#the amount of time i have spent with my camera stuck in the fucking trees

[electric-butter-slug]

Listen man, I play sonic because it's FUN. I don't play the games to challenge myself emotionally and mentally.

The difficulty of Frontiers was FINE.

Extreme mode felt like a fun challenge but i didn't actually play it on extreme all that much because Hard Mode was good enough. It extended the bosses a bit but they were still fun.

This DLC tho??? Holy fuck I am LIVID. The controls are not good for a lot of aspects of the additional characters, the towers try my fucking patience, and the bosses are insane for no fucking reason.

The stages are visual vomit and I don't even know what I'm looking at. It's too much. Suddenly there's new power ups in the stages that I've never used and oh suddenly there's an exclamation mark above Sonic's head. Usually that's like an emerald mark or something so I'll go closer! Ha! Just kidding! You blew up! For fucking real? Save all three animals! Collect 5 reverse numerical rings, 5 silver medals, now there's a hidden goal, now there's a shadow character race! I'm fucking tired. It's still visually terrible and I can't see what's happening.

Sonic goes fast? Here's some fine fucking platforming! Careful, there's no checkpoints so you better not fall or you'll have to start over for the hundredth time.

That last point goes quadruple for the towers. And what awaits you at the top? Trials. You've spent the whole game leveling sonic up? Well fuck you cuz his stats are "fixed." Fixed at what you might ask? It doesn't say. You have to google it to discover it means fixed at level. Fucking. One. And the tricks to getting through these trials? Yeah, you're gonna need to google that too. Nothing prepares you for the new skills you suddenly need to use like apparently how you can sidestep targets and parry things you normally wouldn't think to parry. And speaking of parry, only perfect parry is available! What's perfect parry? We'll never tell. You should know already, right? Time to fucking google again.

Final boss time? Better use that perfect parry. But this time at least we'll actually fucking tell you HOW to. Oh but the boss is connected to this thing with a cord. You've been attacking it for half an hour with no opening to do real damage? Better Google that too. Oh remember how we never told you you could do that sidestepping thing ever in the course of the game? Yeah now you need to do it or you'll never progress the boss. Oh you wasted a half hour waiting for some mysterious opening? Yeah it's not coming. Better just know what to fucking do I guess.

I have never needed to google anything for a sonic game until this dlc came out. I got to go through and actually have fun. This DLC has NOT BEEN FUN because I have spent more time angry about how shitty and impossibly hard for NO REASON it is. It's unfair for too long with too little payoff. The extra lore is barely worth this. I'm not even sure I care to finish the final fight anymore. I'm just tired.

Y'all who complained about the difficulty better be fucking happy now. I shouldn't be struggling like this on EASY FUCKING MODE.

[lianahayze]

Shadow and the Midnight Misery: Chapter 4

Welcome to chapter 4, my lovelies! If you missed chapter 3 or want to catch up from the beginning, you can find my masterlist here. Chapter 4 is below the cut!

Chapter Four: Garver Institute

The Garver Institute is sunny. When I’d walked in about two hours ago, it had been the first thing I’d noticed. Sure, I’d noticed the doctors and nurses. I’d noticed the excess amount of identification I’d had to provide. I’d noticed everything I’d had to surrender at intake. I’d noticed a lot of things, sure, but there was something about all the large windows that really stuck with me.

It’s like they’re trying to create artificial happiness.

As I walk through the hallway, all I want to go back to my room. That's right: my room.

Not only do I have to talk to fucking doctors, but I must be isolated while I do it. I hate it and contested it when they first looked through my bags looking for "drug paraphernalia" but it hadn't stopped them. They'd practically upturned my bag, digging through my belongings with a fine-tooth comb. Had I brought anything with me? No, I hadn't been stupid enough to waste the money I'd spent, but I also don't see myself here long term. A few days, that's what they'd told me. A few days if I cooperate.

I'm not by myself as I walk down the hall. Beside me is Dr. Norris. She's not forcing me to speak, which I'm grateful for, but she thought a walk would be nice before we formally meet in her office.

Truth be told, I'm glad I'll be working with her instead of Dr. Dorian. He was as bland as a box of chalk, and if I had to spend any extended amount of time alone in a room with him, that "cooperation" they'd so desperately wanted wasn't going to happen. Older men, especially men who are decades older, just make my skin crawl.

Finishing up our walk, Dr. Norris leads me to her office. The flowy green skirt she's wearing swishes around her knees, and I find myself staring at it for a moment. Maybe it's the fact that I didn't smoke or take a bump this morning, but my eyes have been easily distracted all day.

Dr. Norris shuts the door behind us. She invites me to sit down, and she goes behind the desk. The wheels of her chair spin against the floor as she sits down and starts her computer.

"So, Shadow," she says, "what do you think about Garver Institute so far?"

What do I think? Well, from what I can tell, Garver seems to be designed with a specific clientele in mind, and that clientele is me. I don't even want to know the bill for my stay, but, based off the immaculate upkeep, the large trees and bushes, and the fact that there are cameras everywhere, I'm willing to bet I'm not the only famous person here. Everything just looks so... luxurious.

It could almost be mistake for a spa or a resort for anyone who didn’t know better.

"It's nice for people who need it, I guess." Even though I don’t need to, I smooth out my jeans. I pick at the rips in the knees, widening them.

"So you don't think you need it?"

I look up. "Huh?"

"You said it's good for people who need it," she says. "Do you mean it's good for you or other people?"

"Well, it's..." I'm not sure if she's trying to get me to say something specific. I decide on my words carefully. "I think you all know what you're doing here." I smile. Yeah, that will work.

"And what are we doing here?"

That smile falls. "Uh, helping people?" I sound unsure of myself.

"it's okay, Shadow. You can relax." She begins typing on her computer. "There are no wrong answers here."

I listen to the keys for a moment. "But you're here to help people, right?"

"That's what we try to do, yes. But it requires effort from all parties involved."

"So what do you think I need help with?"

She stopped typing and looked at me. Leaning back, she says, "That’s a good question for me to ask you, actually. What do you think you need help with?"

"Honestly, your guess is as good as mine."

"You don't know why you're here?"

"I mean, my band is acting stupid."

"That's right; you're in a band. What's it called?"

" The Midnight Misery." I pause, wondering if she's still just trying to get to know me or if the session has officially started. "We're, uh, like an alternative band."

"It's not my type of music, but I think I've heard of you."

"It's a lot of grunge, mostly," I continue. "But Wyatt, our guitar player, can come up with these sick riffs. His music taste is mostly stuck in the 80s, so stuff like that." The knot in my stomach that I didn't even realize was there begins to loosen. "We have a good time. Well, we used to have a good time."

"Hmm. What about the rest of the band?"

"They're all good. I got lucky with them, I guess."

"Do they smoke and drink, too?"

"Yeah." I pause. “But not all the time. It's part of the lifestyle, but we know when to take it easy."

"What lifestyle?"

"You know."

"No, I don't,” she says, “maybe you could explain it?"

Her face is blank. I'm not sure if she's just pretending to be clueless or if she genuinely doesn't know, but I decide to indulge her.

"There's a lot of partying. It just comes with being in a band. We buckle down when the time comes, though. Can't party without putting in the work first."

"That's a good attitude to have. It'll help you be very successful." I'm glad she thinks so. "And the cocaine?"

I'm tempted to say, "What about it?" but bite my tongue. I'm not going to lie about it, though, so I say, "I've been using for a few years now. They knew about it. actually, they've known about it for a while." And they've never had a problem with it until now.

That's what makes no sense about this entire thing. If they have such an issue with me occasionally doing coke, why haven't they brought it up before? Why not just mention it instead of staging a full-on intervention?

"How often do you use cocaine?"

"Depends."

"On average. It's just a normal week when you're not doing anything out of the ordinary."

"But my life isn't ordinary." She gives me a look. "Most people aren't musicians. They have normal jobs."

"Ah." Dr. Norris nods. "Well, normal for you, then. How often do you think you're on cocaine during a normal week for you?"

I cross my legs as I think about it. Continuing to pick at the holes in my jeans, I'm not sure how to answer her. It's not like I’m high all the time, and my consumption isn’t excessive. Most of the time I do one or two lines in a go. Do I sometimes go back for more? Sure, but it's not like I’m demolishing a full plate in one sitting.

"Not that much."

"How much would you say you're spending a week on your habit?"

My eyes narrow. Theres something about calling it a "habit" that irks me. Some people like to have a cup of coffee first thing in the morning; I like a line of coke. Really, there isn't much difference.

Still, I ballpark a number. "1 to 2 k." She nods, repeating what I’ve said. "But I don’t use all of it myself. I go to a lot of parties and we, um, share." I’d much rather share my stuff than rely on favors from someone else. Unless I know the person, I can’t verify where they get their drugs from, and I'm not trying to inhale something that’s been cut with who knows what.

At least I’m safe in that regard.

"Have you ever done a detox before?" she asks. "Even an informal one on your own?"

Why would I detox something that isn't a problem? "I'm gone a few days without it, if that's what you mean."

"And the weed and alcohol?"

I wonder if I tell her the weed is medical if she'd buy it? "I really only drink a couple of times a week."

"How many servings would you say you have throughout the week?"

I shrug. Honestly, I can't even answer her. Sure, a "shot" is an official size, but it's hard to keep those uniform when your bartenders are your friends. "I'd say I go hard twice a week."

"Do you smoke every day?"

I nod. "Yeah, just about."

"Vaping?" I shake my head. "That's good. There are studies that show vaping THC might be worse on your lungs than rolling weed into a joint. So, what do you think we should do?" I ask her what she means. "Are you comfortable with quitting everything?"

I practically choke on the air as she says it. "The weed's not harming anyone," I insist. "It relaxes me. Good way to start my morning."

"So you only do it in the mornings?"

Well, not only, but... "Sometimes I can't sleep at night and it helps."

"Okay. This is good, Shadow. Honesty really does help."

Glad I'm saying at least some of the right things.

"Let me see." She stares at the computer screen. "I believe you're with us for seventy-two hours. Does that sound correct to you?"

I shrug. Maybe it's right. With Dr. Dorian by my side, I had "willfully" brought myself here. The guys had been here too, and they'd signed some papers. So, I guess I’d agreed to seventy-hour hours, but, without actually having read the paperwork, I didn’t know for sure.

"After that, we'll do a full evaluation to see if a 5250 is warranted."

"Yeah, I'm trying to--" Suddenly the numbers reach my brain. A 5250. Why does that sound so familiar? I try to wrack my brain but come up empty handed. "Remind me what that is again?"

"It's similar to the 5150." Her voice is calm and straight-forward. As if trying to gage my response, she looks me straight in the eyes.

It takes me a moment, but when I finally realize what’s going on, rage fill my body.

"Wait, I thought I was allowed to leave whenever. I came here voluntarily!"

"No, Shadow. You came here with Dr. Dorian."

"Yeah, but I walked myself in!"

"You were deemed a danger by the other individuals that accompanied you in."

A danger? A fucking danger?

I've heard of 5150. It's how they keep people who are a danger to society locked away for a couple of days while they're being evaluated. I'm not a danger to myself, let alone society. What the fuck is going on?

"Your alcoholism is stated as the reasoning on the paperwork. Do you not agree with that?"

But I'm not even an alcoholic! What the hell?

"I thought I was here because of the drugs, not the drinking."

"In my opinion so far, it could be cumulative, but--"

"I'm not trying to hurt anyone! I guess I’ve hurt the band, but not like that. Not physically, I mean. They're just mad that I'm sometimes late for practice. And there were a couple of shows that..." I shake my head. "Never mind. The point is I'm not a danger to anyone."

"No, Shadow, you're not understanding." Really? It seems pretty black and white it me. "You're not here because you're a danger to others. You're here because you're a danger to yourself."

Her words piece through me, causing my breath to leave my chest. A danger to myself? I'm not suicidal, if that's what she's trying to say. There have been times where I'd rather die than let certain things happen to me, but full-on suicidal? No way. Absolutely not.

"I'm not drinking and doing drugs because I'm trying to kill myself." Just saying "kill myself" out loud makes my mouth dry.

"No, that's not what I'm saying." It's not? I exhale sharply. "I think your friends are worried that you might accidentally harm yourself. That's all. You're lucky you have such caring friends."

I purse my lips. "That's all"? She makes it sound so simple, like I'd just missed a meal or something. "Don't forget to eat breakfast. Studies show it's an important part of your day." That's the tone she's said it in, like all of this is just a recommendation.

But if all of this is just a recommendation, then why am I here?

"I think there's been a mix-up. I don't know why they did this, but I don’t need to be here. Not like this."

My chest feels tight. I'm beginning to wish that I would have tried to sneak some drugs in. My body is shaking and I either need a drink or a joint--stat. My skin is crawling and I feel hot. My legs are shaking violently as I tap my heels against the floor.

"It's okay that you feel that way." Her voice is still so calm and nonchalant that it’s eerie. Why is she so calm, acting like this is no big deal? "I'm not telling you that you'll be here indefinitely, just for the next three days."

Isn't that the same thing?

"I can't just sign some paperwork, or something?"

She shakes her head. "No, that's not how that works. You didn't sign yourself in, so you can't sign yourself out."

Well, that's total BS. "What can I do, then?"

"You can work with me over the next couple of days. Once the three days are up, I'll do a re-evaluation to determine if you're safe to go home."

I was afraid she'd say something like that, but it wasn't what I meant. "So what will you be looking for?" I ask.

She takes a moment before answering. "There’s not an official checklist. We'll meet up a couple of times a day, we'll chat, I'll see how you adjust here by talking to the rest of the staff, and, if I think you're well enough, I'll create a plan for your discharge. If, for your own safety, you'll be here longer, we'll come up with an extended in-patient treatment program."

The thought of being here for more than the three days makes me nauseous. "So I just... answer your questions and be nice to everyone?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but to put it in the simplest terms, yes."

I put my face in my hands. I feel sick, like I'm about to throw up. If I ever get out here--no, when I do get out of here--I'm going to kill them. I'm absolutely going to kill them. They put me in here to save the band? Ha, by the time I get out, there's not going to be a band to save.

"Does all of this make sense, Shadow?"

"Huh?" I pull my hands down from my face and look across the desk at Dr. Norris. "Um, yeah. I guess." It's taking everything to my power to not grab the paperweight next to me and hurl it across the table. Throwing a fit isn’t something that I often do, but, right about now, I desperately want to.

I exhale. "Yeah, I get it."

She smiles. "Good. That means for the rest of the day, you're on your own. Did they give you the meal schedule? You know what time meals will be served?”

I nod. Though I doubt I’ll be eating, I remember them saying something about mealtimes during intake.

"Excellent. Feel free to walk around the grounds but remember that you'll have to check in every hour."

"What?"

"It's just so we can keep track of you, make sure you’re adjusting alright. Tomorrow it'll be every two hours." My breathing keeps increasing. This is going to be an absolute nightmare. "One other thing, you're not on any legally prescribed medications, are you?" I shake my head. "Good. We wouldn't accidentally want you detoxing from that." She stands. "Well, unless you have any questions..."

I have several, none of which I can actually get from my brain to my lips. I shake my head slightly, starting to get up. My legs wobble as I stand up, and I have to press my palms against the chair to prevent myself from falling. Dr. Norris notices, and says,

"Be careful. Are you okay to stand; do you need some water?"

The thing I need isn't water. Forcing myself to compose myself, I shake my head. "I'm alright. I just..." I shake my head again. I'm not even able to come up with a good excuse.

As I leave her office, Dr. Norris says something to me, but I'm not able to hear it. There's a buzzing noise in my ears, and my vision keeps switching to black. I keep myself upright just long enough to wave at her. The moment her door closes, I collapse against the wall, my body slowing dragging down against it.

My chest continues tightening, and no gasp of air that I take makes it better. I feel like I'm drowning, unable to calm myself down.

My fingertips start to tingle, and my heart bounces hard enough to just about crack my ribs. I'm alone in the hall, and I don't know what would be worse: being alone and with no one to comfort me, or someone turning the corner and seeing me.

Eventually, I'm able to get myself up. How long I'm on the floor I don't know, but, as I get my feet, all I want to do is take off my clothes. I'm hot and dizzy, and I have to blink several times for my vision to slide back to normal. I cough over and over again. I'm wheezing, but, after several attempts, I'm able to get it over control.

My feet drag as I make my way back to my room. Luckily, I don't run into anyone. My hands shake as I open the door, push myself inside, and slam the door behind me.

For a moment, all I do is stand there. It's quiet, but the screaming in my head is loud. I can't silence it, and, needing to get it out, I walk over to the bed. I stare down at it. The pillows look flat, and the covers are tucked in so tightly that I’ll probably struggle to put them back when it’s time for bed. Not that it even matters, though, because the bed looks ridiculously uncomfortable. I'd probably be better off sleeping on the floor.

Calmly, I walk into the bathroom. There's a toilet and shower and sink. Like everything else in this place, it's cleaned impossibly well. I reach for one of the small bottles on the sink. I turn it over in my hand. My eyes scan the words, but none of it reaches my brain. I look at myself in the mirror; a spilt second later, I'm throwing things at my reflection.

First it's the small bottle in my hand. Then the second one. Then the third one. I find a hair dryer and throw that, too. It doesn't break the mirror, but it makes a loud sound.

I storm back out into the bedroom. I open my bag onto the bed. There isn't much for me to sort through, and I quickly found what I was looking for. I grabbed my makeup bag and unzipped it. I hastily took out anything that I was at least somewhat heavy. Going back into the bathroom, I continue throwing things.

My mascara. My blush. My foundation. Anything that will ricochet off the floor and walls is fair game. I want to scream--I want to punch a hole in the wall--but, with this being the best I can do, I let the destruction consume me, not caring what breaks or who hears.

When it is all over, my foundation is splattered all over the floor, the glass bottle broken. I'd thrown the hairdryer so many times that parts of it have chipped. My heart is still thumping, and I'm still enraged, but I feel better. I feel... like something is actually in my control.

Taking a deep breath, I begin to clean everything up. Leaving it for housekeeping will only arise suspicion. Methodically, I pick up everything. One by one, I place the shards of glass into my hand and then into the trashcan. I don't know if they'll check my trash, but, right now, I'm so focused on just cleaning everything up that I don't really think about it.

After all, hiding things? Cleaning up messes? It's probably the only thing I'm good at.

-

Thoughts? Let me know what you think here. Hope you're having a wonderful day!

[strawberrylemonz]

Disc(o) Boy

Part 4

Part 5 [CURRENT]

Part 6

DT: @bargledblocks @snapdragonfirefly @artistconk

“Chat, I’ve been thinking-”

“That’s not good.”

“Fuck you! You know what? I’m not telling you what I was going to tell you-! Oh, look at the sunset.”

Chat clucked and chuckled as Tommy pulled out his camera, snapping a photo. Humming as he waited for it to develop, he nodded to his voices.

“Can’t wait until I can get a new camera, one that can record, too! Don’t get me wrong, the camcorder dad left behind works well, but it’s becoming a hassle, innit?”

The sound of disembodied voices harmonizing agreed with the child, watching as he put away the photo, swapping it with his water bucket. Jumping off the side of his cliff, he hummed as he landed perfectly, avoiding damage.

“Poggers.”

Phil couldn’t help but smile at his youngest son, watching as he conversed with his voices in a friendly manner. He was certainly skilled at mediating his voices, not letting them annoy him and corrupt his thoughts with their sometimes questionable suggestions. He watched as his boy collected seeds, changing course to collect skeleton bones. Before anyone knew it, tiny Tommy began obsessed with trying to use a creeper to get a disc.

Tubbo almost laughed as he watched his best friend scurry around, worry-free as he tried so hard to get a disc, determined to succeed. It was nearly sunrise when Tommy finally loosened his grip on his quest.

“I’ll read your “subs” in a minute, I need to try and kill a creeper with a skeleton. You know what? No. I’ve got my bones, that’s all I needed.”

The group was almost baffled with how tiny Tommy and his voices easily decided to drop the disc quest. Tommy’s precious discs were so close to never being discovered. 

“Quick! Before you die!”

Tommy navigated through the plains, avoiding arrows and zombies as he did so. His bright blue eyes, shining with adventure and joy, widened the moment he saw the arrow kill the creeper. Cheering alongside his chat, he scurried over to put the disc, examining it. Quickly stuffing it in his inventory, he happily ran away from the mobs as he made his way back to his house, full of excitement.

“And so it begins, the beginning of the end.”

“The kid was excited to get his very own disc. I don’t understand how a kid enjoying something he worked hard to get led to all of this.”

“Because he decided that those stupid things are worth more than people! Do you know how many things we’ve lost because of them? How many canon lives were wasted because he can’t let go of them?”

