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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year

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Chapter 14: Part 2: The Battle Of Starcourt

Season One | Season Two | Season Three

[Raining Hellfire Season Three]

Word Count: 2291 words

Warnings: swearing, attacks, use of knife, mentions of blood, death, powers, sad confessions, fire, guilt, mentions of possession

[A/N: It just got a whole lot more interesting. And depressing. Mostly interesting. Can't believe there's just one more chapter until the end of this season]

The Battle Of Starcourt

You ran into the Starcourt Mall just in time to see an epic display of fireworks.

The others had come back, bringing unexpected ammo with them as they blasted the streams of light towards the giant monster, it screeching out in pain. But they would have to run out eventually.

In front of the Mind Flayer, you see a struggle and immediately stagger towards it. Your eyes widen when you see Billy pinning El down, smashing her against the floor.

“NO!” You scream and you dive at Billy, hooking your arm around his body and pulling him down to the floor with you.

El coughs for air, scrambling away from Billy and the Mind Flayer while looking to you with a panicked expression.

Billy writhed in pain as Robin threw a firework bomb at the monster, their connection allowing the others to hit two birds with one stone.

But Billy was determined. He pounced at you, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you with strength no human should have.

“Y/N!” You heard Robin and Steve yell. They had no more ammo left to rid the monsters of their strength.

“Billy…” You struggled to speak, clawing at his hands around your neck as you aimlessly kick your legs. His dark eyes stared into yours, any soul they had gone forever.

You reach down into your pocket, feeling the familiar glint of metal brush against your fingers and you grasp the handle tightly. With one swift swing of the scalpel, you cut across Billy’s arm, causing him to hiss and drop you to the floor in pain and surprise.

You choke for air, crawling away.

“Let us finish this, Y/n” Billy stalked closer to you, a deep voice striking every nerve, “Once and for all”

You turn onto your back just as Billy reached down and brought up the scalpel again. But he was prepared this time. He grabbed your wrist and twisted it, hard, causing you to drop the small knife onto the floor.

He took the opportunity and straddled you, pinning you down, as he wrapped his hands around your head and smashed it against the floor. You cry out in pain as your skull made contact with the hard surface, eyes blinded by white spots in your vision.

“Y/N!” Max’s voice rang out as she and Mike ran into the mall.

You simply hold your hand out, stopping her from getting any closer. You bring your eyes to meet Billy’s as he lifts your head once again. Before he can repeat his past action, you delicately place your hand on his cheek and his movements still.

“Billy… it’s me. It’s me.” You whisper repetitively, eyes never leaving his.

His eyes seem to regain emotion, eyelids flickering slightly as he fought against himself.

“I’m the girl you saved at the beach, remember?” You try, breathing heavily, “I swam too far into the waves and you came out and saved me.”

Billy’s face flashes with memories, his gaze set on yours.

“You were with your mom. She wore a hat. With a blue ribbon.”

His eyes start to pool with tears, his breathing becoming shallower.

“You… you brought me to her.” You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks, “You didn’t even know me but you told her I was your new best friend.”

“I wanted to teach you how to surf.” He whispers and your heart breaks. Billy was still in there.

“Remember how happy we were?”

Billy squeezes his eyes shut, nodding slowly as the rush of tears finally streamed down his face.

“I’m so so sorry, Billy.”

You cried, staring at the boy you shared so many memories with. The boy that had come into your life when you both needed someone. The boy you shared your first kiss with. The boy you could never not love. The boy you had cursed.

The Mind Flayer lets out a terrifying screech, quickly recovering from the blasts.

“Kill her”

Billy’s eyes widen as he hears the same echo, glancing up at the creature above you. Something flashes across his eyes before he looks back to you, lips quivering into a hint of a sad smile.

Suddenly, the Mind Flayer roars, opening it’s mouth and revealing rows of sharp teeth. A tentacle shoots out, opening up and aiming straight for you.

It never reached you.

Billy caught the tentacle with both hands, straining against its force as he stood above you. Protecting you.

You struggle to stand, trying to prop yourself up on your elbow before falling back down. Another tentacle shoots out. Billy shifts his body and it bites into his left side.

You watch in horror and regret as your childhood friend sacrifices his life for yours. The Mind Flayer has no choice but to eliminate him now. Another tentacle, another bite. And again, and again, and again…

Billy drops to his knees, the tentacle from the monster’s mouth retreats as he screams out in pain.

Billy shifts his gaze to you and you lock eyes. You stay paralysed, shaking your head. He was going to die. And he knew it.

He smiles, reassuring you just before the Mind Flayer shoots its tentacle straight through Billy’s chest.

“BILLY!” Max screams as you sob on the floor, watching the Mind Flayer take his life.

After a moment, the tentacles release him and he drops to the floor. Max immediately runs over, eyes set with panic as she stares down at her brother.

You slowly stand, head throbbing as you make your way over to them both. As you do, you feel something shift behind you and your arms trail with goosebumps.

“LOOK OUT!” Mike yells and you spin around just as the Mind Flayer shoots out more tentacles.

You didn’t know how it happened. In fact, it all happened so fast that you didn’t think anything through.

Your hands raised in front of you, reaching out as you felt a powerful rage build up inside of you. The corners of your vision darkened as you focused your anger on the rows of teeth in front of you. You screamed.

The tentacles suddenly froze in the air, barely inches away from your face as you stood in front of the kids. They squirmed and struggled with such force that they should have moved. It shouldn’t have been possible, not since El had lost her powers. But it wasn’t El doing this.

It was you.

You felt a darkness creeping through your spine and into your arms, faint black lines covering the skin. With a yell, you push your arms out and the tentacles stabbed straight into the Mind Flayer so quickly you almost missed it.

You stand your ground. The Mind Flayer struggled against itself, slowly pulling away each tentacle before roaring at you.

But its action caused it to start bleeding out from every wound you had caused. And that wasn’t the end.

