on Sam’s phone.  Pete’s absolutely right.  He has gotten closer to all of the ghosts over the years, but especially in the last few months.  He’d always been especially close to Alberta since she saw something in him that she seemed to admire.  Maybe it was his fun-loving attitude or his reckless abandon on life, but Pete was right, Alberta often acted like a mother to him and leaving without her this morning had been difficult, but he had wanted to avoid Hetty.  

           That was a bit more important to him now, and besides, he’ll have to go back eventually.  

           “Is this about the oh-so-great Lady of the House?” Pete questions.

           Trevor’s head snaps up.  “What – what are you talking about?”

           “It is!” Pete states.  “Trevor, whatever is going on with you and Hetty, you can’t run from it.”

           “You don’t know what you’re talking about, okay?” Trevor states.  “There’s nothing going on between Hetty and me, but you know what – you’re right.  I am avoiding the mansion, but you know what?  That’s normal – you’ve been stuck in that house for thirty-eight years, why wouldn’t you want to get out and explore?  Why would you want to just wait around and not leave the second you can?  I mean, really, Pete, I get it – you can finally talk to Jay because you’re not a ghost anymore, and maybe you and Alberta can have a thing now, although, you deserve someone who likes you for who you are – but do you really not understand my need to escape?  I mean, hell, don’t you want to go see your daughter – and have her see you?  Why wasn’t that the first thing you wanted to do after getting that arrow out of your neck?  I mean, I didn’t hesitate to contact my parents and brother.”

           “That’s different!”

           “How?”

           “Because you’ve been in direct contact with them since they found your body a few weeks back since you can use your power to write to them – I’ve been gone for thirty-eight years, and they have no idea I was there when they came by the mansion!”

           “So – I still don’t see the issue, you have another chance –”

           “You don’t get it!��

           “Then explain it me!”

           “What if this isn’t permanent?  What if it’s just one day or one month or one year or whatever – what if when they finally get used to me being alive again that I suddenly die again, I don’t want to put them through that!”

           “Isn’t some more time better than nothing?  Don’t you think you’d regret it if you don’t?” Trevor counters.  “You’ve spent thirty-eight years thinking about all of things you’ve missed out on - wishing that things had been different, living your afterlife with regrets and yet, here are you – denying yourself what you’ve been wanting for years, why?”

           Before Pete can respond, a new voice enters the conversation: “Pete?”

           They both turn to their left and spy Carol, Jerry, and Laura who appear to be walking out of the restaurant next door – although they look to be frozen in the doorway – how long had they been there?  

It’s Jerry that spoke.  Despite the fact that Jerry was a cheater and had been cheating with Carol for ages before Pete died, the man still did seem to genuinely care for Pete.  At least more than Ari had cared for Trevor despite the thing they had going on.

           “Uh – yeah…” Pete says, hesitantly.  He looks like a deer caught in headlights.  Which is fair since he’d just explained that he is hesitant about reaching out to his family.

           It’s incredibly awkward since Pete looks exactly the same as when he died, and they have no idea how much they overheard of their discussion.

           Deciding to break the ice, Trevor reaches out his hand, “Hi, I’m Trevor.”

           Jerry’s the first to shake his offered hand before Carol and Laura follow suit.  It’s still quiet, so Trevor says, “I know it’s going to sound weird, but Pete and I were ghosts at the B&B where he – we – died.  Obviously before it was a B&B.  We’re not really sure what happened this morning, but suddenly, we’re alive again –”

           He’s cut off by Laura pushing passed him to hug Pete.  “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

           “It’s really me, Pumpkin,” Pete says, hugging her tightly and patting her back.  “I’m sorry that I couldn’t let you know I was there – Sam pretty much adopted a ‘help the ghosts but don’t tell’ policy since who would believe her, right?  It’s too weird.  So…”

           “That explains so much.  About the manual, about asking to be a part of the family newsletter, about some of the things she said that day,” Carol trails off.  “If you were there, then…”

           Pete nods, glancing between Carol and Jerry then at Laura, who evidently knows.  “Yeah, yeah, I heard and no, I had no idea.”

           “I’m so sorry – I really am…”

           “I believe you.  It was just hard to hear,” Pete says, cutting her off.  “And uh, there’s obviously a lot to deal with now – we don’t know what happened or why, but –”

           “We heard a little bit of your – uh – argument,” Laura says.  “For the record, I agree with Trevor.  Even if it’s just an hour or a day or whatever – I would rather have that than nothing.”

           “Trev’s right about something – that’s so weird,” Flower says, skipping out of the store with Stephanie in tow.  “Hey, they look familiar.”