“He’s a kid, Jack. He shouldn’t even have to make such a stupid decision at such an age! No one should make that decision, so stop putting this all on my son!”

Jack huffed as he crossed his arms, biting back a comeback at the sight of both Philza and Kristin’s expressions. Sharing a look with Niki, he shook his head as he turned to face the small child he despised.

-

Ponk smiled at the memory, amused to see the young Tommy he had met so long ago. He watched as the child grumbled to the regular chickens and his Chat, leading the regular chickens back into their pen. He remembered the simple times he had with Tommy when the boy first joined. He remembered the quarrels they had as they bordered each other. He also remembered the moments of peace the two had in their own little corner, how he’d sit against the base of his tree, listening to the discs that Tommy would put on from his side of the fence. He didn’t care much for kids, but Tommy was some form of a companion in their little corner. Letting out a snort, he shook his head as Tommy half-heartedly dissed him to his Chat, a passive-aggressive tone when Chat mentioned that they enjoyed Ponk’s voice. He didn’t even realize that missed the kid’s company until now.

-

“What is that growling?”

The group watched as Tommy dug into the hill, searching for the source of the undead groans. Amusement filled Sam as he watched Tommy shrugged it off, deciding to head back to his home. It wasn’t until the vast amount of clucking and moans that Tommy realized what he had come across.

“A spawner? Do you reckon?”

The boy dug into the cobblestone, excitement and pride filling him as he saw the zombie spawner. Running about in joy, he finally composed himself long enough to secure it. After he was done, he happily made his way to the chest.

“Oh, what’s in the chest? What’s in the chest-”

Tommy froze for a moment, but only a moment, before breaking out in cheers. Doing laps around the small room, he paid no mind to his cheering Chat. Laughing, he pulled out his latest find, a disc. Running his hands over its surface, he smiled as he recognized it in an instant.

“Cat! Oh, I definitely need that diamond now!”

-

“Where do you want to listen to the music? Here?”

Tubbo smiled as he watched his younger self walk around with Tommy, joyful. Both boys were content, not yet in the hands of unfit responsibilities. No trauma, no wars, no exile, just Tommy and Tubbo.

“I’ll make us some chairs, one sec.”

The group watched as the younger boy scurried to craft chairs, his best friend waiting as they spoke.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not following, I’m just watching. You’ve made us some chairs, this is nice.”

“Do you want our chairs next to each other or one block apart?”

“Uh-”

“I’ll just make us a bench.”

“Yeah, a bench.”

Tubbo and Tommy both sat down on either side of the bench, leaving room for each other to feel comfortable. Humming, Tommy set down the music box, opening up his inventory to grab a disc.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, we’re gonna start with-”

-

“I like the sound of this one!”

Wilbur froze at the voice, eyes widening. He ignored Ghostbur’s squeals of joy, spewing ‘awws’ and ‘how adorable!’ every chance he got. Clenching his fists, he glared at his father and brother as they perked up, eager to see a memory not familiar to them.

“You like the sound of all of them, you cheeky little gremlin.”

“Wilby! Take that back! I’m a big man!”

Wilbur smiled as sat on the couch, peering over to watch as his six-year old brother watched the disc rotate. Tommy had always loved music, always eager to listen to Wilbur play his guitar. He used to watch Technoblade play his violin, that was, until Techno dropped the hobby. Humming along to the tune, he nodded to his older brother.

“Yeah, this one. Hey, Wilbah?”

“What’s up, Toms?”

“Is it okay if I learn how to play music?”

Philza perked up at this. Music? Did Tommy learn to play music?

Wilbur feigned being in deep thought, before smiling as he tickled the boy seated next to him. Tommy giggled and squealed as he squirmed out of his brother’s grasp. Smiling, Tommy playfully stuck his tongue out at his brother, making the older boy roll his eyes. Standing up from the couch, Wilbur stopped the disc and put it back in its sleeve, much to Tommy’s disappointment. Biting his lip, he made up his mind when he held the packaged disc to Tommy. Tommy gently accepted it, eyes sparkling as he followed his brother to the front of the music shop. He watched as Wilbur paid for the disc, thanking the employee before leading Tommy out. Tommy was practically radiating with joy at this point. 

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not a problem, Tommy.”

“Oh, I can’t wait until Dad and Techie come home tomorrow so that I can show them my new disc!”

Wilbur froze, furrowing his eyebrows as Tommy bumped into his legs. Sighing, he bent down to face his brother.

Quackity let out a nervous laugh as he pulled Karl and Sapnap close, enjoying being between the two.

“I know that look, it’s the bad news express.”

“Listen, Toms, I know you were looking forward to having those two spend the day with us tomorrow, but that’s not happening. I just got a letter from them that said that they’ll be gone longer this time.”

“Wha- but that’s not fair! It’s my birthday tomorrow! You only turn seven once, you know. They promised me!”

“I know, Tommy, I know. Oh, come here.”

Tommy bit back tears as he accepted his older brother’s embrace. Sniffing, wiped some tears away as he tried not to sob.

“They promised me, Wilbah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? ‘S not your fault. I love you, Wilby”

“I love you more, Toms.”

Wilbur smiled as he ruffled his brother’s hair. Giving a small smile, he nodded as he motioned for him to follow. 

“Come on, now. We still have your birthday party to look forward to! Besides, don’t you wanna show our new neighbors your disc?”

“Yeah! Tubbo’s gonna love it!”

Letting Wilbur carry him back to their little home on the outskirts of town, Tommy smiled as he traced his fingers along the pattern of the packaged disc. Nodding, he laid his head against his brother as he spoke up once more.

“Wilbah? What’s the name of this song?”

“Hm? Oh, that song is called-”

-

“-Cat.”

Silence filled the group as they turned to face the Minecraft family. Phil refused to face his sons or his wife, opting to stare at his hands. Techno kept his eyes closed, refusing to open them. Whether it was to put up a front or to be alone with his thoughts, no one knew. Wilbur and Ghostbur just stared ahead, the image of their younger brother being so small stuck in their heads. Kristin just wished that one of them would look at her. She opened her mouth to address her family, but she was beaten to it.

“You just...left them. Why?”

Phil pressed his lips together as he turned to make eye contact with Puffy, taking note of the anger in her eyes.

“I did what I thought was best at the time. It was for their own good.”

A scoff escaped from her throat as she shook her head. Puffy stood up, prepared to scold the man, only to be cut off by Tubbo.

“He waited every day for you two. He’d collect items and write down his fun moments so that he could share with you two. Tell me, Philza, Techno, when was the last time you spent a birthday with Tommy?”

They couldn’t answer him. They genuinely couldn’t remember, and that was something Tubbo already knew. They could only stay silent, could only think.

Tubbo smiled as he leaned back in his seat, humming as he watched the sky. Peering over at Tommy, he was pleased to see the relaxed and content expression that painted his friend’s face. Tommy hummed as he faced Tubbo, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. The volume of Chat themselves died down, mumbles and whispers exchanged as the voices enjoyed the tune. Turning back to face the sky, Tubbo nodded as he spoke up.

“This is nice.”

It was peaceful, beautiful even. Pure bliss and peace filled everyone as Tommy’s content feeling flooded into them, reminding them of their connection. This time was different, however. This time, they didn’t mind sharing such lovely feelings with the young boy. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and it was all thanks to the bond that was shared between two best friends. In that very moment, everything was perfect.

“All jokes aside, what actually is a fetish?”

[xoxo-bunnydumpling]

I spent an inordinate amount of time at the park today...sitting in my car, accidentally eating a huge bag of kale chips, contemplating climbing a tree (which is just the most California thing I've ever said) until getting out of the car to do so almost popped my hip.

I couldn't go home. Eli had a work from home day today (I suspect this will become even more regular as the locals refuse to get vaccinated and would apparently prefer to spread the freakin' plague than be uncomfortable for a few days). He's not going back in until after Mama's visit. He's terrified that, she too, will get COVID and die. I could have gone home, I wasn't forbidden and I live there so fuck it...but Eli has a ton of stuff to get done before we leave on vacation and he had already sent me a string of saucy texts suggesting he would make damn sure to be distracted by me if I came home.

("No, you can't eat me out just because it's your lunch break but I respect your hustle" is a response I had to send to him today)

For all his attempts at horny levity, I know that things are piling onto him. I can see the weight. My sweet and funny and outgoing softboi has been sagging under so many expectations, deadlines, and motherfuckery feelings. Aside from admin stuff that I can't help with, he's preparing to go live with story time, every Thursday and Friday from our living room starting next week...which thankfully I can help with but that's not today's work. No one else wanted to keep the program going in his stead and he refused to let it die...it's one that he started, and I believe him when he says he'll keep reading to these kids until they're 50.

He's very nervous though. I've never been nervous on camera or around toddlers but then again, I have been told I'm similarly chaotic so maybe there's just kinship there to kill the nerves. I am also nervous, coming up on my last week on the job...looking down at a long year of getting back into school and attempting to make myself marketable as something other than a cake wench but more so, having to meet my very fiesty future mother-in-law very shortly. Pretty serious shit, pretty fast.

But when I did allow myself to come home, and opened the refrigerator door in search of some cold brew...I'm met with JUST SO MUCH sour cream (and not quite as much cottage cheese but way more than I would normally buy which is none) that I can't help but laugh.

"Sweetheart...can I ask what the hell or no?"

Eli answers from the living room. "It's about to get Ukrainian as FUCK in here. We, as you would say, 'severely fuck with it'." He comes into the kitchen, picks me up, and sets me on the counter. "Are you hungry yet?"

I'm not. Too much kale. "Absolutely. How can I help?"

"Just stay off your feet and continue to gaze at me adoringly. I'm enjoying the ego boost."

I'd love to tell you I paid attention and took notes but I didn't. I threw my chef brain away and just watched. Listened. As he worked he told me how these things were his dad's favorites. That his dad was the one who taught him how to make them, to make everything...apparently Mama is not much of a cook. He, in turn, taught his oldest sister Karina, and together they tried to teach the youngest to no avail. "Whatever lovely woman Gabby ends up with, I hope she has a good sense of humor and an iron gut." This is the first time I'm hearing that Gabby is a lesbian, and I wonder what she'll think of my two moms. I start to piece together a family dynamic, a history, and wish so much I'd been able to meet the man who seems to have been so instrumental in shaping Eli into the treasure that he is.

"I told you before I felt like I didn't mesh with my dad. He seemed so foreign compared to my friends' fathers. And when you're young, you're too dumb to know how interesting and cool that is. If I could go back..."

He drops off again and stands with a knife in his hand, hovering over a potato. He wants to say something, he's just stuck.

So I ask him. What he would say.

"I would thank him. I told him I loved him a million times. But I don't think I ever thanked him...and he gave us the world."

And then he asks me the heaviest question I've ever been asked. One that no one has ever asked me before.

"When you thought you were dying...after your stroke when you really COULD have died...what did you think about? What was on your mind?"

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"Red. I really only thought about Red, and how much I loved him."

He lays the knife down, and comes to stand in front of me. He brushes some tears away to kiss my cheek, and apologizes for making me cry.

"It's okay. I'd rather cry about it occasionally than never talk about it at all. I'll tell you anything, everything, just keep talking."

So he kisses me again, and returns to his potato. His father had a lot of favorites, and he still has a lot to say.

[starryse]

Hot & Cold

13 Days of SVT Christmas- Day 3

Jeonghan x Reader

Fluff, Christmas au, friends?enemies? to lovers au

2.2k

Snow was a given on Christmas, that, anyone knew. It wasn’t odd for inches of snow to cover the ground, and for the sky to be a bright white instead of its normal shades of blue. However, when it comes to Christmas plans, everyone seems to forget about the same snow they had been squealing about days prior.

You weren’t an exception.

Your breath fogged the window in front of you, the dew forming blurring the outside view. Groaning, you dropped your head down, forehead resting on the cold glass.

You didn’t mind staying cooped up inside when the roads were too dangerous to drive on, in fact, you loved it. It was a nice change of pace when you had to stay home; rather than having thousands of plans a day with only 24 hours to do them, your only option was to relax and work around the house. But when your roommate's annoying friend was also going to be snowed in with you, you couldn’t dread it anymore.

“Aww what’s wrong y/n? Hot date get canceled cause of the snow?”

You backed away from the window, a slight red mark left on your forehead. “Actually no, I’m just so excited to be stuck with you,” you scoffed.

Jeonghan’s smug smile grew, a dramatic sigh leaving his lips as he plopped onto the couch, “ah ditto, beautiful. I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you.”

“Please can you stop arguing for just 5 minutes? We’re snowed in for God knows how long, try and get along”

You and Jeonghan turned your heads towards the scruff voice belonging to your friend. His hand rubbed his creased forehead, eyes squinting shut. You sighed, nodding your head as you walked over to the male, “I’ll do my best, just keep your little devil in check and we’ll be fine”

Jeonghan cackled, leaning over the couch, white-sleeve cladded arms resting on the back, “does that mean you’re my angel?”

You groaned as you walked away from the smirking dark haired man on the couch, “Oh my God I’m going to my room”

“Can I join?!”

You flipped off the laughing male, quickly shutting your door right after.

The sun had begun to set, the snow just barely letting up from earlier. The sunset outside shown through the sheer curtains in your room, soft orange hues reflecting onto your walls. You had been in your room for a few hours, most of which were spent groaning and whining about the crazy amount of work you had to complete before next semester (which was in a week). The other good chunk of the time was you lounging on your bed, fingers mindlessly scrolling through your phone as you mentally prepared yourself to be in the presence of Jeonghan for what could be days.

Yours and Jeonghan’s relationship was a complicated one. Simple really to your shared close friends (which happened to be all of your friends), to them it was mere sexual tension, convinced you both had to big of egos to fuck one out. Meanwhile, to outsiders it may seem as if you truly hated one another, that the pure existence of each other was the bane of your lives. But for you, you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t hate Jeonghan, God no. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy his remarks from time to time. And maybe you found him incredibly attractive. Also you 100% daydreamed about him more than you’d like to admit.

No. No no. He annoyed you. Constantly antagonizing everything you did, whether it was when you tripped over nothing and landed on a pile of Mingyu’s dogs shit, or when you were rejected by the waiter you had tried flirting with. Jeonghan always had some remark that made your blood boil.

But he was also the same guy who knew how hard you had studied for your exam, only for you to fail it, and proceed to comfort you and order you takeout. And there were all the times where Coups couldn’t come home and Jeonghan offered to stay with you (he knew how much you hated being alone at night.) He’s confusing. But then again you could only guess you were too.

“Hello my angel, dinners readyyy”

Jeonghan stood at your door, his body leaning against the frame. His dark hair casted over his eyebrows, hair parting to reveal his forehead and the small scar above his eyebrow (you may or may not have accidentally did that when you first met).

You rolled over from your previous position facing your window. Sitting up, you stretched your arms as you twisted your back. Jeonghan couldn’t help but shamelessly watch as your shirt clung to your skin as you moved, he was a simple guy. His eyes quickly darted up towards yours when you gazed over at him.

“Sooo why are you still standing there?”

Your question seemed to snap him out of his haze, his mouth stuttering out random words before he flipped you off and “ran” back out the door. That seems to be a common occurrence in the house. You snorted, standing up from your bed to go eat dinner.

“They say that the snow isn’t going to let up anytime soon. Don’t be surprised if we’re snowed in the next 2 days” Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his elbow propped on the arm rest, head in his hand as he flipped through the Netflix shows.

You sat between the boys, feet propped on the coffee table in front of you,“can’t we watch a Christmas movie, Christmas is literally tomorrow?” Your answer was quickly given when Cheol kicked your legs off the table, causing them to fall onto the ground with a thud. You muttered a few curse words under your breath, bringing your legs up to sick criss cross on the couch.

Jeonghan laughed as he watched the two of you banter over something as little as a Christmas movie, though he wasn’t entirely surprised- you were both immensely stubborn.

Waiting for the perfect timing, Jeonghan slyly reached behind your back, grabbing the remote from the crack of the couch between you and Cheol. His eyes darted from the tv to you two as he sneakily flicked on a movie.

The sound of Christmas bells and people talking caught both yours and the pouty man on your lefts attention, your mouths shutting as you turned to the tv screen.

A loud screech erupted from your mouth, your legs quickly bouncing on the floor as you pointed a finger at the pouting man, “YES! In your face, Cheol! Christmas wins again!” Said man slunk down in his seat, half of his body towards the floor as he groaned in annoyance, “Jeonghan really? I thought you were on my side man”

Jeonghan merely laughed, his arm patting Seungcheol’s shoulder, “What can I say, I’m a sucker for Christmas movies,” his eyes drifted over at you, watching as yours lit up in delight as you watched the movie in front of you, “and maybe I like seeing others happy.”

Seungcheol only sighed, knowing fair well why the dark haired boy betrayed him. Oh how he had looked forward to being a third wheel.

It was close to midnight now, the first movie had been done for a few hours as the 3rd one ran. The small living room was lit up by the lights strung on the tree in the corner and the strands along the archway. You may have fallen asleep halfway during the 2nd movie, leaving just Coups as Jeonghan fell asleep in the beginning of the 3rd.

Seungcheol looked over towards your two huddled figures. You were stuck to Jeonghan’s side like glue, his arm drapes around your side, hand pressed against your hip. The blanket previously wrapped around you was now discarded on the floor, the only thing keeping you from freezing was whatever body heat Jeonghan was radiating without a blanket himself. The eldest sighed, muttering an idiots under his breath as he stood up, tossing the blanket over the two of you before switching off the tv and heading to bed.

“MERRRRYY CHRISTMAS!!”

You moaned, leaning your body away from the sound, stuffing your head into the closest thing next to you. The feeling of hair in your mouth caused you to spew, your eyes peeling open as you lifted your head. The view of Jeonghan’s head right next to yours made you gasp, your eyes widening in shock. You glared over at Seungcheol who stood in front of you with a smug grin, similar to the one the sleeping boy always wore, “Seungcheol. What am I doing?”

The boy tilted his head in mock confusion, “well it seems to me you’re sleeping with Jeonghan?” You scrambled up, grabbing the pillow next to you before wacking the manically laughing man as he ran to sit next to the tree. The sudden movement caused said boy to stir, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You halted your movement, turning to look at Jeonghan who was now sitting half awake beside you on the couch.

“Merry Christmas”

You quickly answered back, a slight pink rising to your cheeks at his deeper than normal voice. God bless mornings.

Seungcheol clapped his hands, a grin etching across his face as he leaned his body over to grab one of the presents underneath the tree, “y/nnn, this ones for you!”

You smiled back, standing up from your seat, dropping the blanket on the floor in the process as you walked over to sit next to Cheol. You grabbed the present from him as he waved one of his hands at Jeonghan, the dark haired boy getting the hint as he tiredly walked over next to you. You waited for Seungcheols cue to open it, his head nodding. You greedily tore the wrapping paper off, the scraps falling onto the floor as well as Jeonghan’s legs that were sprawled in front of him. The boy looked at you, eyes squinting, “in a hurry much are we Y/n?”

You ignored his comment, instead gasping at the camera you’ve been wanting that sat in your hands. Your eyes widened, body immediately flinging into Coups’ already open arms, “you’re the bestest best friend ever, thank you Cheol.”

Seungcheol squeezed you one more time before you leaned back onto your knees in front of the tree. You passed one of the presents from you to Seungcheol, placing it in his hands that were held out flat in front of him. For a 25 y/o, he sure was giddy like a child when it came to presents.

The man cackled at the sight of the sushi boxers in front of him, the hidden meaning of the gift a fond memory, “thanks Y/n, I will cherish these beautes forever.” You smiled, patting his head. You sat back next to Jeonghan, waiting for more presents to be passed about.

Seungcheol smirked at the small, light blue wrapped present in the back of the tree, “ah, I almost forgot about this one. Y/n, this last one is yours”

You narrowed your eyes at the smug man, wondering why he was smirking at you because of a gift. Hesitantly grabbing the gift, you began slowly unwrapping it (much much slower compared to the first few presents you had torn open.) As you focused on the present, you didn’t notice the nervous man next to you, his fingers fiddling together as he gnawed on his bruising lip. He watched you through the hair that crowded his sight, cheeks the color of the lights that decorated the tree.

Your heart slowed at the now un-wrapped present, hands gently lifting the silver chain. You glanced up, eyes meeting Seungcheols. He shook his head, pointing a finger towards Jeonghan as he pretended to stretch his arms out. Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth forming a small O. You looked down at the necklace, fingers tracing the jeweled heart as you opened the locket. Your breath hitched at the engraved letters- a J for Jeonghan and your own first initial as well.

Jeonghan jumped at the sudden contact, his heart beating rapidly at the weight of your body against his. Snapping out of the shock, he softly wrapped his arms around you, his hand placed on the back of your neck as he pressed his cheek against the side of your head. He was on fire, maybe not literally, but he sure felt as if he were in flames.