A chill crept up your spine before your mind suddenly flooded with a high pitched scream. You wince, collapsing to the floor as the Mind Flayer screeches out in pain. It becomes unsteady on its legs; rocking back and forth as it struggles to stand. Stumbling, it crashes into a column.

You feel its life draining before it finally collapses to the floor and lays there, motionless. You breathe out as the static in your mind calms, air leaving your lips shakily.

They had done it. They had closed the gate.

Everyone stares at the dead creature from where they stand, relief coursing through them. And then they look to you... and you couldn't even begin to imagine what they were thinking.

“Billy?”

Max’s voice snapped you out of your trance and you turn your head to see her kneeling down beside him. Behind her, Mike held El as she cried.

“Billy.” Max continues, shaking her head as he struggles to breathe. “Billy. Get up, please. Billy, get up, please, please.”

You pull your body across the floor towards them, reaching him just in time for Billy whisper into the air.

“I’m sorry.”

You reach out to grab his hand and his eyes find yours, a tear rolling down.

He takes his final breath.

“Billy!” Max sobs, shaking his shoulders, “Billy, wake up. Please.”

You watch as your sister breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably. El takes her into her arms, rocking her back and forth.

“It’s okay.” She whispers and tears your heart apart, “It’s okay.”

The next hour felt like torture.

Military helicopters had shown up in the parking lot, a man in a lab coat leading them into the mall.

“I’m Dr. Owens.” He had said to you as the soldiers cleared out the mall. The way he looked at you was curious, like he had seen you before.

Outside, fire trucks and ambulances lined the Starcourt Mall. There wasn’t originally a fire in the building but now it was covered in flames. Just another cover up in Hawkins.

They even covered your father’s death with the flames.

You sat in the back of an ambulance, watching as your friends reunite with their families, crying and holding eachother. It was a numb feeling for you to be seeing that.

Susan and Neil had even appeared, pulling Max into a hug as Susan stared at the flames with a horrified expression. Neil didn’t even seem like he cared his own son had died.

El never reunited with Hopper. She had lost him just like you lost Jack. But she had Joyce, a woman who always saw the girl as her daughter ever since the night they met. She had a family, even with him gone.

And the last time you saw either Jack or Hopper was in the mall that was burning to the ground.

“Hey.”

Steve sits down next to you, wrapped in a blanket similar to your own. You smile at him before frowning, looking out into the crowds of people.

“Where are your parents?”

He let out a cold laugh, shaking his head. “Out of town. Probably won’t find out about any of this until they’re back. Not like they ever answer their damn phones.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, offering a smile.

Steve looks at you as your eyes are drawn back to the parking lot. Lucas’ mother was smothering him and Erica in kisses whilst their father held on to them.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks and you tear your eyes away from the Sinclairs. His eyes widen. “Shit, sorry. That’s a stupid question. I’m sorry.”

“I just-” You start, taking a breath. “I just wish I could go back in time. Do things differently. Maybe… maybe they’d still be alive.”

“None of us could have seen that coming.” Steve tries and you laugh bitterly.

“I should have. I mean, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that they died after I was told that everyone I loved would be taken away from me, you know? And what did I do? I dragged them into it anyway.”

“How can you blame yourself?” Steve furrows his brows, “You couldn’t have done anything.”

“But I did.” You say quietly, thinking back, “I stopped it. I- I don’t know how but I stopped it from attacking. I had that the whole time and I didn’t use it until it was too late.”

“I should have let it take me.” You add with the quietest whisper. Steve raised his eyebrow, clearly not hearing your last statement.

“How could you have known?” He offered. “You looked just as shocked as the rest of us.”

“I know.” You slowly nod, trying to convince yourself. “You’re right. I just… a lot happened.”

He reaches between the blankets and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “We’ll get through it. All of us.”

You look down at your hands with a gentle smile. You frown, remembering. “About-”

“It’s okay.” He whispers, planting a kiss on your temple. “I know what you’re gonna say.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at his touch, wanting nothing more than to give in.

“I don’t think either of us are ready.” You look up at him. “I was told once that… that time doesn’t heal by itself. I know you and Nancy didn’t work out but you loved her. And… and I know first hand that those feelings just don’t disappear in a couple of months.”

He nods along, glancing over at the Wheeler family reuniting.

“I know.” He smiles down at you, a laugh escaping him. “Why are we like this?”

“Hopeless?” You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “I have no idea.”

Another kiss to your forehead and you close your eyes.

Just for now, in this moment, you wanted to pretend. Pretend like nothing ever happened.

The Russians didn’t try to open another gate. It didn’t lead to an investigation that got you and your friends kidnapped and tortured, not knowing if you’d make it out alive.

Billy was never possessed. It didn’t lead to him sacrificing himself for you. You were going to attend work tomorrow and roll your eyes at Billy’s dramatic entrance from the pool house. And Heather would be there too, fussing over colour-coded whistles.

Hopper didn’t go down into the Russian base. It didn’t lead him to getting caught in the blast as they shut the gate. He would come home, grumbling about Mike and El, making you laugh with his poor attempts at dad jokes.

Jack never came looking for you. He was going to be there waiting for you, in the house you shared as a family.

The black dust never possessed you on the eve of your 14th birthday.

You weren’t cursed.

You just wished you weren’t destined to live out your greatest fear...

Being alone.

Chapter 15: This Is Just The Beginning ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo / @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley

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newbookcats · 2 months

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I'm a Gay Wizard by V.S. Santoni | A Slow-Paced Gay Romance Book Attempts To Be A High-Stakes Magical Fantasy

You can read the full review here: https://newbookcatsreads.blogspot.com/2024/02/im-gay-wizard-by-vs-santoni-slow-paced.html

You try magic once and it sticks to you like glitter glue . . .When Johnny and his best friend, Alison, pass their summer holidays dabbling in magic, they never expect it to have consequences. Sure, it’d be great if they could banish bullies or change their lives for the better, and what harm could come from lighting a few candles and chanting a few spells? When they cause an earthquake that shakes Chicago to its core, they draw the attention of the Marduk Institute, an age-old organization dedicated to fostering the talents of young wizards.