           Her second sentence sounded more like something she was saying to her fellow ghosts, as if forgetting that they weren’t invisible anymore.  This thought was aided by Flower bursting out about how Jerry had taken care of Carol’s sexual needs that Pete hadn’t been able to satisfy and wondering out loud what it was and if Pete had thanked him for taking it off his plate.  

           Pete’s eyes widen and he looks to Trevor for help as his family looks appalled.    

           “Oy vey,” Trevor says, giving himself a face palm.  “Flower, can I talk to you for a second?  Over there.”

           Flower opens her mouth to probably refuse him, but a look from Pete leads her to following Trevor a distance away.  

           “Flower, I’m going to preface this by saying – you know I love you – but you can’t just say things like that anymore,” Trevor states when he turns back to her a distance away from the others.  

           “Why not?” Flower asks, looking genuinely confused.

           “Because you shouldn’t be saying things like that in the first place.”

           “But – but no one ever said anything before,” Flower says, looking genuinely concerned.

           Trevor feels bad, but Flower couldn’t just go out into the world and just say whatever, she’ll end up saying the wrong thing to somebody and get into trouble.  

           “We never said anything because we love you and we’re used to you – you’re Flower, it’s just part of who you are, but now – we’re alive again – and I don’t want you to say something to the wrong person and get hurt.”

           Flower frowns.  “Maybe being alive again isn’t so great.”

           He offers her a hand on her shoulder, “It’ll just take time, but I just want you to be aware of a potential… issue.”

           Flower nods as she gives him a hug.  “Thanks – I should go apologize.”

           “Yeah, I would.”

           They return to the group, where Flower apologizes and explains that her mind is still a little messed up from the drugs.

           “That’s okay, I’m sure it’s all an adjustment,” Carol offers.  “But we shouldn’t be discussing this on the sidewalk.”

           “Exactly,” Trevor states.  “We kind of forgot that other people can hear us, but I texted Jay and he said that you all can come for dinner, if you’d like?”

           Laura lights up.  “We’d be delighted.”

           “Great.”

[chameleon777-me]

I have an incredible announcement to make! In 2021, I was given the opportunity to be part of a miniseries called Angel Dust made in Medicine Hat by Break The Chain Films. The distributor is Factory Film Studio. I was given the role of Kim after auditioning. It was a small scene, but it meant so much to me to be a part of this project because I have been acting/entertaining in various forms since I was a teenager and it is one of my careers. I personally appear in a scene within Episode 2, but I encourage you to watch the whole series because everyone involved worked so hard to bring it to life! Bedsides, the full credits don't appear until episode 4 and they are EXTREMELY important. The miniseries was made by Break the Chain Films and distributed by Factory Film Studio. My scene and a lot of other scenes were filmed in beautiful Southern Alberta, specifically Medicine Hat.  Southern Alberta is severely underutilized when it comes to filming any type of major on-screen production and that needs to change. This area has economic resources, natural advantages, and highly talented actors and crew that would be a prime asset to any major production! @primevideoca @thedanielbaldwin #acting #actor #entertainment #television #series #production #alberta #southernalberta #albertafilm #keepalbertarolling #hollywood #spiritualjourney #spirituality #spiritual #battle #journey #demons #angels https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj1u9eGLUfj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[spaceumbredoggos]

I might get canceled for saying this, so I apologize in advance. But I am no longer answering asks about Gaza and Palestine. Especially when there’s active genocide in the US as we speak.

There was recently a shooting in Georgia. My first college PE class was a self defense class where I learned how to disarm guns. I truly believe we are one election away from a dystopian nightmare where we pay with the blood of our children.

They get rid of phones in schools so that we can’t call our loved ones to tell them our goodbyes. My art class teacher immediately pointed out where to hide from a school shooter. And my class is at 6-9 at night in Southern California.

Meanwhile, states are trying to take away any rights that don’t belong to cis hetero white men. They’re trying to make being queer a sex crime and punishing those sex crimes with death. Conservative white men want to create a fascist nation, and once they get into power they will be unstoppable. Sure things might be bad in Gaza and Palestine, but they’ll get a lot worse if Trump gets elected.

Go ahead and cancel me for saying this, but when we’re one election away from being in a state of total fascism and genocide against queer people, we can’t really focus on issues abroad like Palestine.

I don’t want to have to fear going to school and create a playlist I have to listen to in my final moments due to being shot for being queer. I don’t want to have to sleep with one eye open.