You pulled back, hands gently cupping his cheeks, “why?”

Jeonghan smiled, and not the usual devilish smirk he did- no, this was different. Was it adoration? Happiness? “Because I'm maybe, possibly, 100%, for sure in love with you”

You melted at his words, a light laugh sounding before pressing your lips on his cheek, “Well maybe, possibly, 100%, for sure am I in love with you too”

The man's eyes lit up at that, a large grin spreading across his face. Pulling you back against him, he squeezed your body as he fell against the ground, a loud cheer leaving his mouth. Your laughs filled the air, a sound you were sure your neighbors could hear 2 doors down.

Seunghceol sighed at the sight, though a fond smile was hidden behind that, “let the 3rd wheeling begin.”

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Imaginary (Jumin x MC)

Chapter one here!

(Also to explain something! Both Bada and Eun are random characters I made up, I like to think that the island was already inhabited by some people, and that Jumin’s father bought part of it, in Saeran’s Normal End, he and MC talk about how the locals are all nice and stuff, so I wanted to add something like this here :D, OH AND! These are the sort of edited chapters, I will post the fully edited ones in AO3!)

AND feedback is greatly appreciated! Sorry if this one was kinda short! Next chapter we WILL get some cute kiddo Jumin, I promise :P

Chapter 2

.

.

.

In the end you weren’t able to find the ghost. That week your mother had been leaving you with heavy amounts of homework, and you hadn’t been able to go outside since by the time you finished it was always too dark, and your mother was home. You were also tired from the amount of history dates and math formulas you had to learn. Your mother wasn’t going to let you fall behind all of your classmates, but she also took it a bit too far and made you study things that even they hadn’t even seen yet.

Thus, your search for the ghost was cancelled. You weren’t able to see Bada and Eun either, which sucked since their food was so delicious last time, and you really wanted some more. In the meantime though, you spent your days reading about ghosts, and how to capture them or see them.

You wanted so badly to find the ghost! But you didn’t have the time. The thing that made it worse was that you were sure there was someone there, you always saw a small shadow by the windows, but as soon as you tried to get closer, it disappeared.

One night, you laid in your bed, unable to sleep and thinking about the ghost. It was about 11pm, your mother was already sleeping and you were sure everyone on the island was too. It made you feel weird, thinking that maybe you were the only one awake. Still, you decided to do something.

Soemthing reckless.

Slowly, very, very slowly, you got out of your bed and put on some shoes that you had in your closet. Then, you grabbed your favorite sweater, and gently opened the sliding door in your room, that led to a little porch. You tiptoed and went down the stairs, quickly running towards the enormous mansion. It was way closer than you had actually thought, and you saw a fence that probably led to the backyard. The fence was tall, no way you could’ve climbed that thing.

But that wasn’t going to stop you.

Somehow you managed to get on top of the fence. It was pretty tall, but you found that if you climbed a tree, and then jumped off from there to the fence, maybe it could work.

It- it didn’t.

Well it did, but you landed on your face and you tried your best to hold back a cry. Still, not wanting to give up, you slowly stood up and walked into the garden.

You were trembling, afraid of the dark, and you were about to reach for your flashlight when you realized...that you hadn’t brought your flashlight.

Welp, you’re dead now, I guess.

You mentally slapped yourself and gulped. There was no one around, and who knows when an opportunity like this might come again? But at the same time, it was way too dark, and you were going to be looking for ghosts. That was way too scary, especially without a flashlight. Then, an idea popped into your head. How about, you go running to your house, quickly grab the flashlight and then come back? You were pretty fast, and you were sure the ghosts couldn’t have noticed your presence yet.

You quickly turned around to go, open the fence door and race to your home, when you heard some footsteps behind you. And you froze.

“Who are you?” A voice said. It sounded like it belonged to a boy, but you didn’t want to find out if that was true or not, and you didn’t even turn around as you let out a small scream. You quickly ran towards the door, struggling a bit to open it.

Fuck it was stuck.

You pushed and pushed, the sound of footsteps coming closer towards you, and a different deeper voice coming from inside the house. Finally, the door bulged and opened, and you took your chance to run away. You didn’t stop until you were safe, under your covers and with all your plushies surrounding you.

That was scary as fuck.

You weren’t able to sleep that night.

When your mother woke you up at 6am, you stared up groggily at her, and she scolded you about staying up late, and that no matter how tired you were, she wanted to see all your work done when she came home.

You of course, decided to leave at lunch time to go and talk with Eun and Bada. You hadn’t seen them in a while and you were actually pretty hungry, the only thing that your mother had left you was another container filled with spaghetti and you were honestly tired of eating it for both lunch and dinner four days in a row.

So, you took your leave and followed the little path towards the village, this time stopping to admire the whole place. The village was up on some mountains, so you were able to see the sea from up above. You could see some men in boats, carrying heavy bags filled with fish, and women with scuba diving equipment coming out of the water. Then, when you looked up towards the other mountain, you saw what looked like a temple. It was red and huge, and you made a mental note to ask both Eun and Bada about it.

Finally, you made it to their house, and you were about to knock on the door, when Bada suddenly opened it.

She was going to say something when she looked down at you and you gave her a big smile.

“Well look who’s back! If it isn’t our little explorer. Found anything interesting these past few days?” She asked, as she motioned for you to come inside. You replied to Bada that, yes you had actually found some very interesting things, but before she could reply Eun came out from the shower, her hair dripping wet, and singing some really catchy song in another language. Then she stopped, looked at you and squealed, running over and giving you a tight hug.

“Hey Y/N! How’s your little ghost adventure going? Come come, we were about to have some lunch, you came at the perfect time! Oh sir here! And tell me everything about it, I don’t want you to skip over any detail.” She gently shoved you into a chair and then gave you a plate full of some Korean dish you didn’t really know the name of, but looked absolutely delicious.

As the two women sat down in front of you, you explained your adventure with the ghost yesterday.

“There was really someone there! He even talked to me!” You said.

Eun raised and eyebrow and gave you a quizzical smile. “Really? Do you have any proof?”

You quickly stopped and became quiet. Dammit!

“I...I don’t have any yet! But, there really was someone there! Seriously! I just...I forgot to bring my camera....” you confessed.

“Well there you go! You need evidence if you want to convince us you know?”

“You mean convince you. I believe in ghost and I think it’s probable that Y/N saw one.” Badda said, as she glared at Eun.

“Ah Bada seriously! Listen kiddo, I will admit that ghosts are real if I actually get to see one. If you manage to give me evidence I’ll believe you, but for now you don’t have any proof.”

“I will get some! You’ll see!” You confidently said.

The rest of the evening passed by quickly, as Bada explained about the temple up in the mountain. Appears you it was a temple that was able to grant each person one wish.

After wards you thanked them for the food and then you quickly looked at your watch and let out a little yelp. “Oops! I have to go now! Thank you for the food, it was great!”

“Wait Y/N, what about my book? Have you-”

“BYE BADA!” You quickly said and left the house in a hurry before Bada could finish her sentence.

You could hear her grumbling and Eun laughing from the other side of the door and you smiled.

You were going to get that evidence!

You quickly went home, and then started working on your homework.

......

That day, as you stared at your blank notebook while sitting on your desk, you went through the events that had happened last night.

There was certainly a ghost there, maybe even two, since you had heard two people talking. The ghost knew you were already there though, and that would make things hard. So you decided to make up a plan to show Eun and Bada that you were telling the truth. You quickly grabbed your pencil and took off a blank page from your notebook.

Ghost hunting plan:

You wrote, and then you bit the end of your pencil as you thought about what to do.

First of all, you had to bring a flashlight. That was one of the things that was the most important. You weren’t going to deal with two ghosts, in the dark.

Second, you had to bring your camera. That was on the top of the priority list too, since you did need it to take a picture of the ghost.

Still...you were pretty shaken up from yesterday and you didn’t want to be completely alone.

What if you brought one of your favorite toys? No that would make the whole process of climbing the fence harder....and if you were to bring something else, it definetly had to be that book about ghosts. Somewhere in there had to be some sort of ritual or spell or something, that would protect you from ghosts. So you decided to bring it!

And hell, to do it that same night!

Satisfied with your plan, and now a bit more confident with everything, you started doing the homework you mother had left you. Normally you would leave it and do it at the last moment, but today you were inspired and you had to have everything ready for the ghost hunting trip!

When your mother came home she immediatly went to bed, taking your work and locking her door. You then did your normal bedtime routine, washing the dishes, brushing your teeth and taking a warm shower. But then, instead of going to sleep, you sat on your bed with the book in your hands, and you counted down till your mother was asleep.

It was about 10pm, you could hear your mother snoring al the way from her room, and you slowly stood up and grabbed your sweater, some sneakers, the flashlight, the camera and the book. Of course you couldn’t hold everything at once, so the book was in a tiny backpack, and the camera was hanging from your neck. Alright! You were now ready!

Slowly, you opened the sliding doors, and tiptoed out of the porch. You turned on your flashlight and began walking towards the mansion, your camera ready. The lens cap protector thing, was off, and you had night vision on, so you were pretty good!

You finally made it towards the fence, and managed to climb it, this time without falling flat on your face. You gave a little victory dance as you looked around the garden.

It was...really beautiful.

The garden was filled with all kinds of flowers, purple, yellow, red, blue, and there were the bushes you had always heard about! One was in the shape of an elephant, the other one was in the shape of a horse and on and on. In the center of the garden, there was a huge fountain, that was turned off at the moment, which was a bit disappointing. There was also a stone path, that went all around the garden and then probably led somewhere inside the house.

You stood there for a bit, admiring the view. Yesterday was so dark, and you were so scared that you hadn’t been able to see anything. But tonight the moon was out, shining brightly and illuminating everything in front of you. It was beautiful.

Then, you heard some footsteps, and you quickly hid behind a bush. That’s right, you were here looking for a ghost, not to gape at that wonderful garden!

Dammit Y/N, pull yourself together! You thought, as you tried to figure out where the footsteps were coming from. You cowered a bit as they came closer and closer, almost in front of you. You slowly peeked from behind the bush, and saw a silhouette.

A boys silhouette to be more precise. He looked to be around your age, and he was wearing blue stripped pijamas, his hair all messy on top of his head. It was clear he had just woken up, and was looking for something...or for someone.

You.

Drat! You thought. The ghost of the little boy already knew you were going to come back again! Maybe you should have waited a few days before coming back, but you were just so impatient.

Anyway, you had to make up a plan. You had left the fence door open in case you needed to make an impromptu escape, and you gave yourself a pat in the back for thinking that far ahead. What you had to do now, was to take a picture of the ghost. Slowly, very,very slowly you raised your camera to get a picture of the ghost.

He had his back to you, the moonlight shining behind him, giving him a very paranormal aura. Still, for some reason the lense wouldn’t focus, so you decided to move forward a bit to get a better look. Sadly, you miscalculated and you accidentally stepped on a dry leaf, making the ghost turn around in your direction, his face filled with worry but at the same time, confidence.

Then you stopped.

Damn he was cute.

You hadn’t seen his face till now, and you were taken aback by it. He was definetly a very good looking boy, one the girls in your class might go all crazy about. Never in your life had you felt something like you were feeling now. Could it be....love at first sight?

No! He’s a ghost, I can’t fall in love with a ghost, how would that even work?! You scolded yourself. Still, you didn’t stop your staring at the boy. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice you were there, and before you could even think about it, you pressed the camera button and a loud CLICK was heard through the bushes.

And then a bright light came on.

You forgot to turn off the flash.

The boy let out a surprised gasp, and called out, but before he could once again catch you, you quickly got up and ran away from the place. You heard the footsteps following behind you, but you were faster and a few minutes later you didn’t hear anything else, and you slowed your pace.

That was close.

You triumphantly smiled as you looked through the pictures on your camera. Granted they weren’t super high quality, but you could make out the boys silhouette.

Hehe, now to become a millionaire! You celebrated. You sneaked back into your room and placed your camera and flashlight on your desk. Then you were going to grab your paranormal book from your backpack when...you didn’t find anything.

What?

You turned your backpack upside down and staked it as hard as possible, but still nothing would come out.

Bada’s book.

Oh no.

Oh no.

If Bada found out you lost her book, you wouldn’t be able to have lunch at her home ever again! And you would loose the only...friends (?) you had in this island. You couldn’t allow that! You always had to return what you borrowed, that was one thing your mother would always say, and this time she was right! After all, Bada lent you soemthing really important to her, and you couldn’t bear to think about coming back to her home empty handed.

Still...you weren’t going to go back into the house. It was way to dark now, you were sleepy and you were sure the ghost was porbably waiting in the garden, somewhere.

What to do, what to do? You asked yourself as you put on your pijamas and laid in bed.

It must have fallen off somewhere along the way, you thought, so maybe you wouldn’t have to go into the garden after all.

Then you got it!

What if, tomorrow morning you went into the garden? There weren’t going to be any ghosts since it was daytime, you reasoned, and it would be way easier to find the book. After all, there would be no one around the mansion to scold you, or to tell you to leave! It was the perfect plan!

You tucked yourself into bed and looked up confidently at the ceiling. You were going to get that book!

[karajaynetoday]

ours, for the rest of forever | ashton irwin

Hello friends! Here is a godparent!Ash one shot, based on this blurb about being godparents with Ashton and also inspired in part by that scene in Season 5 of One Tree Hill when Brooke is randomly looking after a baby but has to also finish fashion sketches so Lucas comes to her rescue with babysitting and it is overall very soft and cute. You know the one! Lol. 

A very big thank you to Jex @sadistmichael​ , Anna @cheekysos​ , Jae @jae-writes-fanfiction​ and Hailey @talkfastromance4​ for proof-reading and providing feedback on this when it was in its draft stages. You’re all absolute gems! 

Anyway, enjoy the softness and as always, please let me know what you think! I’ve got some thoughts for a potential part 2, so we’ll wait and see how part 1 goes :)

(This is a fem reader insert)

Word count: 3.3k words

Warnings: none

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

When your best friend Alice told you she was having a baby, you were over the moon. She was honestly one of the most kind-hearted people you knew, and the amount of love in her heart for others would only bloom more for a little baby to hold and cherish. Her partner James had been by Alice’s side since your university days, and their relationship was one that was literally #goals. They’d moved over to Los Angeles because James had an opportunity to work at an indie creative agency working with music artists, and when you followed a year or so later to pursue a consulting job, they’d welcomed you with open arms into the little community they’d formed of Australian ex-pats, LA creatives and generally good quality, salt of the earth people. 

In the early days, there were lots of late nights (that became early mornings) running amok in West Hollywood, going from one house party to the next, but as you grew older, it became more likely to be a quiet Sunday sesh in someone’s backyard, with a barbeque cooking and someone playing their favourite tunes on a portable speaker while you floated in the swimming pool or lounged about on the grass with everyone’s various pets in attendance. When you met Ashton, he was drumming shirtless at his own house party, and then doing shots with James and their friend Calum. You were more than a little intimidated, although he had a kind face and welcoming nature, Ashton was forthcoming his opinions. On the other hand, you were always more reserved, and it took you  time to feel like you belonged with their crazy crew of friends. One night, you and Ashton ended up alone in the kitchen sharing some chicken nuggets and potato gems tater tots after a wild night on the house part dancefloor, and from there you could feel a solid friendship starting to take hold. 

A few months after Alice and James told you they were expecting, they’d invited you and Ashton out to brunch at one of your favourite spots. It was a little hole-in-the-wall café in Studio City that you’d first come to after Ashton wouldn’t stop raving about how good their iced coffees were. You all ordered your favourites (avocado smash with a side of smoked salmon and a hash brown for you, raspberry hotcakes for Alice, a breakfast burger for James, and pulled pork eggs benedict with a side of halloumi for Ashton) and were chatting away about your weeks at work when Alice reached down and pulled two envelopes out of her tote bag and handed on to you and one to Ashton. You took them, looking confusedly at Alice and James, who had big goofy smiles on their faces.

“Well, go on! Open them!” Alice half-shouted excitedly, squeezing James’ hand on top of the table. You and Ashton glanced at each other, perplexed, before tearing open the envelopes and finding a card inside. Yours read, “Will you be my godmother?” in gold writing on the front, and inside was an ultrasound photo with a handwritten note from Alice that made you tear up when you started reading it. You could see in your peripheral vision that Ash had a corresponding card in his envelope too, and he was standing up to give James and Alice a hug with an enthusiastic “Fuck YES! Of course I will!” that garnered some disapproving looks from the middle-aged women sitting near you. You held it together just enough to stand up and exchange hugs and choke out a “Y-y-yes” to Alice and James, before basically bursting into full blown tears of happiness and apologising profusely as your brunch was delivered to the table. As you wiped away your tears and managed to begin eating your avocado smash, you felt Ashton squeeze your hand reassuringly under the table, and when you glanced towards him he was grinning at you with a smile that was as bright as a thousand suns. 

It was a normal June day at the office a few months later when your phone pinged with a text from Alice in your group chat with her, James and Ashton that 

 read “It’s go-time. We’ll keep you updated!”. You replied with lots of exclamation points and crying emojis, and for Alice and James to let you know if they needed anything, and a few minutes later Ashton had penned a full paragraph about the beauty of the creation of life, how he knew that Alice and James would be incredible parents, and that he couldn’t wait to meet the little one once they made their way into the world. Ashton was frustratingly eloquent sometimes. Later that night, you received a photo message of a small, pink baby snuggled up on Alice’s chest, with James’ arm thrown around her shoulders, and the caption “Charlie Rose, ten fingers, ten toes. Come visit tomorrow, she can’t wait to meet you x” and you could barely sleep from the anticipation of meeting your darling goddaughter for the first time.

Ashton insisted on meeting you at the hospital so you could visit Alice, James and Charlie together (“Dude, we’re a godparent team here! A package deal! A dynamic duo! Can’t have you getting in there as the favourite from day one!”) and you’d never seen him more gentle or smitten than when the small, wriggly bundle of blankets that was Charlie Rose was placed in his arms. Ashton rocked her gently, kissing her head, and whispering to her about how incredible she was and how excited he was to see her grow. James was snapping away with his camera, and he asked you and Ash to stand together for a photo holding Charlie, which would later be stuck on your fridge for years to come (and possibly be your phone lockscreen, but no need to mention that to Ashton). 

Charlie was a tricky baby at first, resisting sleep and struggling with colic, but Alice and James were incredible and persistent and by the time she was 6 months old, they basically had the hang of this parenting thing. They didn’t want to christen Charlie in a church, but instead decided to hold one of your cherished backyard barbeques as a naming celebration for her. All of your nearest and dearest were there, and Alice’s mum had even flown in from Australia to meet her newest granddaughter. Despite it being an incredibly informal affair, Ashton insisted on making a speech about how he felt to be in Charlie’s life, to love and support her through every milestone and challenge she might encounter along the way. Charlie was happily gurgling in Ashton’s arms as he spoke, and she reached up to grab at his cheeks when he told her he loved her. Alice’s mum insisted on getting photos of everyone, including you and Ashton holding Charlie, and you tried to ignore the butterflies you felt when Ash slid his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side for a cosy photo pose. Were you actually starting to fall for him, or was it just the baby fever talking? Because damn, that man looked good with a baby in his arms.

When Charlie was almost 12 months old, Alice decided that she wanted to go back to work a few days a week. Charlie would be in childcare for most of the days, but you’d recently adopted a flexible working arrangement with your own office, and you insisted that you would love to look after Charlie for one day a week. The older Charlie got, the more adventurous she became, so what you’d originally envisioned as nice, quiet days of baking and craft activities and napping soon became full of visits to the playground and the beach and the zoo. Once Ashton heard about your regular babysitting day, he insisted on clearing his schedule as best he could, and joined the outings you and Charlie went on. It’s so much easier to cope with her boundless energy (and occasional temper tantrums) when you and Ash are together, and you have to admit it’s just as nice on the quieter days as well, when you snuggle in on your couch to watch a Disney movie, or do some puzzles with Charlie on the lounge room floor. 

When Ashton was back out on tour, he’d insist on FaceTiming with you and Charlie on your babysitting day so he didn’t miss out on all the fun. Sometimes he’d read her a story or sing her a lullaby before naptime, and sometimes the timezones wouldn’t work out and he’d end up calling during naptime, so the two of you just spent a little time catching up on each other’s lives from your opposite sides of the country or the planet. Ashton also loved collecting little souvenirs for Charlie on his touring travels, and your group chat with Alice and James was regularly filled with photos of snow globes or little soft mascot toys he’d found in one city or the next. It was so cute how excited Ashton got when he found a new souvenir for Charlie, and you couldn’t help but imagine how adorable he’d be when he had his own children and carried on little traditions like this for them too. 