Once there, Johnny and Alison are told they can never return to their previous lives, and must quickly adapt to a new world shimmering with monsters, fraternities, and cute boys like Hunter and Blake. But when they’re pulled into an epic, supernatural fight that could cost them both their lives, Johnny and Alison find strength they never knew they had as they battle for love, acceptance, and their own happy ending—all with the help of a little magic.

Discussion:

DNF - 20%

You can find hidden gems on Wattpad and fanfiction sites. For example, I loved A. V. Geiger's Follow Me Back when I read the duology several years ago, and my teenage years were spent crawling through The Hunger Games and Harry Potter fanfiction. Hence, I was excited to jump cannonball into a high-stakes magical fantasy book; however, I was quickly disappointed by Santoni's I'm a Gay Wizard. Trigger warnings: homophobia, bullying, kidnapping, assault

I don't know if a story can be 'too Wattpad' but this is. The magical aspects are not executed well nor are they explained at all. The pacing is inconsistent, in that some scenes are rushed through as quick, action-packed thrillers while others are snail-slow and leave a gooey residue everywhere. The romances feel cliche. However, I will give the book the benefit of the doubt since I did not read past 20%, so the instantaneous love possibly gets better. Also, the main character Johnny is unbelievably awkward and just so different from everyone else. Despite the age range for Johnny and his classmates to be 16-18-year-olds, the characters, except for possibly Johnny's best friend Allison, act like 12-year-olds, based on their limited communication skills and the number of times "freak" is used as an insult.

Moreover, there is also just a lot to unpack with the string of homophobic slurs and assaults targeted on the main characters, and I am not comfortable that no actions were taken to charge the assailants, particularly by the assaulted main characters or any of the bystanders at the busy mall where the assault takes place. This situation is not too realistic, especially as most events are recorded by observing phone cameras nowadays.

Last but certainly not least, the school that kidnaps Johnny and Allison also forbids good, tasty food. At least provide good food if you're kidnapping underage wizards! That should be common sense. From other reviews on Goodreads, this is a good story for some and not for others. I just am in the latter group, unfortunately.

Love,

newbookcats

What Wattpad stories were your favorite? Have you read Santoni's stories? If so, would you recommend them? What fantasies featuring own-voices LGBTQ+ romances would you recommend to a newb like me? Being a fanfiction lover from several years ago, what were your favorite fanfiction stories/subjects? Chat with me in the comment section below or via any of my social medias!

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percabethfiles · 3 years

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Charlie

Uh... Hello? Anybody still here? I haven't been around in years and years. But I keep my fandoms stored in some corner of my brain waiting for something to tug them out. And of all things this time it was Taylor Swift re-releasing her old songs, because I used to imagine so many percabeth scenes listening to "Fearless". So have this little something that's been sitting unfinished in my archives for years now.

Remember that time Percy saw Sadie Kane and thought “Hey, this is what mine and Annabeth’s daughter would look like”? Yes.

(Also there are small nods to that fic I wrote about Logan, Hidden Heritage, but I've been meaning to re-write it someday because there were SO MANY PLOT HOLES omg)

When they find out it’s a girl it’s a bit too soon to know for sure, or so the doctor tells them. They’ll have to wait for the next appointment to know for certain. “So don’t go buying any tiny dresses yet,” he jokes and they laugh along, but they’ve been together for approximately eighteen years now, they can tell what the other’s thinking with a glance and the ecstatic grin that breaks through their lips lets him know they’re on the same page. Too late. They’re already thinking plush bow and arrows and a Merida costume for her first Halloween.

Percy tries to keep his cool. As the weeks progress, he tries not to get his hopes up, but in his heart he knows already. They hadn’t really had a preference before, they’d been too happy knowing their baby was fully human and had all its limbs (with the number of deities they’d pissed off, you never knew), but a little girl? It feels right after their two boys, it feels like their family will be complete.

(He thinks about a slight blonde girl with streaked hair and a British accent dropping from the sky on a magic camel, remembers thinking “if Annabeth and I had a daughter…” and his chest squeezes tight with happiness so raw he has a little trouble breathing)

When the doctor beams at them next appointment and says “Congratulations, Jackson family, it really is a girl,” he’s not surprised, but no less elated. He doesn’t hear the lame joke about Jackson Five, he’s too busy trying to be a manly man and not burst into tears because he’s going to have a daughter. When Annabeth’s in the other room paying for the appointment, and he’s waiting for the doctor to print the really impressive high tech 3D picture of the ultrasound, the man asks him “So did you go ahead and buy a tiny dress anyway?”

Percy blushes.

The man shakes his head in amusement. “Every time”.

His work colleagues, proud dads of little girls themselves, try to terrorize him with tales of tea parties and future boyfriends, and Percy thinks somewhere in the middle of all that teasing they mean well, but really, he’s mostly annoyed. It’s not like he’s new to parenthood, he’s got two sons already and they seem to be turning out okay, and before, when Logan and Nathan were just a nice dream for the future, there was Estelle, the little sister Percy had never expected, but loved to bits all the same.

And then Charlie is born.

She’s tiny, warm and pink, all curled up in her yellow cable-knit blanket, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out of a tiny, tiny beanie, features scrunched into the most adorable variation of a grumpy face. He’s not new to parenthood, he’s been here twice before, but the rush of affection and protectiveness and awe and raw love is just as genuine. He’s smiling like a dork, can’t seem to stop, walking from side to side, avidly searching her traits. She’s bigger than Nate was when he’d been born, but smaller than Logan. Her hair was light, like Nate’s, would it stay blonde or darken with time? Would her eyes be like his or Annabeth’s? And oh, she had her mother’s nose (they all did).

It never fails to amaze him how such a small, vulnerable being can shake up his whole world until it’s made a space for her. And he’s done this before, he’s no first time sailor this time, he’d thought he had it all under control. But she blinks and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes and a frowny face and—they’re green. Her eyes are the blue-green Logan’s are, Percy’s are.