The right just wants more workers to oppress. They want to keep money in the greedy talons of the dragons that they feel should control society. They lie through their teeth and spread hate, misinformation, and hoaxes with the STD’s they give to the women they screw over. They scapegoat whoever they can to draw attention to so that they can keep the heat off themselves. If Trump gets elected, nowhere is safe. You may think that you can simply move out of the country, when there’s bigots everywhere that can rise to power now that they’re emboldened by Trump. Alberta Canada is already trying to pass anti-lgbt bills.

We are witnessing the active attempt to eradicate morals from society in the name of a false god. Actually decent healthcare, shelter, food, water, and safety is actively being taken away from people in our own country. Many of them are disabled. Many of them are queer. Many of them are women.

Another thing, you know how teachers are complaining on how far behind Gen Alpha is? And how bottom of the barrel content farms that show violent and pornographic content gets targeted to kids? Also notice how overstimulating some of these videos are (I’m looking at you, Cocomelon.) Meanwhile, KOSA is just trying to ban queer spaces and trying to keep people in abusive relationships. It’s late stage capitalism at its finest. So many people are suffering.

We can’t just focus on what’s happening in Gaza when our own kids can’t seem to get off their screens and read. I’d be damned if it’s found out that those shitty content farms that leech off of indie projects are in line with rich white conservatives that want to eradicate literacy to breed the ultimate worker for their own twisted purposes.

I know that last paragraph was controversial for me to say as an aspiring content creator, but I truly believe that there can be a way for content creators to exist in this world without making illiterate kids. There should be regulations in place that keeps young children off of highly addictive platforms such as TikTok and YouTube shorts. There should be better systems in place for content creators that emphasizes quality over quantity. Bring dislikes back. There is room for genuinely creative content creators to grow and share their platform, whilst keeping the scum away from vulnerable kids. There’s a place for porn on the internet, and it should be kept away from kids.

In synopsis, how can we focus on Gaza when there is active genocide in our own country and active attempts to create denial. Hey furry hackers, maybe target those content farm channels next! I betcha my soul you’ll find that the algorithm that YouTube and TikTok praises so much thrives off of feeding kids stupidity as some grand master plan by the possibly conservative white male CEO’s that want to keep kids stupid and poor just to keep brainwashing propaganda onto them. Where is critical thinking skills and basic reading comprehension?

Wow. This turned from a rant on school shootings to my unbridled hatred towards content farms and how fucked up Gen Alpha is. I’ve definitely been chronically online for too long. But yeah, the YouTube algorithm supports shitty content and hates genuinely good content. Sponsorships are only helping genuine creators so much, as well as genuinely good merch. And AI will only make things so so much worse.

I have a project for the furry hackers. Attack generative Open AI. (Yeah, I’m prolly gonna quit Figgs AI because I’m feeling hardcore AI addiction again. It’s hurting my ability to create content. The site’s dying anyways.) And attack content farms too. Maybe it’s time for me to get into IT. Gonna look at computer classes. It can’t be too hard, right?

I may be either spewing a shit load of nonsense with the content farm shit, or I’m hitting the nail on the head. But there goes my ADHD. But yeah. I can’t answer asks on Gaza anymore. I am so sorry if I let people down because of this.

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Agh crap xd

See I kind of want Isaac to tell Nigel but also not xd

Maybe the puritan will remind him of his love lol

XD

Alberta o.o xD

HETTY XD

"My dear Isaac" STOPPP 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

Honeyyy he's gonna tell him isn't he xDD idk he might not

I don't think that's gonna put his mind at ease xD

Isaaaa xD

SIR

Maybe he just left xD

I mean it's a good question but- AH CRAP NIGEL LOOKS SUSPICIOUS

Isaac control your reactions more after this please xD

But hey he won't be here :D

YESS hallelujah :D

Isaaaac WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT CONTROLLING YOUR EXPRESSIONS

Sir 😭

Does Nigel even know he was the stripper xD

ISAAAAC

Okay he does know

That does make this worse but at least we don't have to explain xd

Yeah because that's a casual reaction Isaac 😑😐

Y'all I swear if I have to lose Jacob and Zach and Jerome and Asher, AND NIGEL AND ISAAC-

I'm gonna lose it

It'll be fine :))

It'll aallll be fiiiine

This has happened before (basically) with them and they'll be fiiiinee 😌😌😌

AH CRAP I HAD TO GO FOR A SECOND AND FORGOT I WAS HERE 😭

Auwgh gosh

At least with live TV I can just sit there and plug my ears and turn away so I can only see a tiny corner of the screen xd

With this I have control to pause it lol

Another 6 minutes after 25 minutes xD

AGH CRAP

He sees xd 😭

Isaac. You are not capable of a nonchalant reaction

Oof 😭😭💔😳 o.o

Y'all I'm stressingggg 😭😭

NO PLEASE RUN AWAY I NEED THE BREAK

AUAUUUGH 😭 y'all help I'm not gonna make it through this

Sir 💀 now is not the time xD

Yeah that joke doesn't help o.o xD

Y'all I'm stressed

I'm not too stressed because I believe they'll be fine but like y'all it hurts me 😭😭

Okay but that doesn't mean that he doesn't love you!! Bad question to ask!!