One particular weekend, Alice and James were going away overnight to attend a friend’s wedding nearby, and despite their anxiety and nerves (and admittedly, your own), they decided to leave Charlie with you for the night as your house is the main one besides their own that she spends time in. They dropped Charlie off just after lunchtime, and after a teary goodbye, she’s soon happily playing with her toy cars and trains on the lounge room carpet (including making broom-broom noises, what a cutie) when you get an unexpected call from your boss. They’re rambling about a client needing an urgent rewrite on something that you’d submitted the previous day, a pretty sizeable project, and you could feel yourself starting to fill with dread at the idea of having to rework the entire thing while also keeping Charlie happy and entertained. After managing to jot down the gist of the rewrite on the back of a colouring in page you found on your coffee table and ending the call with your boss, you took a deep, calming breath before looking over to where Charlie was still playing on the floor. Sure, she looked content and adorable now, but nap time was fast approaching, and then dinner, and then eventually bedtime, and there was nothing Charlie liked more than stomping her feet and putting up a fight where sleep was involved. It was time to call for help, and your fingers found Ashton’s contact in your phone and hit “call” before you realised what you were doing.

“Hey, how’s it going with my favourite girl?” Ashton answered cheerily, and your heart stopped beating for a moment before you mentally face-palmed when you realised that he was talking about Charlie, not you, being his favourite girl.

“Hey Ash! All good so far, but um… I think I’m going to need some help. My boss is having a crisis, so I need to smash out some edits and new content in the next three hours, but Charlie’s due to go for a nap and you know that she -” You could feel yourself starting to sound more panicked with each word that you spoke, but Ashton quickly cut you off with his soothing voice.

“That she likes to pick a fight at nap time, yes. A truly assertive future world leader on our hands, I reckon. I’m just finishing up a demo, but I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I’ll sort dinner as well, spaghetti sound okay?” He mused, sounding as calm as ever.

“That… would be amazing. Thank you. You’re actually the best human to exist, you know that?” You gushed, feeling some of your anxiety immediately begin to disappear. 

Within half an hour, Ash was in your lounge room handling Charlie’s nap time negotiations while you were furiously typing away at your laptop at the kitchen counter and fielding more frantic phone calls from your boss. Another 20 minutes passed before Ash proclaimed victory as Charlie lost her battle against sleep, and he came to see you in the kitchen and make a start on dinner. You were so lost in your task that you didn’t hear him come in, and you jumped a mile out of your seat in fright when he gently touched your shoulder in greeting.

“Jesus christ, Ash! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You huffed, taking your glasses off and rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. 

Ashton leaned on the counter opposite you and raised his eyebrows in concern. “Sorry love, didn’t realise you didn’t hear me come in. You good?” 

Damn it, why was he always so nice to you these days? Remember the days when you were scared of him because he used to argue with you about politics and the state of the world? Why did those seem somehow easier because fear was more natural to you than whatever this other feeling was that you were starting to have whenever Ashton was around you. 

You sighed and put your glasses back on, frowning briefly at the screen before hitting save one more time (just in case your bad luck took a turn and fucked you over with lost documents). 

“Yep. Sorry. It’s just been a bit of a day. Did Charlie go down okay?” You forced a smile as you glanced up at Ashton over the top of your laptop screen. 

“Yeah, she gave in once I offered another bedtime singalong. And maybe, juuuust maybe, I might have mentioned something about some sweets after dinner…” Ash looked at you guiltily, licking his lips nervously. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him, but you couldn’t keep the small smile off your face.

Ashton got started on making spaghetti while you tapped away at your computer, and soon enough you heard Charlie calling out for Ashton in her little sing-song voice on the baby monitor you had set up on the kitchen counter (“Asht-aaaaa! Where are youuuuu! Asht-aaaaa!”). The spaghetti smelled incredible, and when Ashton brought Charlie into the kitchen from her nap and she’d had a little while to play a bit more, you settled at the kitchen table to tuck into some dinner. Well, Charlie was more interested in playing with her food than actually eating it, but yours was delicious and for the third or fourth time that day, you thanked Ash profusely for being such a gem (to which he just gave you one of those dazzling smiles in response).  

After dinner, Ashton took Charlie for a bath and read her a bedtime story while you powered through the final part of the project edits you needed to finish before your boss burst a blood vessel. You could hear Ashton reading to Charlie on the baby monitor, doing all of the different character voices, and her little giggles in response were both breaking and warming your heart. Warming it with the cuteness and how much you loved that little girl and her cheeky soul, and breaking it with the guilt about how it was supposed to be you snuggled up reading to her, but instead you were frantically typing about key messages, marketing strategies and budget lines. You were doing your last section of re-writes when Ash came back into the kitchen, and this time you didn’t jump when he gently placed his hands on your shoulders. In fact, you leaned into his touch, and moaned quietly in relief as his thumbs began to work into the tension in your muscles.

“How’s it going?” Ashton asked quietly, continuing to press his hands into your back and shoulders.

“Almost there. Mostly just proof-reading now, and then I can send it and not fucking think about it for another second until at least Monday. Ash, I’m so sorry again, I know this isn’t what you had in mind for your Friday night and I should’ve been more organised but I just didn’t think that -” You began to ramble, feeling the guilt wash over you.

“Hey, hey. Stop. It’s fine. We’re a team, remember? The dynamic duo? Gotta stick together. We’ve got a whole lifetime of dealing with Charlie meltdowns and milestones ahead of us, love. It’s our job and our blessing, for the rest of forever. Don’t feel guilty over one night.” Ashton said softly, squeezing your shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. There were those butterflies again, and your skin was almost burning from where his hands had touched you. You simply nodded at his words, before returning to your laptop and the task at hand. Ashton stepped away and quietly began washing the dishes (honestly, is there anything this man didn’t do?) as you began typing again. 

Finally, about twenty minutes later, you hit send on the email to your boss with the completed rewrites, and shut your laptop with a deep sense satisfaction, letting out a triumphant whisper-yell, mindful of the sleeping child down the hallway from you. Ash looked up from where he was sat on the couch, scrolling on his phone, and rushed over to high-five you when he realised that you’d shut your laptop.

“Right. You go shower and I’ll put the kettle on, then it’s one episode of Sons of Anarchy and then off to bed with you.” Ash began, tugging you out of your seat and pushing you towards your bedroom before you could protest.

“Wait… how did you know I was watching Sons of Anarchy?!” You turned and asked, with one hand on the door to your bedroom.

“I was stalking through your Netflix earlier when you were lost in editing land. Plus, I know you can’t resist a charming male lead who has a killer smile and looks damn good in a leather jacket.” Ash chuckled, shooting you a wink and one of those goddamn smiles. 

You hated to admit it, but you felt so much better after your shower, and having Ash pull your feet up over his lap and absentmindedly run his hands softly across your legs from time to time wasn’t exactly bad either. You stuck to your promise of only one episode of Sons of Anarchy, and after pulling your groaning self up off the couch and jokingly half-carrying you to your bedroom door, Ashton bid you goodnight with a hug and a kiss to the forehead before disappearing into your guest room. 

As you settled into your own bed, alone, and pulled the blankets up over you, you couldn’t help but think how nice it was to have Ash so present with you and with Charlie, and how sweet it would be in the morning to wake up together in the same house and go for breakfast at your favourite little brunch spot down the street, before waiting for James and Alice to return in the early afternoon. It was all your own little family unit, and as you felt yourself being lulled into sleep, you also felt a deep sense of content in your heart about the loved ones in your life. And then also there were those butterflies, just slowly but surely making their presence known, and getting a little bigger every time you thought of Ashton, and how much he loved Charlie, and how much she loved him and you, and how much you loved them both.

Shit. Did you actually love him? Were you falling in love with Ashton Irwin? Before you could panic too much, the need for sleep won out, and you slept peacefully knowing two of your favourite people were also sleeping calmly in the rooms either side of you. 

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

[kitwilsonsass]

Since I’ve been putting it off due to lingering sicky feels, etc.

Here’s the far too long and far too unedited and written at 4am vacation rundown NO ONE ASKED FOR! (huzzah!)

So, yeah. I arrived at the new Amtrak station in the city which is a major upgrade from the trailer park reject of station the old one was. Way roomier. Could use a coffee stand or something but yeah. Improvement. Had to go underground under the tracks and back up to get to the very cold surface, it must suck in the winter.

About an hour, hour and a half into the trip I quickly realized that a.) all I wanted to do was sleep, and b.) that my throat was burning. I assumed this was due to the absurdly cold, non-stop dry ass air conditioning, but no. This bitch got sick for her entire trip. On the plus side I had the seats to myself for the majority of the trip, but still. I barely watched any CR or anything because I was miserable the entire time. Ya don’t wanna be miserable for 10+ hours on a train.

Got to Boston, to @conniecorleone‘s frightening apartment stairs. My bag was way too heavy and she troopered through taking it up them for me without dying. So if you ever need a tank in battle, call Rachel.

Hung out a little. Ordered some Five Guys. Watched a couple episodes of the first season of American Horror Story. I get the appeal but also never needed to see Dermot Mulroney’s ass.

Rach was busy with work stuff a lot early in the week, not helped by some dumbass school shooting threat the week before and kept apologizing while still going above and beyond as a hostess while I just felt guilty for getting snot on her sheets.

Day two I colored a bit. I can do a wicked water gradient with erasable colored pencils, for the record. Hung out. Relaxed. Used a lot of Zicam and Advil. Then we were on way to The Middle East for her conehead space boyfriend.

We waited like, an hour? In the chilly mist outside? The show started like AN HOUR LATE after that. The venue was nice but man, the mood was getting close to dead at points, especially since, again, FUCKIN SICK. But Planet Booty came on and while, a little on the bordering too raunchy side, put on a fucking amazing live show. Dylan has an absurd amount of energy that should be bottled and sold, but if it were it might result in the orgypocalypse. I saw a youtube comment that said he’s ‘very touchy lol’ and truer words never spoken. That man will grind on you and sing directly in your earlobe with his tongue if you are front row and happily, I was not. Yet somehow I still ended up with his sweat on my sweater sleeve thanks to someone being a dumbass and high fiving him after their set and not being able to handle the consequences. Ahem.

THEN TWRP TOOK LIKE ANOTHER GODDAMN HALF HOUR???

But I FORGIVE THEM because they were GREAT and played Daft Punk’s Celebrate in honor of motherfuckin Canadian Thanksgiving so... fine... I guess. My only complaint is they didn’t do The Perfect Product even though I get that’s probably a weird thing to do live. Also minimal keytar and Sung almost decapitated himself but you know... it happens. They DID do Tactile Sensation though which is a fucking jam. And Atomic Karate, ofc. And Meouch broke his fucking bass string which is like? Fucking hardcore? He came down like a foot away from us at one point. It was dope. They’re amazing live and have no right to be for dudes in ridiculous robot costumes playing synth in the year 2018 and rolling around stage on a hoverboard. Sadly I brought minimal memory cardage this year and didn’t get a lot of good video of them.

Afterwards, despite *someone* almost passing out, we hung out in the merch lines and did NOT accidentally cut ahead this time. I got a free signed poster because it was my birthday vacation ayyyyy and bought a couple EPs and the Together Through Time album. Then hopped over the PB’s line and got two hugs from Dylan who hung out and talked to/hugged/got selfies with every single person who got into line there and just? Good dude. Pure dude. Awful stache but... thumbs up human being. I got their Naked album and we headed out back to the apartment and some delivered Dominos (which was the only good Dominos I’ve ever had in my life.)

Day three I accidentally slept until like 4pm. Literally what else did we do that day? I cannot remember for the life of me. We might have went to Dunkin at like 9pm and she showed me a weird omnipotent plastic ear hanging on an electric wire? Was that this day? I have no fucking idea. Her Netflix and supply of Puffs tissues were my best friends this trip okay.

Day four she went to class and I relaxed and intended to walk to the mall. Unfortunately, my sick bleh hit and I didn’t feel up to going until about ten minutes before she got back. So we ended up heading over there together. I made her try Baja Blast, as is customary in my nation, and got her to try some green matte lipstick. Success. I was highkey hoping they would have a Build-A-Bear in the joint but they didn’t. They did have a Newbury though, that had the six-inch Roadhog pop which I’ve had a hard time finding locally, so I said fuck it and bought it.

That night was MST3k live! The theater was old as dirt. The kind of old as dirt where the flooring is bowing in. They had real strict rules on cameras and shit, which I get for the sake of spoilers but c’mon.... c’mon. Their merch sucked unfortunately though, so I didn’t waste any money on anything (for some reason they had 2017 tour stuff? It’s... not 2017?). The show itself was good, though I was wondering before it started how sick they must get of doing the same movie in different towns almost every other night. Pretty quickly realized oh, yeah, a lot of this show was likely pre-riffed. They did pull a kid from the stage at one point so he could guest riff off a script from Joel, which I’m thinking was a clever little insert fraction of the riff they did live between segments. I could be wrong, but on that front, it felt a little cheap. But it was still fun to see the boys and the bots live and have jokes cracked about not being able to afford the villains for the tour. And The Brain itself was........ I don’t know what I was expecting but..... it sure was.... something. The novelty was worth it and I will still gladly marry Crow T. Robot.

We went across the street to a little pub stop that was I think called Rock Bottom after that and got some much needed late night food. For some reason my brain was like “man, I could go for chicken fried steak right now” and don’t you know IT WAS ON THE FUCKIN MENU? WITH GARLIC CHEDDER MASHED POTATOES? Boston, much like with wings, does not know what country gravy is, but it was still everything I fucking wanted and did not expect to find, so A+. Also I was wearing a dress with shorts underneath it and stuck to the goddamn stool. Such is life.

Day five was rainy and miserable. I tagged along to university with Rach and it sucked, honestly. Being on a campus makes me feel awkward and the whole still being sick thing didn’t help. I ended up taking a walk way around the block to a Starbucks and getting the worst fucking frap I’ve ever paid too much money for. Went back around. Sat in the library. Felt even shittier. Started googling food places. Yard House wasn’t far but I didn’t want to deal with crossing a lot of traffic, especially if the rain started back up (it did, with a vengeance). So I ended up back around the block at some Olive Garden-esque fake Italian place with not an Italian in sight called Bertucci’s for some bland chicken-less fettuchini alfredo (because, as I’d reasoned with myself, I had chicken three times the day before). It was dimly lit, I had a booth to myself, and the water had the sweet skullet and braided beard combo I had liveblogged. People kept complimenting my tattoo. It was nice and no one seemed overly bothered that I was clearly killing time until I spent probably way too long in the restroom after trying to look alive. I tipped the dude ten bucks and left in the pouring rain with my umbrella.

From her school we took the world’s longest Uber to Parts Fucking Unknown in awful traffic and rain to find a Double Tree where @freakishlytallaustralian‘s parents were staying for a hot minute during their brief little US tour on their way to Europe. I’ve never met Mandi in person, but I’ve now met her parents who say she’s gotten to know a good bloke. She looks exactly like her mom. They were sweet. Anxious but sweet. And I am a freak who doesn’t talk and was sick trying to seem presentable at the bare minimum capacity.

Back ~home~ we ordered some JP Licks ice cream (BROWNIE BROWNIE BATTER!!! BROWNIE. BROWNIE. BATTER.), I watched CR and some stupid videos on the internet with her. Got some sleep. Sort of. Barely.

Despite Matt Mercer nearly succeeding at lulling me to sleep and eating my dreams, it didn’t happen, and I could not get comfortable for the life of me. The “coughing every five seconds in bed” started this night and was not having mercy. So I opted out of another day of hanging around campus to try and get some more rest. It didn’t really work, but I did eventually get a solid three hours or so, so it was something.

As the day progressed it was onward to the Science Museum to meet Ron the T-Rex. There was a wedding happening. How appropriate, for Bravier funko pops to have come along on the day of a blessed union. Coincidence? I think not. A turtle kept falling off a branch when he was trying to nap. There was some space stuff. It wasn’t great. But I got a little stuffed dinosaur and that’s Important.

From there we hit up the same movie theater we went to the year before and saw Bad Times At The El Royale. Do recommend. Chris Hemsworth as a Charles Manson was not something I ever thought I’d see, and I still don’t understand it, but it rather predictably works for me, so we’ll leave it at that. Good movie, good performances, good pacing and editing that could have easily not been. See it, it’s fun. Not perfect, but fun.

It was COLD AS BALLS after the movie and neither of us brought jackets or sweaters, so the walk to the train station and back ~home~ was a chilly one. We stopped in, got some warmth, and headed down the road past her old place to a bar. If we didn’t appreciate TWRP and PB enough already, the band she had to pay cover for us to get in for just to pick up food were about 8 upper middle aged men playing every instrument in the book. Afropunk, they said. No, we said. Offkey, we said. This place was dark as shit and loud as shit but you know what? They KNEW WHAT REAL, HOT CHICKEN WINGS WERE and for that, I am appreciative dammit.

Went back, got some more Dominos, and was finally introduced to John Mulaney’s (or two of) comedy specials. He’s genius and I *understand* it now, tumblr. I get it. We ate way too much and did my laundry.

The week had come and gone way too soon and I felt robbed of my good time by how shitty I felt. Hopping on the train the next day (after a godawful uber ride) was just as depressing as the time before. And even though I didn’t feel as miserable as the trip there, and once again had a window seat to myself, I found myself curled up against my hoodie crying trying to fall asleep again knowing I was already headed back home.

Once the initial depression passed, the trip wasn’t bad. The iced latte was good. The Albany stop not as confusing the second time around. The WiFi kept me company. Eventually my aunt texted me asking if I wanted to hit up Stevie T’s on the way home because they were 24hr and neither of us had eaten all night. It was a plan. Get off, get food, come home, faceplant on my own big comfy bed, vow to deal with my dad’s drama in the morning and call it a night.

Then *that* happened. Yeah. Last year? Every stop, regardless of time of night, they made announcements. They came by, checked the marker above your seat, and if you were due off at the next stop told you it was coming up, would help with luggage if needed, and directed you to the correct door to exit the train. This year? Nothing. They decided to stop making announcements right before the Rochester stop, and no one came by in our car to tell us where to get off. Stopped, myself and the other person due off at that stop, a late-teens girl, went to the door at the front of our car where every other stop had gotten off before us. We assumed since no one said differently, and no attendants were around, that must be it. We were idiots. Because by the time we realized hey, they’re not going to open this door and we should go to the far other end of the train, it was already moving again en route to Buffalo.

We found ourselves in the dining booths by the cafe car while the staff made vague remarks and the conductor acted like it wasn’t his problem. My aunt on the phone talked to the Rochester station, we tried to claim I didn’t even have a reservation until about two other people looked up my ticket. They said it was up to the conductor to get us a cab home, he laughed at us, claimed to know nothing about any of that, and asked if were were going to buy the bus tickets the other girl was looking up. The bus for 3am, in downtown Buffalo, nowhere near the station. When we got off the staff at the Depew station was a lot more sympathetic, and said since nothing else was being offered he would put us on the next train back home, but since it was a Sunday morning there was no train to Rochester until roughly 7:45am. It was about 1:30 at this point. I felt awful for encouraging the other girl not to pay for two ubers and a bus ticket with the only alternative being offered to sit alone in an empty, unstaffed station in the middle of the night for hours. And between the situation, being tired and still sick, and dealing with my aunt calling hotels only to get put on hold and lose the room she was trying to reserve - I put my bags in a corner, found the restroom, and had a panic attack. I don’t know why, but those tend to be stupid like that. It’s not even like I was scared, or confused, or that worried myself. I started out very ‘whatever, I’ll just get a room or stay in the station, I’m pissed but whatever’. But something about the constant calls and texts and my battery nearing 0 had me stressed and I was crying like a bitch. I just wanted to fucking sleep, and I knew that wouldn’t happen in a train station with nothing but some benches, a restroom, and a vending machine.

Rach suggested an alternative I felt guilty about taking but ended up going for: Get to her parents house just outside Buffalo, get their spare key, and sleep on their couch while they’re out of town with their blessing. So I called an Uber, and the first one passed me by, with the gps fucking up and saying I should be picked up ON THE TRAIN TRACKS. The second guy was smart enough to come to the cab pickup out front and was really cool. He said he was just thankful I wasn’t a fucked up drunk college party kid and the first all night. He didn’t comment on how I probably definitely looked like I’d just been broken up with in the world’s worst romcom. It was over 20 bucks and I tipped him the max. Found my way inside, set up the couch, and continued my momentarily on hold panic until I eventually passed out. My Aunt came to pick me up in the morning, I got carsick, we had mediocre diner breakfast and what’s after that isn’t news worth talking about. Isn’t it bad enough the tail end of the trip took up like a third of this post?