(He’s got two sons who are his life, and he does love all his children equally, but holding his daughter for the first time, he thinks he understands his friends’ warnings. He doesn’t love her more, it’s just… different. It’s special.)

When he goes back to work, Nick takes one look at him and bursts into laughter. He claps him on the shoulder in commiseration.

“I told you.”

He’s completely wrapped around her finger already.

It’s not too different, he finds out. Especially having been pre-trained by Estelle. He’s got to brush up on his Disney princess knowledge, and hair braiding skills. He hasn’t gotten much better at color coordinating the polka dotted bows and tiny shoes, but Charlie is really forgiving. She is a very happy baby, much happier and easy going than any of the boys had been.

She’s also fucking crazy.

She is smaller and skinnier than her brothers, likes to wear frilly dresses and talk to plush animals and dance around the house in a pink tutu, but she’s wild. She never learned to crawl, just held on to the couch until she was wobbling on two feet, and it seemed like the very next day she was running across the house, the mall, the park, and if he turned his eyes away for one second, she was shooting off in the streets and nearly getting run over.

He’d found her dangling from the kitchen cabinets, trying to reach the cowering cat. She had a phase when she thought she could fly and she would climb furniture and stairs and the window sill and just… Launch herself into the air expecting her flying powers to manifest spontaneously. If they hadn’t been trying to raise them away from the whole mythological world, he would have sat her down and clarified that she had the wrong Olympian Grandparent in mind. She might have had more luck jumping into the ocean.

She had a way to jut out her lower lip, and turn those big green eyes on him that could render his every effort to be a responsible parental presence useless.

Besides, she was so funny. He could never muster enough anger to discipline her, because if he found her on the kitchen table covered in peanut butter, somehow sporting a very sticky Mohawk, and looking entirely unapologetic, well, he just couldn’t stop laughing.

One day he’s coming home from work and he hasn’t even pulled the key from the lock when Charlie calls out ‘you’re back daddy,’ in what sounds vaguely like a new jersey accent. He finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, drowning in one of Annabeth’s bathrobes, pink plastic barbie sunglasses on, holding a pooh bear sippy cup with one hand and a pinky stretched out.

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

“It’s wine Wednesday, daddy.”

“It’s what?”

“Wine Wednesday.”

He had half a mind to check if her sippy cup actually contained wine because they hid their alcohol way up in the cabinets she can’t reach but that girl could climb like a monkey. He knows he should follow that remark up with some kind of questioning of where she’d even heard of ‘wine Wednesdays’ and then explain that kids don’t drink wine or some other kind of responsible parent speech, but a sudden burst of incredulous laughter bubbles up in his throat and he takes refuge in the kitchen, lest he encourages her behavior.

He finds Annabeth there, hand over her mouth, clearly in stitches over their daughter’s performance. He wants to question if she gave her permission to wear her bathrobe but finding his wife nearly doubled over in silent laughter in the kitchen is too much and he finally lets out the guffaw he’d been trying to hold on to.

It’s not the first time Charlie leaves them breathless with laughter, and he’s almost scared of what she’s going to cook up in the future.

Charlie is a hellion.

There isn’t one person safe from her pranks, but she’s so adorable she hardly ever catches hell for it, and she’s learning to use it in her favor – thankfully, just in time for her parents to develop immunity to her puppy eyes. And she’s… difficult, yes, but not always, and not in a terrible way. For all her climbing the roof, organizing illegal cookie sales, getting in fights with her classmates, she’s not a bad kid. She’s got Percy’s penchant for befriending the kids no one wants to go near, and defending her ragtag team of losers. She’s loyal to a fault, and it gets her in trouble often.

She and Nate have epic jealousy fights over everything, including – but not limited to – Logan’s attention, the crayons, the biggest piece of cake and all the videogame characters in the world are not enough, they will always want whatever the other picked. It gives them many, many headaches. Logan, on the other hand, positively spoils her, and whenever Charlie gets in trouble they can be sure to find her hiding behind her big brother while he gives them this solemn look and says “It’s ok, mom and dad, Charlie promises she won’t do it again. We’ve talked.”

When the whole “Logan being attacked by a dracanae in school and thus finding out his Olympian heritage” debacle came to pass, and they started frequenting camp again, there was nowhere in the entire Camp Charlie would rather be than the stables. She’d spend hours there with the Aphrodite kids, brushing the pegasi and talking to them endlessly about all her classmates and her friends, and her dolls, and her new dress, and the new book grandma gave her. It was all really cute until Percy realized the pegasi were talking back, and she fully understood their replies.

And it’s funny, really, because Logan had taken after Percy, to a point where bathing him had been hard as a child because he tended to stay dry in the tub, and Nathan was Annabeth to a T, but Charlie was a perfect mix of them both.

He guesses it makes sense it would be so explosive.

When Charlie is twelve, she gets kicked out of school.

Percy is not overly worried about it himself – the number of schools he’d been kicked out of reached double digits, and this was only her first – but he is worried about how she will feel. Getting the boot from a place that’s housed you for years, where your friends are, where everyone already knows you and having to start over is never pleasant, no matter how used to it you were.

He’d expected the school to have gotten tired of all her pranks and misbehaving, which was fair, he guessed. But when Annabeth comes home from the meeting with the school director, she is seething, and not at their daughter. Charlie is angry too. In fact, it’s the first time he’s ever seen his daughter well and truly pissed off. The two of them are a sight for nightmares, both blondes standing side by side ranting with righteous fury, they look ready to start a revolution. What he gets from her angry snarls and Charlie’s rushed rambling is that Charlie had talked back to a teacher that was picking on the autistic kid and demeaning the thirteen year old who was repeating sixth grade.

She’d called him a brain-washing small minded overgrown bully who, he was quoting, didn’t get enough love from his parents.

And Percy is so proud his eyes even get a little misty.