Okay but no was his first answer 👀

We can salvage this xd 😭

See the reason I wanted more time was for Isaac to have time to process his feelings 😭 like in 2x18 xdd

And realize it was all chill!!

Then again maybe they need to have this conversation before that xd

Okay let's not call it lustfulness 💀

ISAAACC

Sir I'm gonna kill you

Ik you're already dead but xd

My point is I DON'T THINK NOW IS THE TIME TO MENTION IMPERFECTIONS

Exactly I'm Nigel 😭

Okay well these are even tinier than I thought lol

AH CRAP

Bro's still not over that 😭

Not saying he should or shouldn't be I'm just like guys xd

Return of we were on a respite xD

I swear if he says something like "maybe we should be on another one" I am gonna lose it

It better be

Okay I do like the earnesty here though Isaac :')

Nahh that's a good thing Nigel :D

I'm trusting this music :)

Oogh gosh

"That was a pretty good trade" SLFGDKHS XDD

Okay I think I can trust this music :))

Yess there is

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

THE GRAB :'D

H E L P

OUAGH and that classic emotional Isaac whisper 😭😭❤️

We love that for us :')

AWWWW

See you saying it instinctively makes me believe it and believe you believe it :')) you knew it deep down 🥰🥰 :'D

AWWW :'))

Okay is the ox thing continuing xD

Okay no more war jokes Isaac leave it on a win xD

At this very moment o.o slfkdhjs??

Well great :DD 🥰🥰

Hallelujah phew lol

Now you just have to deal with that puritan ghost xd

She better not somehow permanently kill one of them or something I swear xD

[ledenews]

Taylor Gauthier Named Warrior Hockey ECHL Goaltender of the Week

The ECHL has announced that Wheeling Nailers goaltender Taylor Gauthier has been named Warrior Hockey ECHL Goalie of the Week for the week of December 11-17. Gauthier, 22, played and won both of Wheeling's games last week. On Friday, he made 24 saves on 25 shots, as the Nailers defeated the Indy Fuel, 4-1. Then, on Saturday, he stared down one of the top offensive clubs in the ECHL, and denied all 32 shots he faced, as Wheeling blanked the Cincinnati Cyclones, 3-0. Taylor concluded the weekend with a shutout streak of 106:30. Saturday's shutout was Gauthier's third this season, as he blanked Kalamazoo on December 3rd and also had an AHL shutout with the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins against the Syracuse Crunch on November 10th. The Calgary, Alberta native is enjoying an outstanding second professional season, as he currently ranks second in the ECHL with a 2.14 goals against average and second with a .928 save percentage. Taylor has an 8-5-1 record with the Nailers this season, and has allowed three goals or fewer in 13 of his 14 starts. In his career, Gauthier has appeared in 53 games between Wheeling and Wilkes-Barre/Scranton, and has gone 25-16-9. Gauthier is the second Nailer to earn an ECHL honor this season, following Cédric Desruisseaux, who was ECHL Player of the Month in October. Taylor is the second Wheeling goaltender in the last seven seasons to win ECHL Goaltender of the Week, joining Louis-Philip Guindon in April, 2022. He is also the first Nailer with multiple shutouts in the same season since Matt O'Connor in 2018-19. Taylor Gauthier and the Wheeling Nailers will play their final game before the holiday break on Friday, when they go to Cincinnati for a 7:35 face-off. Wheeling's next two home contests will take place on New Year's Weekend, when the Norfolk Admirals come to town for a series on Saturday, December 30th at 7:10 and Sunday, December 31st at 6:10. The highlight game of that weekend is Sunday, which is Kids New Year's Eve, featuring an interactive light show, free sparkling grape juice, as well as New Year's hats and noisemakers. That will also be a Screen Time Sunday in which one lucky fan will win a new TV courtesy of Walmart, and $2 ice cream sundaes will be available at Flurry's. The next Big Six Promotional Game is Super Nailers World on Saturday, January 13th. Season memberships and other terrific ticket plans for the 2023-24 season are available now by calling (304) 234-GOAL. The Wheeling Nailers, considered one of the top things to do in Wheeling, West Virginia, provide affordable family entertainment for fans throughout the Ohio Valley. Read the full article