All in all... it felt like a disaster. I’m not gonna lie. In weird ways the stars aligned that TWRP would end up on Conan the night of their show and have to reschedule to the day I came to town, but I paid for it with otherwise bad timing and my body deciding against me having a good time. Fun was had, don’t get me wrong. The good was good and any chance to get away from... this, is appreciated, but it just seemed like everything went awry. 

Mucho thanks to @conniecorleone again, for letting me crash on the futon and be my usual bland self, even blander while ill, and also buying me expensive cold syrup and a-many ubers.

We’ll see if Massachusetts and I ever cross paths again.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @comedicdrama!

I hope you have a wonderful holiday, comedicdrama! <3

Rating: T Tags: cameraman!Stiles, painter!Derek, friends to lovers, fluff, so much fluff

*****

A Painting's Worth a Thousand Words

Stiles pulled up to the Hale house—the Hale mansion, really—and took a deep breath. It was just another show, exactly like they did every week at the studio.

Except this was the holiday show, and like every year, it would be just him and Derek in the Hale house basement for at least two hours, and then it would be a half hour drive over to the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary, at least an hour filming there, and a half hour drive back. Just the two of them. All day long.

Just Stiles, Derek, and Stiles's massive, unrequited crush.

They'd been working together for five years, since Derek had pitched the local public TV station on a painting program. It had been an unexpected hit—well, unexpected to Derek and most of the station management. Stiles had taken one look at him—dark hair, chiseled jaw dusted with black scruff, intense stare, broad shoulders, and a clear passion for painting—and he'd known the show would be huge. Even with people who'd never picked up a paintbrush in their lives.

Stiles had begged to be put on Derek's show. Thankfully, the station management hadn't needed too much convincing, and he and Derek had been together ever since.

Professionally. They'd been together professionally ever since.

Stiles really hadn't meant to go and fall head-over-heels for Derek. Early on, it had been easy enough to chalk it up to physical attraction and move on. But then he got to know Derek, saw how much he loved teaching people to paint, saw how much he loved his family and talking about their nonprofit work at the sanctuary, saw how earnest he was with people who enjoyed the show, and...

Well, at some point in the past five years, it had just happened. And now Stiles spent an inordinate amount of his life pining for one of his coworkers and closest friends. Really, that was just his fucking life.

He sighed, grabbed his camera and tripod, and proceeded to go begin one of the best and most excruciating days of his life.

***

Derek was wearing black-rimmed glasses and a green Christmas tree sweater that brought out the green in his multicolored eyes. He'd pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing tanned forearms with a dusting of dark hair across them.

Stiles bit his lips to keep from making a pained noise and hoisted his tripod in greeting. "Hey, Derek! Ready to get started?"

"Just about," Derek said. "I'm still getting everything set up."

"That's okay." Stiles set his tripod on the floor. "Just stand where you'll be painting and I'll do some lighting tests while you're setting up."

Derek grinned at him, a quick one that showed just a flash of his two front teeth, and Stiles's heart did its usual triple somersault at the sight.

The basement at the Hale house was only a "basement" in the sense that it was the lowest floor of the house and partly underground. It had east-facing floor-to-ceiling windows that let in loads of natural light and a gorgeous view of the Beacon Hills Nature Preserve, and the whole thing was bigger than Stiles's apartment and fully decked out for Christmas. Derek's studio area was just one-quarter of it, and Stiles was pretty sure that part alone was bigger than his kitchen and living room combined.

Derek had an easel and canvas set up, and was squeezing his paint out onto a palette and frowning at the canvas, like he was still trying to figure out what to paint. Or maybe figuring out how to talk about it; even after five years, Stiles still wasn't a hundred percent sure how it worked.  Derek usually just...stood up and talked while he was painting and his eyes actually glowed with happiness and Stiles mostly focused on making sure that he got the shots, the audio, and didn't drool on himself.

Once he got his camera set up, he walked around the basement and adjusted the blinds and curtains, flicking lights on and off until he got a lighting setup he was happy with. He might have to get a few lights out of the Jeep after they actually did test shots, but right now, he could probably make it work with just the lights in the basement.

He went back to his bags and got out the lapel mic. "Okay, Derek, mic time."   

Derek stood up and lifted the back of his shirt, giving Stiles a glimpse of the strip of skin of his lower back.

Professional, Stiles scolded himself, and hooked the transmitter on to Derek's belt before handing him the mic to thread up through his shirt.

"You sure we need this?" Derek asked with a wrinkled nose, like he did every time.

"Yes." Stiles poked him in his unfairly muscled arm. "We always need to have two audio tracks, you know that. I'd hate to miss out on the scintillating way you say 'phthalo blue' because the shotgun cut out and we didn't have a backup. Come on, let's get started and see if I need to grab any more lights out of the car."

"There should be some in the closet," Derek said, pointing.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Wait, what? You have lights?"

Derek shrugged. "We shoot out here often enough that I thought it might be good to have a few lights as backup. Just in case."

Stiles went to the closet Derek had indicated. Sure enough, a lighting case and three C-stands sat on the floor, among the myriad other things in there.

Stiles gaped at them. "Dude, I can't believe you got me lighting stands!"

"It's better than you having to drive all the way back into town because you forgot them," Derek said.

Stiles whirled on him and jabbed a finger in his direction. "That was one time."

Derek snorted. "A memorable time."

Because he always dealt with his feelings in a mature way, Stiles stuck his tongue out at him.

Derek made a face right back, then went back and picked up his palette and brush. "Ready when you are."

Stiles hit the audio recorder, turned on the camera, and counted him in.

Derek smiled brilliantly, and it made Stiles's heart flutter the way it always did. "Hey, everyone. Glad you could join us today for our annual holiday show. As usual, we have a little bit of a change of scenery," he gestured to the room, "which I've used for inspiration for our painting today, since we don't exactly get a lot of snow in northern California. So we'll run the colors across the screen for you, and we'll go ahead and get started."

"Okay, cut!" Stiles said.

Derek frowned. "Everything good?"

Stiles checked the lighting on the video and then the mic recording. "Yeah, no, looks like we're good. Let's keep going."

Filming Derek's painting on location at the Hale house tended to be more stressful than filming at the studio, where Stiles had two extra cameras and way more lighting control. But the holiday episode was always a huge one for the station, and Stiles did enjoy the time they got to spend together here.

Listening to Derek talk about painting and watching him paint was probably Stiles's favorite part of his job. Derek always looked a little flushed and happy when he did, and he got visibly excited to see a painting come together. Even after five years of watching him do this once a week, Stiles still hadn't gotten over it.

They only had to cut twice, and before Stiles knew it, Derek was finishing up the painting and giving his traditional sign off, ending with, "And wherever you are, I hope you have the happiest of holiday seasons."

"Cut!" Stiles called.

Derek set his palette aside. "So what do you think? Does it look okay?"

"Dude." Stiles stretched, staring at the landscape painting of the wildlife preserve in winter. He'd watched Derek push paint around on the canvas for an hour and he still wasn't sure how it was done. "That's fantastic. I think this going to be your most popular holiday episode yet."

Derek ducked his head, but Stiles caught the edge of his smile. "You're just saying that."

"I never just say anything," Stiles said. "Well, sometimes I do, but not about things this important. Seriously, dude, it's good."

Derek scratched the back of his head. "Then you're biased."

"I probably am, but eh." Stiles's stomach rumbled. "Hey, you want to grab lunch somewhere before we head out to the wildlife sanctuary?"

"Actually, we've got food upstairs," Derek said. "My dad made spaghetti last night, and there are tons of leftovers. We also have some apple cider, if you want?"

"That sounds amazing," Stiles said.

The tips of Derek's ears turned red. "Okay, I'll go get it ready."

Stiles grabbed his computer and the memory cards out of the camera and audio recorder. "Then I'm going to dump the files while we're eating."

Stiles followed Derek up the stairs and settled at the kitchen table to dump the files onto his computer, and Derek got out the spaghetti and apple cider to heat up.

Stiles brought the first video files up to make sure everything had recorded correctly, and let out a sigh of relief when the file was clean; you only needed to have a file get corrupted once before it made you paranoid every time.

A mug of apple cider landed on the counter beside him. "How does it look?" Derek asked.

Wow, he was standing...very close. Stiles had to resist the urge to lean back into him. "It looks great, like I told you. I can't wait to put the whole thing together."

"We still need to get the footage from the wildlife sanctuary," Derek reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Stiles said. "What do you think, head out there around one?"

Derek took a sip of his cider. "That should work. As long as you get something to eat first."

"Dude, you're literally making me lunch right now." Stiles gestured at the microwave. "You act like I don't eat anything."

"You don't, unless Allison or I make you," Derek said. "How many times have I had to drag you away from your computer to get lunch?"

"Just once," Stiles muttered. "Or twice."

Derek poked him. "A week."

Stiles tried to elbow him, but Derek had moved out of reach. "It's not that often."

"It's often enough." Derek went to get the spaghetti out of the microwave and brought it over. "Now eat, and don't get too distracted watching the videos."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but he minimized the videos and dove into his spaghetti. Holy shit, it was fantastic. "Oh my God, I'm going to marry this pasta."

Derek coughed and turned to his own bowl. "I'll let Dad know you like it."

"Does he cook like this all the time? Because seriously, I will camp out in your backyard for table scraps."

Derek rolled his eyes. "We have plenty of bedrooms, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm sure we can stick you in one of those. Mom will never notice."

Stiles grinned at him. "You're a true friend."

Derek jabbed his fork into the spaghetti. "I try."

***

They drove out to the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary as soon as they'd finished eating, a good thirty minutes across the preserve from the Hale's house. Stiles spent most of the drive trying not to get distracted by Derek's forearms or his soft smile.

"We have a lot of new animals out there right now," Derek said. "Deer, wolf cubs, squirrels...which do you think would be best to feature?"

Stiles choked at the thought of Derek playing with any of them.  Derek and adorable animals was really his kryptonite. "Uh, I really don't think it matters. Any of them will be great. Which ones are you most comfortable with?"

"Any of them," Derek said. "I've been helping feed the wolf cubs when I come out to volunteer."

"That's good. Let's do that," Stiles said. "People will go crazy for adorable baby wolves."

"Cubs," Derek corrected him.

"And that's why you do the talking on camera," Stiles said with a wink.

Derek blushed and crossed his arms. "God knows you talk enough off it."

"Aw, come on, what would you do without my rambling?"

"Suffer in silence," Derek said, but he was grinning.

It made Stiles's heart flip, and he had to turn back to focus on the road.

The Hales had been running the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary as long as Stiles could remember. From what Derek had told him, the sanctuary was his parents' baby, and when they'd first started working together, it had been on the brink of shutting down. Since the painting show had started to take off and Stiles knew at least 50% of that popularity was due to the fact that Derek was hotter than the surface of the sun, he'd suggested featuring some of the animals on the show. The only thing better than watching an attractive man talk passionately about painting was watching him bottle-feed baby deer.

It had been even more popular than he'd hoped it would be, and now the wildlife sanctuary had doubled in size, added three more full-time positions, and featured a ton of cool educational programs Stiles would have killed for when he was in elementary school. It had also helped the popularity of Derek's show as well, which made station management supremely happy.

Stiles had never told anyone the only reason he'd had the idea was because Derek looked utterly gutted at the thought of the sanctuary shutting down, and Stiles would have hand-crafted a rocket out of bubble gum and paperclips to fly to the outer reaches of the solar system if it meant never seeing that look on Derek's face again.

The wildlife sanctuary wasn't terribly crowded, being that it was the middle of a work day and the schools weren't out for winter break yet, so the only person working was Laura, Derek's older sister, who waved excitedly when they walked in. "Hey! You guys are earlier than I expected."

Stiles hoisted his camera. "We got through the painting a lot faster than I thought we would because Derek's an overachiever."

Derek elbowed him. "Hey, I just paint. You're the one who makes it look good."

Laura made gagging noises. "Get a room, please."

Stiles's face heated. "Maybe we will. But make it with the baby wolves."

"Cubs. Wolf cubs. We literally just went over this," Derek said.

Laura raised her eyes to the ceiling and muttered something Stiles couldn't hear. "Okay, wolf cubs. Come on down the hall and I'll get you set up."

The baby wolves—wolf cubs—were even more adorable than Stiles had pictured, and he had a pretty good concept of what adorable looked like. Three gangly, fluffy grey wolves and one gangly, fluffy white wolf tripped all over Derek, chewing at his sweater and making squeaky howls and yips that were so cute Stiles was pretty sure he was going to get a cavity from it. They had to cut several times because Derek was laughing too hard to talk about the wolves and why they were at the sanctuary.

Stiles kind of wished someone would stab him and put him out of his misery, because this level of adorable was too much for one human being to physically handle.

On the other side of the room, Laura watched him with a terrifying smirk. Stiles was pretty sure she knew exactly what he was thinking, which helped him rein in the desire to just throw himself on Derek and pledge undying love. He sure as hell wasn't doing that in front of Derek's sister.

Despite the interruptions, they finished up the shoot in less than two hours, and Stiles had a boatload of footage with Derek and the wolf cubs to use in the holiday episode. Even better was that he had a ton of outtakes to use on the station website, which would make everybody happy.

Laura bid them farewell, staring at Stiles like she could see straight into his soul the entire time. Stiles steadfastly ignored her and really hoped she wouldn't say anything to Derek.

"Your sister's kind of scary sometimes," he said as they pulled away.

"She's harmless," Derek said. "Mostly."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Mostly harmless?"

Derek grinned. "Just like Earth."

Stiles laughed out loud. He knew Derek was a not-so-secret nerd, but he still got a kick out of it every time Derek made a reference.

"Do you have a minute?" Derek asked when they got back to the Hale house. "I have something to show you."

"Yeah, sure," Stiles said. He didn't really have anywhere else to be, and even though it was almost painful to be around Derek alone for so long, he didn't want the day to end.

He followed Derek back into the house and down to the basement, and Derek went to a stack of paintings under cloth in the back corner of the room. Stiles stayed back and watched him flip through the canvases until he apparently found the one he wanted and pulled it out.

He walked back to Stiles hesitantly, still holding the canvas backward so that Stiles couldn't see what it was.

His heart beat faster. "What you got there, big guy?"

Derek bit his lip. "I don't...paint people often. But, with this one, I wanted to try, and..." He trailed off and exhaled sharply, and then handed the painting to Stiles. "Here."

Stiles took the painting and slowly turned it around.

It was him.

He was laughing, his mouth wide open and his eyes crinkled at the corners, looking off to the left side of the canvas. The colors were so warm, it looked like he was glowing, and Stiles's heart seized in his chest.

"Where did you...how did you...?" he tried to ask, but the words wouldn't come.

"It was a picture Allison took at one of the station parties earlier this year," Derek said quietly. "I had her send me a copy. I probably threw away five pieces before I was happy with that one. It was...really hard to get right."

He felt completely winded. "Holy shit, Derek."

Derek winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, I—"

"Don't you dare apologize," Stiles said. He couldn't take his eyes off the painting, because holy fuck Derek had painted him. "Don't—oh my God, dude, this is—"

He didn't have words. For once in his life, Stiles was utterly speechless.

He set the painting down, walked over to Derek, and kissed him right on the lips.

Derek blinked dazedly when Stiles pulled back. "Uh."

"I'm kind of in love with you," Stiles blurted out. "Maybe a lot in love with you. Holy shit, I can't believe you painted me. Do you want to go out for coffee sometime?"

Derek laughed softly. "I feel like we went in reverse order there."

"Dude, you painted me," Stiles said. "I'm pretty sure that's one step before engagement."

Derek flushed bright red. "I think that's moving a little too fast. But...coffee would be nice. Or maybe dinner?"

"Dinner would be fantastic," Stiles said. "And, to be perfectly honest, I would not be opposed to more kissing. Better kissing. That one was really just because I had no idea what to say because you fucking painted me."

Derek grinned and bent his head toward Stiles's. "So, I take it you liked the painting?"

Stiles linked his hands behind Derek's neck. "Yes, Derek, I liked the pain—"

Derek kissed him, and Stiles had never been happier to shut up in his life. And he was right: this was way better kissing. Derek was probably better at kissing than he was at painting, and he was awesome at painting.

"You know, uh, if you ever want me to actually sit for you to paint, I'd do it," Stiles said when they finally stopped making out long enough to breathe.

"You'd have to sit still for a few hours," Derek said. "I'm not sure you could manage it."

Stiles poked him in the shoulder. "Hey, you'd be surprised what I could do for you."

Derek's smile went soft. "Oh, yeah?"

Heat crept up the back of Stiles's neck, and he fought the urge to look away. "Well. Yeah. Obviously."

"I'll keep that in mind," Derek said, and leaned in close. "Merry Christmas, Stiles."

"Merry Christmas, Derek," Stiles whispered before Derek sealed their lips together once again.

[terribleco]

The “Worst” Road Trip

When you get some years under you as a skateboarder, you amass a whole bunch of stories about tricks, interfering weirdos, board setups and the absolute best times when riding a skateboard. As much as we try, not every session or trip turns out the way we expect. This is the story of My Big Fat Gypsy Road Trip.

Note: Please excuse the really bad video screencaps dotted throughout this article - the photos from this trip are lost to the sands of time.

Originally, after the successful "Sittin' On The Toilet" trip of 2010, I wanted to do it all again the next year. 2011's trip had been a write off though, as the potential for a road trip with a Cov crew and shredders Daryl Nobbs, Becky Jacques and Felix Parker had fallen through after some people got ill, and others had prior commitments they couldn't rearrange. The following year, in 2012, we finally managed to get some Cov heads who were keen to hit the road again for several days of camping, shredding and good times, so I got organised and readied myself for another camping trip. 

Like last time, we planned to hit up a good chunk of the south west, starting near Bristol and making our way down south to Cornwall. We booked ourselves in at the same campsite in Cheddar that we had stayed at for the first road trip, and got a tight crew of 8 people in 2 cars, with a plan to meet Joxa and Slasher Sam down in Bristol (they were living down there at the time). 

The roster driving down from Coventry was myself, my wife Emily, Ralph Cooper, Hannah Craig, Kyle "KB" Smith, Tom Illsley, Ryan "RB" Bradley and Alex "Moose" McGhie. Emily, Ralph, Hannah, KB and Joxa were returning members of the Sittin' On The Toilet gang, so I was pretty stoked for more awesome times with them, but also stoked on the people embarking on a trip with us for the first time. 

The trip would run across a long weekend, starting on a Friday, and ending on a Monday. It was April, a time of year when weather is unpredictable, but can sometimes turn out really nice. April 2012 was not one of those times. On the Friday morning of the road trip's start, it was chucking it down. The crew turned up at my house and we all looked at the BBC Weather website, and thought it looked like it might improve. Determined and overly optimistic, we got in our cars and hit the road, making a quick stop at the local Sainsbury's. 

Now, I've had some shit cars in my time. I once had a lowered Audi that would cut out whilst you were driving, and would only start again if you turned the ignition with the accelerator down (I had to do this whilst rolling, which was terrifying). I once had a Toyota Auris Sport that needed an entire clutch rebuild 3 months after I bought it. But the car I had on this road trip was a Toyota Corolla: the choice of grandads and Taxi Drivers everywhere. This car was reliable enough, but it was far too big for the engine size (it was a 1.4 litre) so was sluggish as fuck. It's one redeeming quality was it was very spacious, especially compared to the Peugeot 106 I took on "Sittin' On The Toilet", which had to have a roof box attached just to carry all of our camping gear. 

The Toyota Corolla didn't give me a whole lot of problems in the 2 and a half years I owned it, but on this particular occasion, embarking on a skate road trip with high expectations, it decided to conk out. After we had been to Sainsbury's, I got back in the car and turned the key. It turned over, and didn't start. I tried again. No start. I tried a few more times. The car turned over and refused to start. With no idea what to do I gave my Dad a ring and explained what was going on. I had flooded the engine. When I asked how we could fix it, my Dad simply said "You're just gonna have to wait". "How long???". "A couple of hours maybe?". My heart sank. 

After half an hour of sitting in the car watching skate videos and talking about how shit things had gone so far, I tried the ignition again. IT WAS ALIVE. The Toyota spluttered to life, and the engine was running. With not a second to spare, I gave Hannah the signal that we were hitting the road, and both cars rolled out of the Sainsbury's car park we had become far too acquainted with. 

As we barreled down the M5, the rain clouds began to shift, and suddenly: Blue skies! Things were looking up. The excitement was palpable and we all started to get hyped. As we rolled up to our first stop, Keynsham in Bristol, we were ready to shred. 