Because he’s getting old and sentimental and raising kids is very hard. No one knows what they’re doing, not one person, not even the fancy psychologists with those books on raising perfect, well rounded, high-achieving members of society that Annabeth insisted on reading when she was pregnant with Logan. You do your best and you hope for the best, and you don’t know what you get until it’s basically too late to do anything about it. And even if he did have the best mom in the history of the entire world to draw example from, he was also half of an absent Olympian father whose heritage condemned him to dance in and out of battlefields half his life.

He’s always been terrified of being a crap father.

He looks at Charlie cussing out with every mild version of actual cuss words, stalking around the kitchen like a little lioness in a cage, furious at the unfairness of the whole situation, caring less about being expelled and more about who was going to defend her friends from that awful teacher when she’s gone.

His daughter is only twelve, but she’s already so brave, such a force of nature. She won’t stand for injustice, and she won’t take insult lying down. And she’s so kind. She’s growing up, and the person she is slowly turning out to be… is good.

And something in his heart shifts and settles down, smooths over old fears and anxious thoughts.

Percy doesn’t mean to brag, but he thinks he’s not doing half bad as a parent.

#fanfic #pjo #percabeth #percabeth kids #charlie jackson #back at it again with the old unfinished fics #percabeth fanfic

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13tinysocks · 3 years

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HHHH The Hunt Is On original concepts that were scrapped and I feel like rambling. For context THIO is Jane/clockwork/Jack x reader currently on Quotev. At first it was just Jack tho. Anyway *shakes my ass* Mild thio spoilerz

-As I said, THIO at first was supposed to be only a Jack X reader. I understand it would have been a lot more popular if it was but tbh I don’t really care. We thought to ourselves, “Ight Jack’s epic but what if lesbians?” And slapped them in.

-Also put them in for a better story. Jane vs Jeff is super popular and we wanted to do our own take on it. Jack vs Jeff is interesting but Jack has no emotional attachment to Jeff in this universe. Wouldn’t have been much drive without Jane and the lesbianism xoxo.

-THIOs name was supposed to be linked to YN searching for Jack. We kept the name bc these bitches lookin’ for Jeff and how to stop him. The name kinda bothers me now but it’s sticks well enough.

-In early concepts YN was the host of a popular cyptid hunting/buzzfeed unsovled style webshow. She was still going to be autistic w/ a special interest in the supernatural.

-She was going to be more driven though. She would do fucking anything to prove that ghosts and/or monsters are real.

-Prob 21/22

-Jack was going to live in some abandoned mall or hospital. Same goth aesthetic but less neat and quieter. A lil more unhinged but still wicked smart.

-Soulmate AU!!!!!

-The writing on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s! YN would get hastily written science notes until she was 19 then it all stopped. Occasionally a random mark that was accidental.

-They were too driven to really communicate much. They both figured, “Eh I’ll get to it when I’m 30.”

-YN writes her entire routine for the day on her forearm. It’s a habit that she can’t shake.

-Jack’s blind and can’t see it. But if Rake were to catch it he’d point it out prob. If Jack so desired, he could take a (shitty) pic of the text and have it read out to him

-He figures it out way before YN

-Uses it to avoid her when she comes lookin’. She doesn’t get how he keeps giving her the slip.

-When he reveals it to her she’s like MOTHERFUCKER!!!! ! !! !! !! But also, ayo? Hot gray dude with a god complex? Wanna make out?

-When it was just a Jack/reader the plot was gonna go a lil like this:

-YNs crew were going to be her buds. One of them was going to be killed by Jack for munchies pre-story. Later on, YN would use a spirit box and make contact with him (Noah) More on this in a bit

-Noah was going to be punk, loud, annoying, and a skater.

-The group is still in shock and mourning even thought it’s been two months. A few people from their block have gone missing here and there. Something isn’t right.

-YN and co. were going to film an episode where Jack and rake live. Seedeater was contemplated on being there too but we didn’t really connect with him.

-They catch something black and blurry on camera but only see it when they’re editing.

-Go back over and over. Nothing.

-YNs like fuck it! Im going alone bc y’all loud.

-Night vision handheld camera like outlast

-Gets a good pic of Jack. It’s unclear, he has his mask on, he’s on all fours.

-Thing is, he like, is faking being a feral animal bc he wants YN to fuck off.

-Just imagine being smart but crawling around and growling so this girl will go away.

-Doesn’t attack her bc he’s very aware that if too many folks go missing around the area then more people will look. He doesn’t fell like relocating again.

-YN gets in contact w/ Noah via the spirit box.

-Ghosts r real baby!

-He spills on what happened to him. Tells YN that it’s too dangerous.

-His ghost is super duper fucked since Jack got to him when he was STARVING

-YN sort of heed his warning. She’s like ayo!!! Monsters are real that’s so swag but also I’m gonna expose that thing for what it did to you >:

-Noahs like on god literally dont you will die

-No <3

-There’s a big reveal when Jack finally stands up normally and YN is about to piss herself bc the entire time she thought he was a smart dog xoxo

-YN peaces the fuck out

-Goes back a lil later. Scared but determined. No one believes her abt the spirit box and Noah won’t show himself to anyone else.

-YNs upset about Noah but a curious person. Wants to examine Jack from every angle before she exposes his ass.

-Trail and error. Lots of him chasing her off or almost actually fucking killing her.

-Eventually, there’s like a weird unorthodox interview.

-YN asks him questions from across a tiny table. He’s so fucking tall, he could reach over and snap your neck in an instant.

-Learn about one another.

-Bonding. Some frenemy type of shit.

-Jack is YNs 7ft tall lil secret

-Closer. Forgiveness.

-Someone else is like ayo? There’s body parts at (Jack’s place of residence)

-Ruh-roh law enforcement.

-YN and co. saves Jack

-Friends feel betrayed but they like ight ig, monster fucker lookin ass

-Gets muddied here bc this is where we did an overhaul to the plot where it was more of a character driven, tragic, depressing, hope punk, sort of thing with lesbians and mullet Liu.