The session hit the ground running - after being stuck in our cars and thinking the day was a washout, everyone was so excited and shredding. Everyone landed a trick at the park: RB got the sickest Backside Heelflip over the hip, Tom shot a sick photo of me doing a Sweeper (lost to the sands of the internet), Emily monster trucked down some steps into a bank, and Ralph had his trademark fancy footwork on display. As the session was really getting into the swing of things… The heavens opened, and the rain came down. It was a washout. 

We sat in the cars and thought the rain might pass, but after 10 minutes it became obvious we were probably done here for now. Time was getting on a bit, so we decided to head on to the campsite, get set up, and chill out for the evening, with a fresh start the next day. Once we got to the campsite, we had a warm welcome, and the weather was looking fine once again. The evening camping antics were great, and everyone had a drink and a laugh. A few of the guys hotboxed a tent, so everyone was pretty mellow compared to the scrumpy based insanity of 2010's trip. We all settled in for the night in hopes of a good day's skate on Saturday. 

And then came the night. I don't think we get any hurricanes in the UK, but that night must have been the closest we've got to one. The wind was intense, and at times I thought our tent was coming down. Tom Illsley was in a pop up festival tent, and the evening before RB had made jokes that Tom would be sleeping in a tree by the time the morning came around. The more the night went on, the more I was convinced this would be the case. 

The morning came, and the sky was grey. Very grey. It was freezing, it was wet, it was not the ideal weather for skateboarding. I remember waking up a good hour before anyone else, and I went and sat in my car, put the heating on, and listened to the radio whilst I waited for some activity from the rest of the camp. As people stirred, the realisation of how shit the weather was settled in. We had planned to hit up Cheddar skatepark, but it looked less likely as the morning went on. 

We realised an indoor skatepark was probably going to be the only option. Bristol had the indoor Campus Skatepark, and was only a 30 minute drive away. We piled into our cars after some breakfast and headed to Bristol to meet Joxa and Sam. After an obligatory tea break at Joxa's , we made our way to the park. This was before the Campus Pool existed, and at the time Campus consisted of a room with a mini ramp, and a former school gym (before the current skatepark there existed) with some portable ramps and ledges dotted around. It wasn't perfect, but it was dry, and it was a skatepark. 

This session was pretty rad. Joe Habgood was there and was flying out of banks to wall ride everywhere. We all filmed some stuff, and generally just hung out and drank tea and skated. After a couple of hours, we stepped outside and realised it had dried up. We floated the idea of going to a skatepark, but Joxa had a better idea, and suggested a DIY spot called Daveside (which is still standing today, and is a super sick DIY skatepark). Back in 2012, it was just a quarter and a ledge. However, it was more than enough for us to get a session going. 

The skate was going well, and Emily had spotted a quirky little lump at the end of the quarter (built by Swampy) which she was determined to rock fakie. This thing wasn't a quarter or a bank, it was a weird lump with a little curb at the top to get your trucks onto. It was a challenge to skate, but it was super fun. Emily had a few goes at it, and was getting really close. Tom got the camera out to film Emily's trick on it, and first go, she went up and took a super gnarly slam, landing straight on her hip. It was one of the most horrible slams I've seen her take, but she just got straight back up - the next go she got it. 

After about 45 minutes of skating, the rain began again. Grateful to have got some time outside skating, we got back in the cars and said goodbye to Joxa and Sam, and headed back to the campsite. 

When we returned, it was like a bombsite. The horrendous storm-like weather had persisted through Saturday. Tom's tent was practically up in a tree. RB and Moose's tent had completely fallen down, soaking some of their bags. The big tent that Ralph, Hannah, Emily and myself were sharing was wavering, threatening to collapse. The only tent not on the verge of collapse was KB's pro fishing tent. 

The field we were camping in was boggy, and areas were becoming flooded. We made a decision to pack up, and head back to Coventry. If we could get a good night's sleep in a warm bed inside a dry house, we might be able to regroup and make new plans to head to an indoor park if this weather continued on Sunday. 

On the way out of the campsite, Hannah's Ford Fiesta got stuck in the boggy grass. She couldn't shift it, and no amount of pushing from others could free it. The Toyota had surprisingly gotten out of the field, so we tied a rope to the Fiesta and had to tow it out to rescue it. So far we had spent more time battling the elements than actually skateboarding! By the time we hit the road, the night time was drawing in. We stopped at a service station, where we skated some flat ground in wellies. Spirits were still high, somehow! 

To keep a sense of us being on a "camping" road trip, Tom, RB, KB and Moose stayed at mine and Emily's. Our house wasn't massive, so it was a bit like sardines in a tin. In the morning I woke everyone up with my Covpark Combat megaphone, which was tradition for anyone who slept at my house. 

The weather was still absolutely shit, so we thought about hitting an indoor park. Consensus landed on us going to The House in Sheffield, where we arranged to meet Alex Burrell. But when we checked social media we got a surprise. The House's Facebook page said the park was closed, but would open ASAP, due to an emergency. Ralph phoned up for more details, and found out the building next door had caught fire. We all felt like this trip was fucking cursed. 

The guys at The House encouraged us to drive up, saying by the time we arrived from Cov the fire engines would have gone. Ralph asked how busy the park would be, and we were told it wouldn't be too bad. With the session on, we headed up to Sheffield. When we arrived, we were gutted to find the place absolutely rammed with scooter kids. 

Dodging the scooter kids for this afternoon was an exercise in patience. Literally every time one of us would set up for a trick, there was a scooter kid there. For some of us it felt like we were never going to get a chance to even attempt the tricks we wanted. For a short stint we took over the micro room and got some footage there. We managed to get onto the street course a little bit, but the sheer congestion of the park, and the self entitled parents of the kids, just made it worse.

By this point I was flagging. I was genuinely so tired I couldn't think straight. When we were leaving, KB was trying a trick, and wanted to get it down before we hit the road. I was so tired, and I just didn't have the energy to wait around, so I got pissed off with it. In the car I ran my mouth and basically said some shit about Kyle that was unfair and moreso a reaction to me being so tired and bummed out about the trip than it was about Kyle wanting to land a trick. KB was understandably vexed with me, and everyone in the car was bummed out. 

At the services I tried to mend the bridges and was honest that I was just completely wiped out. I was at the end of my rope and reacted like a twat. It was honestly one of the most embarrassing moments I've had skating and I felt so shit for being an arsehole and bringing the vibe down. We all tried to enjoy some KFC and put it behind us. 

The next day, the weather was looking great. Things were finally turning around. Knowing that this was the last chance for this trip to turn out good, we plotted a course for Clifton Skatepark in Nottingham. I don't know what happened on this day, but we never got any footage from the park. It was the day with easily the best weather, and I'm pretty sure Tom filmed some stuff here, but the footage got corrupted or something.

I barely remember anything else about this day apart from Emily taking the actual worst slam she has ever taken, and landing on her already bruised hip so hard she thought she had dislocated it. The session at Clifton ended with us making a trip to A&E to get an X-ray for Emily. KB and Tom were trapped in Nottingham waiting for us to be done, and late in the evening we rolled on back to Coventry kinda glad the whole weekend was over. 

I've titled this "The Worst Road Trip", but I am fully aware many of you might have far worse experiences. So why am I detailing this? I saw a video of Craig Questions from about 5 years ago where he talks about skateboarders, and how we might have a terrible time on a skate trip like sleeping in a cold garage with 10 other people, and how we all just accept it, like it's no big deal. 

For anyone else, this kind of experience might be their idea of hell. The trip I described would be enough to put most normal people off going camping or even interacting with the people involved ever again. But for skateboarders, this kind of shit is part and parcel. It's who we are. Everyone has a road trip story like my one, where seemingly everything goes wrong. But the one thing that always, ALWAYS, makes it worth it? Riding your skateboard, with some good friends, and getting each other stoked on riding something new and different. 

Questions made a good point that a bunch of "Lads" on holiday in Ibiza would take sleeping in a garage on a cold concrete floor as a failure. They would take camping in a literal storm as a failure. They would call the trip completely over the minute someone's tent ended up in a tree. 

Skateboarders adapt. Skateboarders think about how they can still proceed, and still get to do this thing we all enjoy so much, even if the universe is repeatedly telling you to give up and sit at home doing nothing. This road trip didn't go to plan, but we stuck with the idea of 4 non stop days of skateboarding as a crew, and didn't give up on it. 

We made lemonade out of lemons. And that's what skateboarding is about, right? If you are expecting perfect weather, perfect terrain, and no hiccups, and not making the most of what you have, then that's not what skateboarders do - you get straight back out there and you figure out a way to get the session on! 

[hopingfordawn]

/1-99 of the ‘Get to know me’ meme ;3

You are such an overachiever, Em. *sighs* Well, here it is:

1) Sexuality?  Pansexual2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?    I would have to go for Wentworth Miller. Why? Well, there is alot about him that I admire, his strength to be open and speak so freely about his troubles with Depression, Suicide and Eating Disorders. The troubles with being homosexual and in the spotlight. He is a very intelligent men with a very troubled past that I identify myself very much with. I would love to be able to sit opposite him and talk to him about his experience with his struggles, about my experiences with it and what he, as a much more mature person, would give me with on my further journey. He has made it so far, overcome so many obstacles and I wish that I am able to do the same.3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.From: Derecho Penal 2, Parte Especial “un estado de completo bienestar físico, mental y social, y no meramente la ausencia de enfermedad o invalidez.” - Tema 03: Lesiones Leves y Graves

4) What do you think about most?Honestly? About 90% of the time I imagine myself being someone else and having adventures. Basically, I am living fanfictions in my head, constantly.5) What does your latest text message from someone else say?“Dad sent it.” - My sister6) Do you sleep with or without clothes on?With. Definitely with.7) What’s your strangest talent?8) Girls…. (finish the sentence); Boys…. (finish the sentence)Girls AND Boys are works of art. Why would I need 2 sentences for that?9) Ever had a poem or song written about you?No. Who would ever do that?10) When is the last time you played the air guitar?When I was about 7 and then my sister told me, repeatedly, that I was embarrassing.11) Do you have any strange phobias?It’s less strange per se, as in a weird form of it. I hate small bugs/ spiders etc. But ONLY the very small ones. I am totally fine with the large ones. Give me a really large and hairy spider and chances are I will try to pet it. But the small ones? You never know where they are! They disappear so fucking quickly! What if they crawl in your ears, what if they are hiding in your hair, what if they crawl up your butt… I don’t know it just scares the fuck out of me.And phone calls *coughs*12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?Haven’t we all? As a child almost everything went up there. Especially small ball shaped objects that I later couldn’t retrieve without help… those memories.13) What’s your religion?None. I have nothing against beliefs. But I am against what it leads to and it is so sad that it comes to that. I believe, that everyone has the right to do whatever they want to do, as long as they don’t hurt anyone. Everyone has their freedom, but their freedom ends, where they start to take away the freedom of others. All the wars, the witch trials, the homophobia, the way woman are still seen as less than men. The nonacceptance of other religions. I don’t need religion to know, that I shouldn’t hurt anyone, kill anyone, steal. I don’t need religion to be a good human being. And when someone tells me, believing in God makes them happy, then I am happy for them, because what is right for me is not necessarily right for other people, too. 14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?Buying something and making my way back home. Or being on my way to a tech-store looking at their franchise. Probably on my way to or back from college. 15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?I would love to be in front of the camera, but I am so uncomfortable with myself that I can not be in front of a camera without hating everything I see afterwards. So at the moment. Probably behind the camera while I silently wished I was in front of it.16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?I don’t have a thing like a favorite band. I like songs, not bands, normally. I have a wide variety of music genre on my playlist. But who do I really, really like? Probably Sia, I adore her and her music. The fact that her songs are about such dark themes most of the times and she works them into pop music without them sounding too happy, that’s art.I have a huge respect for her, with all of her personal problems to have still had such success gives me hope in my future.17) What was the last lie you told?“I’m fine. Everything is alright here.” - To my mom.18) Do you believe in karma?No. If it did exist, the really bad people wouldn’t be so successful. Why do so many, extremely good people suffer so much? I wish it did, really, I do.19) What does your URL mean?Well, for one it is a play on the Title from the Game “Until Dawn”, but on the other hand it means: Waiting for a light to break the darkness. Hoping for the morning to come. Because even though I am still struggling, I am also still hoping for it to pass.20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?My greatest weakness: My mind. My greatest strength: I care a lot about others. (Is that a strength?)21) Who is your celebrity crush?Rami Malek. Does it count as a crush even though I would never want to be in a relationship with him? I mean, I love him, but I don’t see myself dating him. Not as a woman. This is awkward. 22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping?No. Not after the age of maybe 8.23) How do you vent your anger?Crying. When I was at one of the hospitals they had this sound proof room I would go to, just to scream. But sadly, mostly eating until it hurts and I puke.24) Do you have a collection of anything?Sadly, no. :C25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?Fuck the phone. I hide from it when it rings. Video chatting all the way.26) Are you happy with the person you’ve become?That’s a tough question. I am not extremely unhappy with my character as a person, because technically I know I am not a bad person. But I am unhappy with so many things about me that I can not with a straight face say that I am happy with who I am today.27) What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?I love the sound of the wind, especially when it is blowing strongly through the leaves of the trees. And I hate the sound a fork makes when it scratches against a plate. 28) What’s your biggest “what if”?What if I had had all the knowledge that I have now, when was a child? I could have kept my mother from staying in a doomed relationship for the sake of her children. I wouldn’t have spent so many years, trying to die without even knowing why I felt that way, I could have worked on my problems properly so much sooner. I would have come out as trans to my parents before puberty hit me and avoided the changes in my body. But the most important thing: I would have known, that my mother, well my grandmother who raised me and who I called mother my whole life, would suffer a stroke and we would have been able to help her. Actually help her instead of her having to live the last years of her life in agony. 29) Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?Yes and Yes. To the ghost, yes even though I know that it is probably farfetched. But everything in this world is about energy, our life is energy. What we perceive as “soul” is energy. After we die, our energy doesn’t just disappear, physics has thought us that energy only ever changes forms. So if it doesn’t disappear, what happens to it? Would it be possible that some remnants stay and we perceive them as “ghosts”? To aliens: To be honest? You would be crazy not to believe in aliens. The universe is endless and always expending. We have an unlimited amount of universes and planets out there. An unlimited amount of possibilities for life in Space outside of our Planet. To believe that we are the only ones in an unending amount of possibility is mathematically impossible. So aliens? Yeah, definitely.30) Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.Right arm: Pullover draped over a chair.Left arm: Matryoshka31) Smell the air. What do you smell?Nothing. I am allergic and my nose is constantly blocked. I hate my life.32) What’s the worst place you have ever been to?AWO Psychiatric Center Intensive Care, Worst Hospital stay ever33) Choose East Coast or West Coast?I have to go with East Coast, only because the west coast is too close to the edge of the world map for me to be comfortable with.34) Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?Honestly? I listen to songs, I don’t ever look at their faces. Erm. I have no idea how the singers I listen to look like? But I think Halsey looks fantastic although she is technically the same gender as me… oh well.35) To you, what is the meaning of life?Be happy. Enjoy it. At the end of it, be able to look back and say “Yeah, that was a fucking great time”. 36) Define Art.Can’t be defined. Art is relative.37) Do you believe in luck?Ooooohhhh yes. Luck exists alright. And it loves to just forget about me.38) What’s the weather like right now?Burning hot outside. Freezing cold inside. 39) What time is it?13.30 Midday.40) Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?No, I don’t have a license. I can drive, but I am not allowed to.41) What was the last book you read?Mental Ills and Bodily Cures - Psychiatric Treatment in the first half of the Twentieth Century by Joel Braslow -> I recommend it, incredible read. Very informative!42) Do you like the smell of gasoline?Oh please no. I get headaches from it.43) Do you have any nicknames?*sighs* I was called Sissi-pissy in school. Because it rhymes so well. Assholes.Fatty. The usual.44) What was the last movie you saw?Spider-man: HomecomingIncredible Movie. I really loved it. Best Spider-man yet, in my opinion!45) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?Accident or self inflicted? Erm. Accident would be, when I was about 9, I think, I was in a car accident with my father and sister. And we used to make the backseats of the car into a flat surface, to make it into some kind of bed for the ride over to Spain (it used to take us almost 2 days then). My father would strap sheets on it etc, make cocoons so we could hide inside them and safe if something were to happen, but I had just fought with my sister over who would get to sit shotgun, and she won, and I was mad, so I didn’t get inside the sheets ride away and that’s when we were hit by a car. And I remember it felt like flying, and I hit something hard with my right forearm. Next thing I know is, I was bleeding so badly, but it didn’t hurt and my father was frantic. Of course an ambulance was called but it didn’t hurt, you know? It really wasn’t that bad. But my father kept telling me to cry, to make it looks worse than it was. To just, make fuss. So I did. And when the ambulance came, I was crying and I boarded it and the first I said to the paramedic was, I will never forget it: “This is so cool! I have never been on an ambulance!” I remember he started laughing. He wrapped me up, later on the driver had to pay me a thousand euros for my pain and my vacation was ruined because I wasn’t allowed to go into the sea. Self inflicted would be, erm, well. I downed a whole bottle of promethazine, slit both my wrists open and and almost bled out on the hospital bathroom floor. Woke up three days later in another Hospital intensive Care Ward . Bit’s and pieces of those three days are still lodged in my head and, it was awful. I was so out of it, I only know I was strapped to the bed because I remember waking up one time and seeing the cuffs on the bedside table and being scared, telling the nurse that I swear I didn’t steal them, I didn’t. Stupid shit. My liver still hasn’t really recovered.46) Have you ever caught a butterfly?As a child a caught a ton! i used to run around with a box and every time I caught one I put them inside with the others, but about an hour later when I had to go home, I would let all free again.47) Do you have any obsessions right now?Rami Malek: Do I have to say more?48) What’s your sexual orientation?See question 1.49) Ever had a rumor spread about you?Yes. A huge amount of times. Fucked me up.50) Do you believe in magic?Not sure. I wish it did exist though.51) Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?Depends on what kind of wrong they did me.52) What is your astrological sign?Gemini53) Do you save money or spend it?Both, I guess. I spend a part and save another.54) What’s the last thing you purchased?Food. *laughs*55) Love or lust?Love56) In a relationship?Nope.57) How many relationships have you had?One, if you could call it that.58) Can you touch your nose with your tongue?No.59) Where were you yesterday?At home. No witnesses.60) Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?A small packet of mini nail files.61) Are you wearing socks right now?No and I am cold. :C62) What’s your favorite animal?I love them all equally. (But I think that owls are very neat, and polar foxes, too!)63) What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?Be yourself. There is no point in having someone like you for something you are not. If they don’t like for who you are, then it’s no real loss for you.64) Where is your best friend?On the other side of the world, in Germany, while I am currently in Peru. :C65) Spit or swallow?(;Swallow ;D(I don’t know, but this is my instinctual answer)66) What is your heritage?German, English, Peruvian, Chinese, Chile, Spanish, Russian and I don’t know what else. 67) What were you doing last night at 12 AM?Reading Coldwave Fanfiction.68) What do you think is Satan’s last name?Feelgood.That was the first that came to mind. He must feel good about himself, punishing all the bad guys. Why does he have such a bad reputation? Isn’t he more of the supernatural version of a Judge? Never made the rules, he just deals the punishment.69) Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?Of course. Who hasn’t? ;)70) Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?Honestly? Yes. I think so. And that’s the weird part, for all I don’t I don’t like myself. If I was my friend, I would love me, I would coddle me. So why can’t I do that with myself?71) You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?Jump in, get the dog out. Search for a new job. Because I wouldn’t want to work for such a fucktard anyway. And I would make a public statement and he would be so fucked.72) You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?I don’t know if I would tell anyone, because they would immediately change the way they act around me and start to use up my time. I think I would start making amends and visiting all of the important people in my life on my own time and in my own way. I would Definitely go to amusement parks. Go to the movies. Just in general have a good time with my friends and family. But normal. Without the gloom hanging over their heads. And of course I would be afraid. When the time runs up I guess I would tell them, because you always need someone to talk to and I wouldn’t want to die alone. And I know that is a huge burden, but I think I would be allowed to be egoistical in this moment. I would be so fucking afraid but I guess, that is only human.73) You can only have one of these things; trust or love.You cannot love without trust. So I go with trust.74) What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?“Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me…” All Star by Smash Mouth75) What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?085476) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?When you can say that your partner is not only your lover but also your best friend.77) How can I win your heart?Be my friend. Be yourself. And if we are compatible, then we might work out. :)78) Can insanity bring on more creativity?Yes. Because Insanity gives you another kind of reality that you can then depict with art and for everyone else, it is different and therefore more creative than what they normally see.79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?When I moved away from my mother to my father. In that time it was the best decision I could have made. Even though now, that I am older, I realize that my father is not the man I thought he was. My mother was not good for me then, she has changed a lot since.80) What size shoes do you wear?German: 39Us: 7,5UK: 5,581) What would you want to be written on your tombstone?Haven’t thought about it. Finally chilling? No Idea.82) What is your favorite word?Authentic 83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.Beat84) What is a saying you say a lot?“No hay mal que por bien no venga.”There is no bad that doesn’t come to bring to bring good with it. Basically. Anything bad also has something positive in it’s heart.85) What’s the last song you listened to?Centuries by Fallout Boy86) Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors?Blue, Green, Purple and Blood red87) What is your current desktop picture?Sadly I can’t put it here but it is a picture of a fantasy forest.88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?Tough question, because the obvious answer would be Trump, but even though he is a HUGE asshole. He is not the real problem right now. You what I mean? The ones who pull the strings are not the ones who show their faces.So if Trump goes, another asshole follows. Nothing much would change. But, because I don’t know right now who really would make a difference, I’ll still go with Trump.89) What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?I don’t know. I am very honest. The bigger question is: Who would I be afraid to tell the truth to? My family. My parents.90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?Ask hopefully: Ahkmenrah?As long as all of them look as hot as Rami I am set.91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?Body morphing. I could be a guy (finally). a real guy. I would never grow older, because I chose my cells to stay the same. I may not have healing abilities in the old school way, but if I ever have a wound, I morph my body to close it, so in some way, I still have healing abilities. I want to fly, I turn into a bird, or just grow wings. I want to be another person. I change appearance. So yea, body morphing.92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?When my grandmother/ mother was around and I lay on her chest and we slept we slept, and I heard her heartbeat beneath me. I felt like he world was alright. Everything was going to be fine. I was at peace. I felt safe.93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?My first suicide attempt and the after. The looks on my parents faces. The mortification I felt. It was horrifying.94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?Why music celebrity? And why does it have to be about sex? I would rather be best friends! Erm, Singer from Imagine Dragons? Was the first to come to mind. That’s it. No deeper meaning about that.95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?But lodging is paid for, too, right? Los Angeles. Hollywood.96) Do you have any relatives in jail?Not that I know of. But my cousin was convicted of theft a few times as a teenager. 97) Have you ever thrown up in the car?Proud to be able to say: No.98) Ever been on a plane?Even prouder: No.99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?Every single one of you is wonderful. And every single one of you is entitled to their own decisions, beliefs and feelings. Stop hurting each other over disagreements. Just live in peace and accept your differences.