-Note that I’m not going to write this. I’ve found I only enjoy writing polyamory fics instead of solo stuff x.

-THIO is currently ongoing and it is a lot different and very, very plot heavy. The link for the fic is in the thio/ the hunt is on tag.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #thio #the hunt is on #eyeless jack #jack hyun #x reader #rea talks #concepts #quotev #fanfic

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

How I got revenge on my cheating ex!

TL;DR at bottom.

This story takes place almost 12 years ago so I'll do my best with the dialog and details but admittedly some things are a little fuzzy. Most of my life I've had a problem with picking men that were not good for me, so much so that I even had a phrase for it "saving the world, one moron at a time". One of my more spectacularly bad choices was a guy by the name of "Bob" (obviously not his real name). I met Bob when I was working one of my 2 jobs at the local mall, he worked somewhere else in the mall so we hit it off and soon enough we were in a relationship. Within a few months my lease was up and we ended up moving in together which obviously in hindsight was a huge mistake but I was dumb and lonely.

Soon enough red flags began to fly, he would say things in common conversation that were simply incorrect (like there's only 4 continents and the rest are actually owned by the martian government and thus don't count etc. ) and when challenged would circular talk until you either agreed with him or dropped the subject. He would also make claims that seemed entirely unbelievable such as when I asked where he had been staying prior to his mom's house he said he "camped in the woods" when I asked how he did that for months on end and without any gear he simply gestured to himself and said "this is all the gear I need". The worst trait though by far was his epic LAZINESS! I have never witnessed someone so lazy in my life.

Bob was unemployed for over a third of our relationship and would simply sit in the apartment watching netflix or playing some war game on "his" computer AKA my spare computer typing away in the group chat. He would never clean up after himself leaving dirty dishes in the sink and filth on every surface while only taking a shower MAYBE once a week. The smell that permeated my apartment could only be described as revolting and could easily gag a maggot. I would inquire a few times a week on his "job hunt" only to be dismissed or given a growing amount of excuses such as "but I don't have a car, how would I get there"... "the bus doesn't run in that area"... "the internet went down so I couldn't apply"... etc. etc. Meanwhile I am working double and triple shifts at my job to try to make up the lost income and running him all over town in my off time getting applications and helping him fill them out and turn them in. Keep in mind he doesn't have a cell phone so all of these apps have my contact info on them. Thus begins the era of him "holding my phone" while I'm at work so he can make calls or schedule interviews as well as I can get a hold of him from my store phone if I needed to.

Things began getting weird, he began staying up later and later on this group chat, sometimes till almost dawn. Sometimes we would hang out all evening until it was time for bed. Then he would always make some excuse on why he needed to check the game before bed and he'd be right there.... hours would pass... no Bob. I began to get suspicious but nothing incriminating seemed to be taking place so I just shrugged it off as me being insecure. Then he started asking to use my car to go see his best friend "Ben", now I wasn't super comfortable with this but I did know Ben pretty well and we got along almost better than Bob and I did so I guess to a degree I trusted Ben more than Bob and agreed to it. This happened a few times while I was working the evening shift and he was always back at the allotted time with my car and my phone and relatively grateful for the opportunity to hang with his buds. Suspicious... umm yes, but I'm the kind of person that is loyal and trusting to a fault and don't assume anything without proof and from every angle all seemed to be on the up and u so I took it at face value.

So one day he asks to borrow my car and go with his friends to a card gaming tournament, he put on a great show telling me how the prize money would help us out and with the deck he had there was no way he could loose. I just had to let him use my car and phone this one last time and he would be able to buy himself a phone with the prize money. I wasn't a huge fan of the idea but nothing untoward had occurred in the previous instances and I didn't feel like spending my only day off at a card game convention that I literally couldn't care less about so I acquiesced. I bought myself a couple green monsters and some vodka and had my own little personal drunk party. Hours tick by and no Bob... Eventually I pass out only to wake up at the crack of dawn VIOLENTLY sick, this went way beyond a hangover. I start retching in the bathroom until there was nothing left but bile but the retching wouldn't stop. Hours ticked by and I lay in my bathroom floor sweating and convulsing with no phone, no car and no Bob. I eventually was able to crawl to my room and wrap myself in a bath robe before crawling down my apartment building stairs and began knocking on the closest doors. It took 3 apartments before someone opened the door and allowed me to use their phone to call my mom. My mother was at my apt in 6 minutes flat and rushed me to the ER where I was diagnosed with an aggressive and antibiotic-resistant strain of C-Dif. Bob finally showed up later that afternoon phone and car keys in hand looking very concerned and claiming to be deeply apologetic but my mom hated him from that point on. I was out of the hospital and back to work within a few days but it was the beginning of the end.

During these last months we were constantly scraping by due to his lack of consistent income and poor spending habits. There were jobs gotten and there were jobs lost for various reasons throughout our relationship but the final job was one I helped him get literally 3 buildings down from my own workplace. This company rents furniture and electronics on a weekly/monthly basis and I happen to know most of the employees and the hiring manager as they are regular customers at my coffee establishment . I was able to use what little sway I had to get him on there and he accepted a job as a delivery man.

Within a few weeks I come home from work to find a brand new TV and entertainment system and him grinning like an idiot. I tell him we can't afford this, we can barely afford to eat and are surviving off scraps I bring home from work. He talks about his amazing employee discount and assures me it's no big deal that the rental fee will just come out of his check etc. I was pissed! Not only had he not consulted me, he also had me on the account as well (my info had been taken from the credit app I filled out as a favor to help their numbers) so if HE flaked I was liable. Fast forward another few weeks the rent is late and we are receiving eviction notices on our door, I come home from work and the tv is mysteriously gone. "Thank goodness" I think, "he finally realized we can't afford it and took it back"... he gets paid, rent gets paid and all is as good as it can be. Until I found a pawn slip for the TV in his pocket as I was doing laundry and went ballistic! He assured me he had plans to get it back in the works and to not worry about it, it will be taken care of soon and no one will be the wiser? I was too pissed to catch on to the secrecy aspect of the situation.

A few more tense weeks go by with him working mornings and myself working evenings while we shared one phone and car... Until that fateful day arrived! I woke up that morning with a migraine headache and opted to let Bob take the car but leave me the phone so I can call someone later on for a ride to work. A few hours of uncomfortable sleep go by before I am awoken by my phone.... I answer the phone still groggy "Hello?"

There is a long pause on the other end of the line until a female voice asks "Umm is Bob there?"

I felt a sickening feeling in my gut and began to shake.... is this real? Am I dreaming?

"No, he's at work right now this is his wife (total lie but hey) is there something I can help you with?" I wasn't rude, I phrased it as a genuine question rather than an accusation.

Another long pause before she began to stammer about maybe she had the wrong number but it was obvious she just wanted to get off the phone with me as quickly as possible and I realized in that moment that I desperately needed her.

"Please" I said with an edge of desperation in my voice.. "I don't know what's going on but I just really need somebody to tell me the truth" the last word came out in a sob and I sat there for a moment in silence trying to quell the urge to just cry uncontrollably.

"Listen" the voice on the other end was almost gentle "I need to make a few phone calls but I promise you I WILL call you back". She said it calmly and with so much conviction that I really wanted to believe her...

"Please, you promise?" I almost begged.

"I promise" she replied

"Ok" I took a deep breath and released it, "I'll talk to you soon" and hung up.

I then proceeded to aggressively pace my living room floor staring at my phone while chain smoking and muttering to myself like a crazy person. I knew who she was calling... I was replaying all those little red flag moments in my head from the last few months, pinning down dates or behavior I'd found suspect when the phone rings again. It's her. I froze for a moment... shocked she followed through and called me back, terrified of what this meant... I answered the phone and what followed was about the most soul crushing 45 min of my life

After initial introductions June (again not the real name) and I began comparing stories and it became glaringly obvious what was happening... They had actually been in a relationship several years prior and had run back into each other on the aforementioned war game where they began to flirt on group chat. All those nights he'd been on the computer he'd been chatting with her. All those times he'd go hang out with his "friend's" he been using my car to take her out and my phone to communicate with her. The time I was sick and alone with NO resources... you guessed it... he was with her! Oh but it get's better...

"Do you have a little silver hummingbird necklace?" she inquired. "Yes, my mother gave it to me for my 27th birthday actually I love it"

"Really?" she said "Cause he gave me one for mother's day"

"OMG" I almost yelled into the phone as I ran to my room and tore through my jewelry box... it wasn't in there... it was around her neck.

From there we discovered not only had he been giving her my property as gifts but he'd had her over to our apartment passing it off as his own. I didn't want to believe him capable of doing something so cruel and disrespectful when I have allowed him to sponge off me for the better part of 3 years. Unfortunately as in confirmation she began describing my apartment to a T, all the way down to my bed sheets. June said he even pulled my "secret box" from beneath my bed and offered to use my adult items on her. She said she found it weird and didn't partake but I threw them away due to the sheer ick factor. Finally she uttered the words I didn't know I wanted to hear"

"You know what we should do? We should bust him together."

My mind immediately started racing, indeed we should! I was a mix of fury, adrenaline and despair so my thinking wasn't exactly strait and details begin to get hazy here. We arrange to meet up at my work and find a way to lure Bob over there but unfortunately she lived about 40 min away whereas I only live about 6 miles from our destination so if I got there first I'd need to stall him (assuming he wasn't out on a delivery). I called a trusted coworker of mine at work sobbing and begging for a ride... to his everlasting credit he got somebody to cover and LEFT WORK to come get me and bring me to my car. When I got to Bob's workplace I went inside to retrieve my keys (this isn't uncommon as they know the car is mine) and was stopped half way through store by Bob's manager wanting to talk about the payment due on "our account".

I don't remember the exact dialog but I said something along the lines of "Look, I don't know when you are going to get your payment." I looked utterly defeated and told him we could never afford the TV in the first place and how I had begged Bob to take it back and now we don't have it anymore as Bob has pawned it and I don't have the money to get it out let alone pay him. I was full on blubbering at this point when he stopped me to clarify that his EMPLOYEE pawned a rental TV under contract. I confirmed that this was indeed true and presented him with the pawn ticket. HE WAS MAD! Apparently such an act is illegal and is terms for immediate termination but he assured me that if I could get the TV back to him there would be no harm no foul and he would terminate my contract without any penalties. I thanked him for his understanding and told him to let Bob know I would be over at my workplace.

My heart is pounding in my chest and blood is roaring in my ears... what was I going to say? What was HE going to say? Would June make it here before he did?? My heart sinks when I see Bob's hulking form making it's way in my direction, I frantically scan the parking lot for June's car... she's not here yet and I'm out of time. He hits the door looking out of breath and guilty as hell and I just stare at him stone faced. I walk outside silently to light a cigarette unsure of exactly what to say and he follows me wordlessly outside.

He starts in with the "it's not what it seems" and "it's all just a terrible misunderstanding" and I just let him dig himself deeper into his hole of lies. I listen, I nod, I pretend to understand until a particular car pulls into view. June parks in the space directly next to where we were standing and gets out of the car... "Hey Bob, how ya' doing?" Bob has gone visibly pale, he hangs his head and sits down on the curb saying nothing to either of us. June and I greet each other and awkwardly shake hands before again returning our attention to Bob. June begins berating him on his lies and deceit, unveiling all of our mutual info and subsequent conclusions while I stood mostly in silence agreeing at the appropriate times but mostly still in shock. After 20 minutes of this I finally mustered up the courage to take my stand.