[nh935]

Creepy America, Episode 10: Monolith

Creepy America

Episode 10

Monolith

Outside of Baton Rouge, Louisiana

I spent a lot of time looking at empty highways at night. That’s probably not too surprising to you, but in all honesty, you might be shocked to learn just how much time I stared at dark roads. Parked next to them, looking at them from outside the RV, driving over them. Heck, some nights I dreamed about them. There is no asphalt inch in this country I haven’t seen.

And spending so much time around something like that, you start to wonder. About the way the road is paved. About the foundational stuff underneath. I mean, think about: a road is designed to be ignored. It works best when the drivers forget it’s there. But in order to do that, hours upon hours of work is spent testing materials, planning curves, laying foundation, smoothing, paving, painting, tarring, all so that you can spend fifteen minutes on it getting from point A to point B and only worry about the cars around you.

That’s an easy thought to ignore during the day, when the asphalt is packed and traffic refuses to move. But at night, traveling down an eight-lane highway with absolutely no one in sight, you can’t help but marvel at the amount of effort spent into something so invisible.

When it comes to Creepy America, I can’t say I have all the answers. I don’t. But I have some answers. And one of them is the fact that we are not alone. Something built this universe. Or at the very least, maintains it. And much like the roads we drive on, their presence is designed to be invisible. We are supposed to ignore it, and we do, until we stop and think about the architecture left behind.

Things like the monolith, for instance.

***

I was sleeping in the passenger seat when Zoey slammed on the brakes so hard my head smashed into the dashboard.

“Son of a fucking bitch,” I swore. “Dammit. Dammitdammitdammit.”

“Oh shit, Liam!” Zoey whirled to face me from the driver’s seat. “I am so, so sorry.”

“What the hell was that about?!”

“I’m sorry, I just…” She pointed up a small grass hill, fifteen feet away from the side of the road.

There, reaching just above a long row of trees, was a gigantic, perfectly smooth, perfectly black pillar of obsidian.

***

We spent close to fifteen minutes just looking at the thing, leaning against the RV parked on the shoulder of the road and ignoring the blaring horns of pissed off drivers. Zoey had the privilege of watching it with unobstructed eyes. I was forced to continuously shift an ice bag around my face just to see.

Zoey looked at me and grimaced. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I replied. It wasn’t, but the less I thought about it, the less likely I was to get pissed.

Zoey returned to staring straight ahead, observing the long monolith in the distance. “What do you think it is?”

“Dunno,” I replied. “I’d be tempted to say it’s a cell tower, or the steeple to a church or something, but…”

“It’s too dark,” Zoey finished.

It was. Black is not the color of pure void, and this was pure void. If you’ve ever looked at a turned off monitor screen, then turned it on and looked at the deep gray caused by the monitor projecting black instead of just being black, you might have some idea of what I’m talking about. The structure had no shine. No light spots. No changes in coloration, at all, despite the fact that it was noon and the sun was right above it. It bordered on being a hole instead of an actual object, and despite the fact that I could move left to right and see the shape change slightly, indicating it was an actual three-dimensional mass, the lack of any features whatsoever made it seem like I was looking at a two-dimensional image.

It was beginning to give me a headache.

I rubbed my eyes and blinked for a bit. “Whatever it is, it’s not right. Actually…” I clenched and unclenched my fist, “it’s giving me the exact same vibes I felt looking at that ‘Worlds of Wonder’ painting.”

“Hmm…” Zoey went back to pondering the pillar as a semi blew past us, blaring its air horn the whole time.

“Up yours!” she shouted after it.

I rubbernecked around, watching all the speeding cars. “Do you think we’re the only ones who see it?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, no one else is stopping. Or even slowing down. They’re acting like it’s not even there.”

Zoey shook her head. “More likely they just don’t notice. Everyone here is trying to get home. They couldn’t care less about what’s beyond the trees, and those that do see it probably just write it off as a trick of the light. I almost did too, until I took a better look at it.”

I pressed the ice bag closer to my face. Despite my ever-burning curiosity, I almost wish she had.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“Hop in,” Zoey commanded. “We’re going to find a place to park this where some idiot doesn’t side-swipe it, and then we’re investigating.”

***

Once we had found a space to pull over, we switched our normal responsibilities: Zoey held the big filming camera and I held the tiny little camcorder. The switch was one half because I couldn’t hold a camera and my ice bag at the same time and one half sympathy. Zoey really did feel bad about smashing my face in, and I had to remind myself of that with every meaty throb of my veins under the swollen area.

It wasn’t a long walk. Fifteen minutes at most. Once we had hiked up the small hill and moved past the trees, the tower was right there, sitting in a clearing like it was just a natural part of the scenery. As we got closer, the headache feeling intensified, as well as a sensation of dread.

We got right up next to it and studied it, Zoey moving around it one way and me the other. By itself, the monolith wasn’t anything too spectacular. It was about ten feet on each side and thirty, maybe forty feet tall. The sides ran straight up until the very top, where they closed together at a point, obelisk style. Not ordinary architecture, especially off the highway in the middle of the woods. Certainly head-scratching. But not necessarily paranormal by itself.

That was, until you examined the material closely.

The pure voidness of it refused to let up. Shining our phone flashlights on it made no difference; the substance just seemed to swallow up the light itself. And no matter how hard either of us squinted or zoomed in with the camera, no detail of any kind presented itself on the surface.

Feeling the structure was… weird. I really don’t know how else to describe it. You could put your hand right up to it and touch it, and it felt cold but not quite cold. Like sticking a gloved hand in ice water. You could feel the chill emanating from the substance but it didn’t really stick to you, the way your hand might stay frigid after grabbing a frozen piece of metal.

It also felt soft. Like clay. And you could squish your hand down and feel the walls give way, just a tiny bit, and feel your hand sink just slightly. But your hand wouldn’t actually move. According to your eyes, at least. And your body can tell when your senses are not communicating the same thing, even if it’s just by a little bit like that. It was incredibly disorienting and made my head hurt even more.

As I scrunched my fingers up and down, hating the way I couldn’t see them wiggle, I heard an abrupt “woAH!” from the other side of monolith.

“Zoey!” I ran around to the other side of the structure.

Zoey wasn’t there.

I panicked for a second until Zoey stuck her head out of the monolith. Like, outside of. The top half of her torso and her head was visible, but it ended in black space, like her body was just cut in half and glued into the side.

“I think I found a way in,” she said, offering her hand to me. I grabbed it and we slowly walked forward, into the darkness inside.

The space entered into appeared to be a narrow hallway. Appeared to be, because I couldn’t see. It was darker than pitch black in there. But my sense of touch still worked; I could feel the walls on either side of me brush against my arms as I moved. It also seemed to slowly slope downwards, continuing straight on for quite some time. We walked for almost a minute straight until Zoey stopped.

“What is it?” I asked.

“We’ve been walking for quite some time,” she replied.

“So?”

“The monolith was only ten feet wide.”

I blinked, the action making no difference in the dark. Zoey was right. We were walking a downgrade, but it was a very slight one. According to the normal laws of space, we should have walked right out of the other side by now, or at least bump up against the opposite wall.

I gripped Zoey’s hand slightly tighter. “Do you want to head back?”

“No,” she almost whispered back. “I think I can see something up ahead.” She continued, with me following behind, until a bright white light appeared in front of us, just as abruptly as the darkness had swallowed us. Squinting, we inched forward until our vision cleared.

We were standing on top of a large outcropping of red rock, several hundred feet off the ground. Below us, hard desert stone stretched out until the horizon, and above us was a twilight sky, dark blue with slight purple clouds.

“Where the hell are we?” Zoey wondered.

I took out my phone and opened Maps. “Arizona, apparently.”

“How?” She backtracked the way we had just came. There, in the ground, was a slight ramp set into the rock, leading downward. She started to walk down it, then stopped and held her hand backwards for me to grasp.

I grabbed on, and we moved forward, back down, into the blind hallway. We walked for almost a minute straight, until the white light once again appeared and we stumbled back out into the forest clearing outside the monolith, bright sun and humid Louisiana air surrounding us.

Zoey looked back at me with pure confusion. “Did you feel like you just walked across the country?”

“No,” I confirmed. “Maybe a quarter mile at most.”

“And we went down both times.”

“Hang on, let’s go back for a second.” I grabbed her hand and took the lead this time, continuing on until white light, then Arizona desert.

“I am so lost,” Zoey said, looking down at the rocky floor miles beneath us.

“Non-euclidean geometry,” I marveled.

“What?”

“Multi-dimensional space. It’s something I’ve been thinking about ever since the Hotel California. Areas of the world separated from us through angles we can’t normally access.”

Zoey whistled and moved her hand above her, a gesture she gave me sometimes for over my head.

“Look, like this.” I took my foot and drew a stick person in the dust on the rock. “If this guy was alive, all he could see would be the area of this flat rock. He’d believe that this flat surface was all there was, when in reality, there’s all this area out here.” I gestured wildly with my hands. “This is extra-dimensional space, and this… whatever it is, uses that space as a shortcut.”

Zoey rubbed her temples. “Hang on, so you’re telling me that there’s this… secret area, that’s all around us, and we just can’t see it?”

“And time, too. We only exist in three dimensions of space and one dimension of time, but physicists think that there’s many more dimensions of each out there that we simply can’t comprehend.”

“Plain English, please,” Zoey groaned.

I sighed. “There are secret pockets of space, and there are secret pockets of time. Things like ‘Worlds of Wonder’ and the hallway inside that monolith, they exist in the secret space pockets. Things like the Hotel California and the Alone place, they exist in secret time pockets. At least, that’s my theory.”

“Cool. I’m going to pretend that I understood any of that.”

“Okay, imagine that…”

WHIIIIIRRR

My new explanation was interrupted by a strange sound, somewhere between the rustle of paper and the hum of an engine. Turning towards the noise, I watched as a small, squat terminal unfolded itself into existence. Literally unfolded itself, like an accordion or an origami piece.

Zoey and I looked at each other, then approached it.

It was the same pure black as the monolith. The surface looked and felt identical, and it still had that strange pliable-but-not aspect to it. But this time, there were glowing green letters set into the bottom of it, into a space that jutted outwards at an angle. The letters themselves were an English alphabet and arranged in the shape of a computer keyboard, but in the order of ‘a, b, c, d…” instead of the regular “qwerty” configuration. Other than that, it seemed every other key was identical in placement, including things like ‘enter,’ ‘space,’ and all the punctuation marks.

As we stared at the letters, the area above it, the ‘screen,’ began to scroll large, green text across it:

>WONDERLAND ACCESS TERMINAL 17-IV

>PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE

I reached down and hit the enter key. The text cleared, and new words appeared to replace it.

>WELCOME _LENG_ RESIDENT

>PLEASE INPUT ADMIN PASSWORD, OR PRESS ‘ESC’ TO CONTINUE AS GUEST

I stared at the message for a minute, then hit escape.

>CONTINUING IN GUEST MODE…

The screen then wiped itself back to black, with only a ‘>’ and a blinking underscore on the screen.

I glanced at Zoey. Zoey just shrugged and gestured to the screen, as if to say all yours.

I thought for a moment, then inputted ‘/help’

>ERROR

>COMMAND ‘HELP’ NOT RECOGNIZED

I scratched my head, then typed in ‘/commands’

>COMMANDS:

>SCAN

>EDIT

>FORM

>ACCESS

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I muttered. I keyed in ‘/scan’ and waited.

>ERROR

>PARAMETER NOT SPECIFIED FOR COMMAND ‘SCAN’

>PLEASE INPUT A PARAMETER:

>KEYSTONE

>SPHERE 1

>SPHERE 2

>SPHERE 3

>SPHERE 4

>LORIAN

>ANOMALOUS II

>ANOMALOUS III

>ANOMALOUS IV *CURRENT TERMINAL LOCATION*

>ANOMALOUS VI

>*NOTICE* ALL REALM SCANS ARE RESTRICTED TO ADMIN ACCESS ONLY

“Huh.” I spent some time hunting for keys, unused to the strange configuration of the letters, until I managed to type ‘/scan anomalous iv.’

>ANOMALOUS IV STATUS

>SLAVED STATUS: Y

>SLAVED TO: S3

>STABILITY: +-21 SC

>HEALTH: GOOD

>AGE: 2000015R KM

>PROJECTED FUTURE PATH: HARVESTING IN T-34289R KM

>ACCESS TUNNELS: GUARDED AND CLOSED

“Do you understand any of this?” Zoey asked me.

“Not a word.” I hunt-and-pecked again to spell out ‘/edit.’

>ERROR

>VARIABLE NOT SPECIFIED FOR COMMAND ‘EDIT’

>PLEASE SPECIFY A VARIABLE:

>SPACE

>TIME

>ELECTROMAGNETISM

>MASS

>FORCES

>*NOTICE* ALL OTHER COSMOLOGICAL CONSTANTS RESTRICTED TO ADMIN ACCESS ONLY

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Now those I do understand. You don’t think…”

I scoffed and said “can’t be,” as I typed in ‘/edit time.’

>WARNING: ALL TIME EDITS INPUTTED INTO GUEST MODE WILL BE LOCALIZED TO USER ONLY.

>TO EDIT UNIVERSAL TIME SCALE, PLEASE INPUT ADMIN PASSWORD NOW

>TO CONTINUE IN GUEST MODE, PRESS ‘ESC’

>*NOTICE* TO ACCESS KM TIME ARCHIVES, PLEASE USE ‘ACCESS’ COMMAND

“C’mon, get to the good stuff already,” I muttered as I hit the escape key.

>INPUT NEW TIME FRAME

>PLEASE USE GREENWICH MILITARY TIME IN FOLLOWING FORMAT:

>DAY:MONTH:YEAR;;TIME:SECOND

>*CURRENT TIME: 31:1:2020;;0600:27*, the last number slowly counting upwards.

I stopped for a second, then pulled out my phone. “Last Tuesday would be the 21st. And… just midnight, I guess?” I carefully inputted in ‘21:1:2016;;000:00’, then hit enter and stepped back.

Both Zoey and I looked to the sky. Nothing changed. There was no sudden movement of sun and stars, and the heavens stayed at a peaceful twilight.

Just to make sure, I checked my phone. It still read ‘8:05 am.’

I sighed. “Well, that was a…”

Zoey gasped, interrupting me. “Liam, your face!”

I stopped and touched my forehead, then pressed down against it. It wasn’t sore anymore. More than that, it didn’t feel bruised or swollen.

I pulled my phone back out and turned on the front camera; sure enough, the damage done by slamming my face into the dashboard was gone.

I was stunned. “No way…”

“Put in two weeks ago, the 8th, at 9 pm!” Zoey demanded.

I looked up some information on Google and did some mental calculations, before typing in ‘9:1:2016;;1700:00, enter’

I stepped away and immediately vomited.

“Holy crap,” Zoey said, watching me retch. “That’s when you had that really bad food poisoning from that gas station burger, remember?”

“I remember now.” I tried to stagger back to the terminal, then bent over and threw up again. “Fuck, Zoey please turn it back.”

“Oh shit!” She ran to the terminal. “What do I put in?”

“29, colon, one, colon, 20… HUGH!, 2016, semicolon… hang on, they’re H-HUGH! Eight hours ahead… sixteen five colon zero zero.”

With painfully slow button presses, she inputted the numbers and hit enter, then turned around to face me. “Better?”

I opened my mouth to say something, then yelled in pain. “OW! Fuckfuckfuck!”

She ran over to me. “Liam!”

“The terminal!” I growled.

“Right!” She moved back to the screen, then typed another string of numbers.

The burning, agonizing pain stopped, replaced by a sensation of dull thudding.

Zoey gave me a sheepish smile. “Put in fifteen instead of sixteen. An hour ago. Which was…”

“...when you slammed my head into the fucking dashboard.” I shoved her aside, somewhat violently, and inputted ‘21:1:2016;;000:00’ once again, then typed ‘/back.’

I took a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of an undamaged, un-puking face, then stared daggers at Zoey. “Let’s not touch it anymore, okay?”

“A-alright.” We stared at the object in silence for a while.

“So that thing works regardless of what’s actually happening, huh?” Zoey finally spoke.

“Seems like.”

“Who do you think built it?”

I pondered the welcoming message for a bit. “Wonderland access terminal,” I muttered under my breath. “Wonderland. Wonderland. Worlds of…”

Something clicked in my head. “Hey Zoey, you don’t think…”

All of sudden, the rock plateau we were standing on began to violently shake back and forth.

“E-earthq-quake?” Zoey stammered.

I stumbled over to the terminal. The screen was flashing on and off, rapidly scrolling a new message:

>WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED USER _FADED_ DETECTED

>LOCKING TERMINAL IN 0...

>TERMINAL LOCKED

>SENDING ALL DETECTED USERS TO HOME REALMS:

>LENG

>HELL

>THE FADE

>THE DARK

“Something’s gone wrong with the terminal!” I shouted. The plateau snapped in half between us with a mighty “CRACK!” and began to fall apart. I tried to run forward to the other side and grab Zoey’s outstretched hand, but the sides were already moving apart. My stomach sank as I flew backwards and fell down, down, down, until a soft blue light overtook me.

***

Gradually, I could feel my consciousness return. I struggled, and, after a moment, succeeded in opening my eyes.

I was lying face up in a jungle of some kind. I could see tall blue-green ferns wave over me, and above them, silver and indigo palm trees sway in the wind. I smelled salt water, and felt silky sand underneath me. I took a few moments to lay in the soft ground, watching a large, blue planet slowly move through the night sky.

My eyes shot wide as I realized where I was. “Oh no.”

“I think I heard it over here!” a voice shouted. I scrambled to my feet and turned to face the direction it came from as a thin, gaunt man in a tattered three-piece suit crashed through the brush and came into view.

Greg Thornstein reeled back in surprise, then glared at me. “You…”

“Greg, listen to me. I escaped from ‘Worlds of Wonder.’ I can help…”

“WE HAD TO EAT ANNE BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Greg whipped out a long, sharpened branch at me and jabbed it straight for my face. I lunged back just in time to keep it from impaling me, then turned and ran deeper into the jungle.

“IT’S LIAM!” the furious voice of Greg screamed.

Loud, surprised Spanish responded.

“YES, THAT LIAM!”

I kept running, leaping over fallen palms and boulders, until my foot snagged on a log and I fell on my face. Hearing running footsteps behind me, I scrambled under the log and held my breath inside of my burning lungs, not daring to move or make a sound.

Four sets of feet landed in front of my face, then stopped.

“Where is he?” a female voice asked.

“Somewhere,” Greg said.

“Thought he’d escaped this place,” another man said.

“He tricked us,” Greg fumed. “He’s been here this whole time. And he wasn’t skinny.”

He thunked his improvised spear so hard into the ground I almost shouted in surprise, revealing my hiding place. “Find him! Alive! First we make him tell us where he hid his food, then we put him on the bonfire!”

The feet split away into different directions. I stayed under the tree, cowering, until a soft red light slowly covered my vision.

***

The sound of howling wind hit my ears before my sight returned. Once it did, I staggered back.

I was on the edge of a large cliff, close to fifty feet tall. Laid out in front of me was a burning, red landscape, with roaring infernos the size of houses dotting the planes and gigantic, broken siege weaponry scattered about: catapults the size of buildings, battering rams built like buses, and even more strange and brutal pieces with functions I could only guess at. As for how far it continued for, I couldn’t tell. The color of both the sky and the ground were the exact same shade of crimson, making it impossible to determine when one began and another ended.

As I backpedaled, my foot hit something and I fell onto my back, face upturned to the sky. But instead of the deep red I had seen earlier, this section was a beautiful purple and pink sunset, with long, feathery clouds painted along it. I got up and looked around to the scene set upon this elevated space: a large Spanish mission house, with an empty parking lot set in front of it, and a marvelous blue neon sign raised above carefully tended palm trees.

“The Hotel California?” I asked in awe.

Squealing sounded from my left, and I dove behind a nicely trimmed bush nearby, then peered out over it. The huge and wiry figure of the Captain had one of the large, bleeding, and struggling boars slung across his back with ropes, carrying it to a metal-plated tank of a vehicle with wicked spikes of iron and a bladed front end. As he did, Mr. Barrows, the graying black receptionist, was talking to another man I didn’t recognize, a thin person with curly blond hair and blue eyes wearing a black suit with a red tie.

“I apologize about the condition of this one, Mr. Faust,” Barrows almost babbled. “The guests have been rather combative as of late.”

“So these aren’t the result of attempted murder?” the other man asked. “Perhaps a misguided shot at a mercy killing?”

Barrows gulped. “O-of course not. I would never even attempt something l-like that.”

“And I should also ignore the rumors that you’ve been rather lenient with your check-out times?”

“Sir, you… you know me better than that.”

Without warning, the man took his slender cane and knocked out the legs of Barrows, falling him over to the ground face-up. He then pressed the end of the cane right into the small of his neck and gently leaned on it.

“I brought you here to collect, not entertain,” the man said. “Start telling some of these ‘guests,’ as you call them, that they’ve worn out their welcome. Or I’ll take out the deficit on you.”

THUMP. “Liam!”

I turned to my right. Zoey was pressed against a glass window pane, eyes wide with panic.

I ran up to the window. “Zoey! Zoey, are you okay?”

“Liam, we’re in the Hotel California!” she yelled, voice muffled.

“Where else have you been?”

Zoey frowned. “Where else?”

A loud BAM! sounded from behind her. She turned around and gasped, then looked back at me and yelled “come find me inside!” and dashed out of view.

Behind her, the lumbering, greasy form of the Night Man hurried after her.

I tried to follow, but I slipped and fell, my vision going gray.

***

This time, it was the sensation of clammy, cold air that hit my senses first.

I saw a forest. A large, foggy forest. It was so thick that I could only see about fifteen feet in front of me before the trees disappeared. And the trees themselves were strange, less trees and more long black sticks bereft of branches with white lines slashed across the trunks, stretching so high they disappeared and melding into black dirt tangled with long, spindly roots.

I walked forward, trying to find some kind of bearing. Around me, I could hear sounds: chittering, clicking, crying, laughing. Some sounded far off. Others appeared so close to me that I would jump away in terror, scrambling away from the source before I learned what it was. And each time I did, I lost my position in the fog.

Eventually, I found a two-lane, crumbling asphalt road, and on the other side, a large plastic shelter with a bench: a bus station. Large colored rectangles hung from the walls of the structure and as I stepped inside, I realized that they were posters, each advertising a different attraction:

“Come see the Museum of Modern Living, off of exit 178, the world’s largest collection of carefully curated and preserved suicides, exhibited for your viewing pleasure.”

“WANTED: New tenant for A Town Called Hate. Rent 5,000 a month. Attendance with live lynchings, Sunday mass required. No pets.”

“JAKE-JAKE’S CIRCUS OF HORROR, NEXT LEFT. FAN-TABULOUS SHOWS, HAIR-RAISING RIDES, LIVE EXECUTIONS!”

“Fetch Manor, now open to the public. Come for the company, stay to be dinner!”

And one that simply said: “L A UGH. you KNOW you want to.”

I sat on the bench, shivering, whimpering, trying to figure out where the hell I was or what was going on. But no answers came. So instead I just sat there, trying to keep myself warm and letting shock settle in.

A blackness began to overtake my eyes.

“Oh no.” I jumped off the bench. “Oh no no no. You can’t. I can’t go another level deeper.”

I sat there and willed the darkness back. For a second, it worked. The tunneling of my vision stayed at the edges of my eyes. But then it began to inch ahead, slowly closing over the world. I tried and tried, but the dark just kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing and soon, I couldn’t see at all.

***

It was black.

I tried opening my eyes. They were open. I reached out my hands. Nothing. They swished through empty air. My ears rang with empty silence. My skin bristled with an absolute lack of temperature difference.

The only sensation I felt was the solidness of something under my feet, so I clung to that. I stepped on it. I put my weight on one foot, and then the other. I kicked at it with the flat of my heel. There wasn’t much to be gained from it; it felt solid, and that was it. It didn’t even make a sound. But it was the only thing that existed, so I kept on doing it, taking small steps in random directions.

Something red flickered into existence about a hundred feet ahead of me. I shouted with excitement and ran to it, then stopped as the object got close enough for me to see their shape:

The unmistakable outline of two Red Eyes.

I stopped, but they kept getting bigger. It was moving towards me. I backpedaled away, needing to run but afraid to turn around and lose the only reference point I had. It picked up speed, and I screamed.

The thunderous roar of an unseen beast answered back.

My fear overtook me and I shut my eyes tight.

***

I felt a small, warm breeze on my skin, so I cautiously opened my eyes.

Sunshine, green trees, grass, blue sky: I was back on earth. More specifically, I was back to the clearing where the monolith was. I could see it, right in front of me: all thirty feet of that damnable blackness. But I turned away from it to run down the hill, back to the highway and back to our RV lying just past the treeline…

I stopped cold.

The cars were still. Stuck in place and not moving. Nobody was in sight.

I was Alone, and that only meant one thing…

OOOOHHH LIIIIAAAAMMM….

I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. There was a flap of wings beside me, a sigh, and a blow right to my temples, forcing my eyes open and causing me to fall backwards, face up and see the hoodie-cloaked figure of Sam standing over me, tiny white eyes and glowing smile visible behind the dark void of his hood.

THAT’S NOT GONNA WORK, LIAM MY BOY, it spoke in it’s strange, echo-y voice. YOU’VE BEEN BAPTIZED. YOUR IMAGE IS NOW MINE.

“How…”

AM I HERE? ARE YOU BACK? DOES THE WORLD TURN? It’s impossible large grin twisted just a bit wider. MR. WONDERLAND’S ACCESS TUNNELS AREN’T AS GUARDED AS HE THINKS THEY ARE. HE HAS YET TO REALIZE THAT A RAT CAN GO ANYWHERE IT WANTS.

“What’s going on?!” I demanded, feeling my anger rise. “What did you do?!”

It slapped me. I could feel razor-like claws trailing from his fingers slash my check with shallow, stinging cuts.

OH I DO SO LOVE IT WHEN THEY HAVE SOME FIGHT TO THEM! It leaned down next to my face, then stopped and shaked his head, grin fading into a confused expression.

Then it smiled again.

THIS ISN’T ME. BLAME THE WONDER-MAN. HIS MAGIC MACHINE TRIED TO SEND ALL THE LITTLE PIGGIES HOME. BUT MY SLUTTY LITTLE LIAM HAS BEEN KISSED BY TOO MANY SAILORS TO REMEMBER WHERE HOME IS, SO IT SENT YOU A-BACKPEDDLIN’.

It reached down and caressed my hair with its fingers. I tried to squirm away from his touch, but at this point he was on top of me, trapping me on the ground. WHEN I SAW MY POOR, HELPLESS DISCIPLE STUCK SPINNING THROUGH THE REALMS, I CAME TO RESCUE HIM, BECAUSE I PROMISED TO ALWAYS BE THERE FOR HIM. AND I CAN RESCUE HIM TOO, AS LONG AS HE ACCEPTS MY PENTECOST...

“Get away from me, you freak!”

It reeled back, grin transforming into a scowl and eyes down turning into an angry glare. FINE. LET’S SEE IF YOU’RE A LITTLE MORE AGREEABLE ON THE NEXT GO-AROUND. It pushed me, and somehow I dropped backwards, through the dirt ground beneath me, falling endlessly until a blue light fogged over my sight.

***

I landed with a THUD into a pile of ferns, groaning. I struggled to my feet, gripping a silver palm for support, before I took a look at the night sky filled with blue planet and tried to figure out where to go next.

“There you is.” A whoosh sounded next to me and I instinctively ducked under another homemade spear, moving backwards with the movement to face my attacker. It was Tom, the skinny man in camo, holding the sharpened branch at me.

I held out my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Please, just listen to me…”

“We done listen’ to you,” he said, jabbing the stick backwards. “You took our advice, you stocked up on food, you pulled some magician shit, and you been livin’ out here like a king ever since.”

“No Tom, I escaped. I know how to get out, and I can get you out too if you just let me.”

“Then why haven’t you?!” His demeanor intensified and the jabs became more forceful and violent. It was easy to side-step each swipe from the starved and feeble man, and a dim part of my head realized that I was getting better at being attacked.

“Over here!” another voice shouted from deeper in the jungle, and followed by shout in Spanish. Realizing I couldn’t outfight the whole group, no matter how weak they were, I turned and ran, breaking through the treeline and sprinting across the white-sand beach and into the ice-cold water. Once I was hip-deep, I glanced behind my shoulder to see how close behind they were.

They were all standing at the edge of the water, watching me with a mixture of fear and excitement.

Cold, hard teeth clamped around my leg and pulled me under. I forced my eyes to open in the stinging salt water and saw one of the dolphins grabbed onto my ankle. It let go and issued a strange click-tocking sound, then swam forward, mouth-open, lunging for my face.

I grabbed both ends of the creatures’ jaws, forcing them open even as the sharp metal teeth set inside sliced into my hands. It jerked in a strange, non-organic way, and the water around my ears filled with a gggrrrriiiinnnddddggggrrrriiiinnnndddding.

There was a sudden jab at my hip. Through the bubbles caused by our struggle, I saw another dolphin poking me with his nose on my left, and another one swimming towards me on my right. I panicked, until a soft red appeared at the edge of my eyes.

For once, I tried to force it along, letting the color fill my vision and surrendering to the sensation.

***

The red cleared as my head hit a soft surface. I blinked away the pain and sat up.

I was in a hotel room: two beds, a writing desk, a chair, gold and black carpet with white walls and a window revealing a beautiful sunset. I struggled to sit up and as I did, cold salt water ran off of my body and soaked the floor beneath me.

I felt my foot kicked something. Looking down, I saw my camcorder.

“How did you…” I wondered out loud. I opened it up, watching the screen indicate that the device was fine even as water droplets clung to the surface. “Of course. Does Zoey buy anything that isn’t waterproof?”

I heard the door to my room SLAM shut. I whirled to the source and saw Zoey, panting, out of breath, braced up against the room door with her back to it.

“Liam!” She started to move towards me, but a sudden BANGBANGBANG forced her to lean against the door harder.

I got up and moved over to her instead. “Zoey! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, what about you?” She looked me up and down. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Worlds of Wonder. I went back there. And here. And two more places I don’t recognize.”

Her eyes widened. “Same here. I’ve been here and… somewhere, that was really dark.”

“I went there too.”

Something that sounded like the roar of a shotgun blast rang out in the hallway beyond, followed by pained squealing and running footsteps.

“What do we do, Liam?” Zoey asked, the panicked adrenaline in her voice replaced with a hushed fear.

“I… we’ll figure out something, right?” I tried to assure her. “We always do.”

“How? With what?”

I started to say something, then stopped. “I might have a plan...”

“Good!”

“...but I don’t like it.”

Something slammed into the door hard enough to cause it to buckle, and Zoey threw her weight on it again. “I don’t think we’re in the position to choose here.”

I felt my stomach drop a bit. “Are you sure?”

“Whatever it is, do it!” The terror in her eyes was undeniable.

I sighed, closed my eyes, and yelled, “ALRIGHT SAM, I’M READY!”

And immediately, his voice was in my ear: READY FOR A PENTECOST?

I winced and slowly opened my eyes. I was back on Earth, in America, in Louisiana, in the middle of a four lane highway, abandoned cars spread across its length.

“Yeah Sam.” My voice was trembling. “Ready for a Pentecost.”

That sickly green hoodie came into view again and the black empty that was his face came right next to mine, eyes large and bright and grin twisting ever higher. He reached a hand forward…

“STOP!”

He withdrew as if he had been slapped.

“I… I have one condition. You have to bring Zoey here.”

Its smile returned. SO MY DISCIPLE HAS FOUND A PLAYTHING OF HIS OWN. DELICIOUS… Two large, shadowy wings unfolded from behind him and enveloped his body entirely. After a moment, the whole black mass dispersed away, like a cloud of smoke, leaving me alone.

I fumbled out my phone and pulled up Zoey on Messenger, writing out a text:

“When I say run, run for the monolith.”

Then I put it away and prayed to whoever was listening that the assumptions I was making about this place were accurate.

A moment later, the sound of flapping wings sounded from behind me. I turned and saw Zoey, Sam standing behind her. CONDITION MET.

I backed away slowly, eyes locked on Zoey. “Wait, just… just one more…”

NO MORE WAITING. He took one large, menacing step forward. IT IS TIME TO BE FILLED WITH THE UNHOLY SPIRIT LIAM…

Zoey’s eyes flashed downwards to her pocket. She pulled her phone out, stared at it, then looked at me and nodded.

I stopped moving. “Alright Sam, but… can I just say one thing first?”

He stopped and cocked his head sideways.

“RUN!” I bolted backwards, towards the woods and up the hill. I heard Zoey’s footsteps behind me.

And behind that, an inhuman scream of rage.

“What… are we…” Zoey wheezed.

“Inside the monolith,” I said. “Back to the terminal. And we need to slow him down.”

“How?”

I gritted my teeth. “Don’t know. It’s why I hate this plan.”

HOW DARE YOU REJECT YOUR SAVIOR! Sam’s voice shouted from above us. I heard another leathery flap before the wind began to whistle, emulating the sound of a kamikaze bomber.

Zoey grabbed a nearby branch and swung it behind her, at Sam. “Get the hell out of here!”

The branch hit the bulk of his body, bouncing away harmlessly. But he landed on the ground and stood still, putting his arms out in a posture of surrender. BE NICE, HONEY. LISTEN. Once he said that, he crouched and began to beat on his head with the meat of his palms. NO, NOT CONNIE. THE PIPER OF TUCSON WAS PAID. THIS IS ZOEY. LIAM. SHUT UP!

Zoey and I watched him until he disappeared behind the tree line we were running past.

“What the hell was that?” Zoey asked me.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” I grabbed Zoey’s hand and dived into the side of the monolith.

We were plunged back into that dark, narrow hallway. I picked up speed and forced Zoey along with me, tripping once or twice on the downgrade. A few moments later, the sight of a tiny white dot on the horizon suddenly zoomed forward and surrounded us, then disappeared to give way to the Arizona open sky and raised rock platform.

I ran over to the terminal as it WHIIIIRR-unfolded itself into existence again. “Stall him if you can!”

“O-okay.” Zoey planted her feet in front of the slope placed into the rock.

I moved back to the screen and typed in “/edit time.”

>WARNING: ALL TIME EDITS INPUTTED INTO GUEST MODE WILL BE LOCALIZED TO USER ONLY.

>TO EDIT UNIVERSAL TIME SCA…

“I know, I know,” I muttered, hitting ‘esc’ before the message could be fully displayed.

COME BACK HERE. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the white circles of Sam’s eyes peering out from the darkness of the hallway.

“Why are you doing this?!” Zoey yelled at him.

BECAUSE IT IS SO MUCH FUN IT IS MORE FUN THAN KILLING WILD GAME IN THE NONONONONONONONO! FOCUS! The large dots grimaced in anger and backed up a tiny bit.

“Questions,” Zoey mumbled. “Alright then.”

I turned back to the terminal:

>INPUT NEW TIME FRAME

>PLEASE USE GREENWICH MILITARY TIME IN FOLLOWING FORMAT:

>DAY:MONTH:YEAR;;TIME:SECOND

>*CURRENT TIME: 31:1:2020;;0601:32*

>NOTICE: TIME SCALE IS CURRENTLY PAUSED. TO UNPAUSE TIME SCALE, USE COMMAND ‘PLAY-(DESIRED TIME FRAME)’

“I knew it!” I hissed. I ran my fingers over the keys, inputting ‘/play-31:1:2020;;0601:32’, then stepping next to Zoey. “Go to the terminal, hit enter.”

She hesitated.

“I’ll be right behind you. Go!”

She ran back and smacked the keyboard. Once she had, her body faded away into the air.

LIAM, I’M VERY CROSS WITH YOU… Sam yelled from the hallway, close enough now to see his snarling teeth in the darkness.

“What’s going to happen now?” I asked him.

WELL YOU SEE, THE TRICK IS TO HAVE THE KE...STOP IT! HERE, NOW, LISTEN TO ME!

I ran back to the terminal, but now the message it displayed sent a chill down my spine.

>WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED USER _FADED_ DETECTED

>LOCKING TERMINAL IN 15… 14… 13…

“No, no, no, no!” My hands flew over the keyboard, typing faster than I ever had or probably ever will.

‘/edit time’

>WARNING: ALL T…

‘Esc’

I WILL MAKE YOU BURN FOR THIS!

‘/play-31:1:2020;;0601:32’

An icy hand gripped my shoulder. YOU WILL KNOW REPENTANCE!

‘Enter’

***

And then, everything stopped.

***

Once I had calmed down, I finally looked behind me.

Zoey was there. As was the dusk sky and the rocky platform. The slope set in the rock was still there, and I could still see the terminal in front of me.

But Sam was gone. The screen was no longer flashing. And there was no color at the edge of my vision.

“It’s over,” I sighed with relief. “It’s all finally over.”

“Liam,” Zoey spoke, “your face…”

I put a hand on my forehead. It felt bruised and swollen again.

I glanced back at the terminal, then turned around in disgust. “C’mon, let’s just get back to the RV.”

***

Zoey didn’t talk to me until later that evening. The de-stress time we spent alone after something traumatizing like that was becoming a habit. One I wasn’t happy was happening often enough to become a habit, but a habit all the same.

But around eleven that night, she slid into the passenger seat next to me as I was driving, staring into the night road.

“Liam,” she asked quietly, “what was that about?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I think that the terminal might have thought we were somebody we weren’t because of…”

“Cut the bullshit.”

I faced her. “You want to know about Sam, don’t you?”

Her angry stare answered the question for me.

“Sam came back that night, the night I came back from the Alone place.” I couldn’t meet her eyes, so I just stared into the windshield. “He told me that I hadn’t escaped. Not on my own, anyway. He told me that he had given me a dark baptism, whatever that was, and he had let me go so that he could give me a dark Pentecost later.”

“And what’s the dark Pentecost?”

“I don’t know. But he named other people he had given it to. Gacy. Berkowitz.” I gripped the wheel tighter. “Serial killers.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

She groaned. “Fuck Liam. How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?”

“I know. I just need to…”

“Stop this ‘I’ shit!” She stood up and slapped the side of my head, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to feel. “This is you and me, together. We made the decision to get stuck in this RV, together, and that means dealing with problems, together! So while I appreciate your dumbass chivalry, stop it.”

Zoey sat back down in the passenger seat. “From now on, no more secrets. We’re a team. And we’ll beat this… dark Pentecost whatever, together.” Her tone softened a bit. “You’re not  going this alone, Liam. I promise I won’t let you.”

“Alright,” I looked back to the dark road in front of me, spirits lightened. “A team.”

Zoey, how I wish you could have kept your promise. I wish it more than anything else.