"We are done, I don't want to see you ever again. I'll pack up your things (only 2 boxes worth) and your sister can contact me in a few days to pick them up. Now I want your key." I held out my hand and looked at him. "Not until I get my stuff out, then you get your key" he replied. I tried to argue but he continued to refuse and used his large stature to his advantage knowing I'd have no chance in a physical altercation. He turned and walked away heading back toward his workplace, June and I talked a little more before she handed me my hummingbird necklace and left. I stood there alone staring at nothing trying to wrap my head around what had just transpired and then I cried... oh how I cried.

With nowhere else to turn I had only one call to make... to my mom. The moment she answered I unleashed this deluge of words at her that were half sobs and half rant. "Stay right there, I'm coming" she said. God Bless my mother! Soon enough both of my parents pull up in my dad's truck and my mom gets out to comfort me and give me hugs. I look at the driver's seat and see my father with his jaw is clenched and a death grip on the steering wheel while staring strait ahead... OH Crap! They take me to the pawn shop and my parents write a check for more than $500 to get the TV out, we then drive strait over to Bob's workplace and return the TV to the manager. As the manager finishes up the cancellation paperwork my dad spots Bob pacing around the back of the parking lot talking frantically on the phone. Unfortunately I didn't get to hear the ensuing conversation but my dad returns within a few minutes holding my house key and looking victorious.

"I believe this is yours" he says as he hands me the key and then pulls me into a hug and I cried a little into his shoulder. My dad gave me a squeeze, kissed my temple and whispered into my ear "They're firing him." I leaned back to look at my dad and he just smirked and said "Now he's jobless and homeless." I thought about it for a second before I said in my most sarcastic tone "Ohhh I'm sooo soorrryyy to hear that" We laughed about it a little and my parents gave me some words of wisdom before leaving me to drive myself home where my best friend was already waiting to keep me company.

Bob and his sister showed up a few days later for his pitiful boxes of stuff, he tried to talk to me, to explain... but my best friend descended on him like a harpy if he muttered more than a few syllables in my direction so he was shut down almost immediately. He left that night and I have never heard from him since, I blocked him on social media but there was really no need as he made no effort to contact me on any level. That's Bob... ever lazy, ever deluded and always an a**hole.

So here I am many years later happily married to my high school sweetheart and the mother of two beautiful little boys and grateful to have moved on when I did. The experience with Bob certainly took its toll I lost a lot of weight due to lack of appetite but had a myriad of trust issues moving forward but the point is I moved forward. I have grown leaps and bounds as a person since this experience and am truly content with where my life is now but every now and then when I'm drifting off to sleep I can't help but wonder... what ever happened to good ol' Bob? Is he out there somewhere... in the woods with a stick and his wits as his only gear... waiting for a martian government to make its move.

Ah well, a girl can dream ;)

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to message me with any questions or comments :)

TL;DR: I discovered my boyfriend was cheating so I organized a sting operation with the other woman. Boyfriend ended up chickless, jobless and homeless within a matter of hours.

(source) story by (/u/Jenabear7897)

#prorevenge #by /u/Jenabear7897 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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mamashitty · 5 years

Text

The Mustachio Adventure

Title: The Mustachio Adventure Fandom: Check, Please! Word Count: 2,561 Ship: N/A Find it on my AO3 & pillowfort! Blurb: Life is tough for six-year-old Maisie Zimmermann with a new baby sister. Uncle Crappy comes to the rescue though, and fiinnaallly, delivers in his promise of getting her an epic mustache of her own.

“UNCLE CRAPPY!” “CORNDOG!”

It was always a contest between Shitty and his hockey niece, Maisie, to see who could greet the loudest. Today it sounded like Maisie was the winner, her shout bordering on a screech that made Shitty’s ears want to bleed. He managed to hide his wince behind a grin and then he pretended to nearly fall over as she flung herself at him. He caught her up in a hug and spun around fast once he was done pretending to nearly topple. Her laughter was music to his ears. He planted a sloppy smooch to her cheek and laughed some more as she pulled a face and wiped her cheek.

“Gross Uncle Crappy,” and then she wriggled out of his arms and skipped towards Jack and Bitty who were piling some last-minute luggage into their car. Shitty grinned, watching the happy little family for a moment. Then he meandered towards them, his flip-flops slapping loudly on the driveway.

“Thank you for doing this for us, Crappy,” Jack said, looking a bit like he needed Shitty to put him at ease.

“Jackabelle, it is fine.”

“Camilla and I try to schedule these switches better but…”

“Jack. It is okay, brah. Besides, it will be nice just spending some time with the Corndog,” Shitty said, winking at Maisie who grinned.

“Bitty! Help me get my bags, please?” Maisie asked, and she held her hand out to Bitty, who took it and led her back inside. Shitty watched Jack who was watching Maisie and Bitty. Shitty grinned, slipping an arm around Jack’s shoulder and tugging him into a hug. Jack allowed it, and soon Shitty was giving his cheeks a sloppy smooch. Jack pulled a near-identical face to the one his daughter had given Shitty not five minutes earlier and Shitty laughed.

“Jack, relax. Maisie and I are going to have fun.”

“Thanks again, Shits. I owe—” Jack began but Shitty cut him off.

“Brah, you owe me nothing. Just have a fun weekend with your man. You are allowed it. Wanna help me get that booster seat of hers into my car?” Shitty asked, knowing it would put Jack’s mind at ease if he helped install it. Shitty knew how to install it, he had learned how to install car seats and boosters shortly after he had learned that Jack and Camilla were going to be having a kid. He had gotten himself some books on raising kids too because he knew he wanted to be the ‘swawesomest uncle in the world. But, he also knew, Jack always felt more comfortable if he did the car seat or booster install himself and Shitty was all about making him comfortable.

“Yeah, okay,” Jack said, with a nod and Shitty gave his shoulder one quick squeeze before leading the way to his car.

The booster install did not take long at all. It was a lot easier than the bulky car seat that Maisie used before the booster. Shitty held back as Maisie hugged both Jack and Bitty and said their goodbyes. Then he helped her into the booster seat, a wicked grin dancing on his face. She mirrored his grin and then tilted her head.

“Uncle Crappy….”

“Maisie-Daze…” He winked and reached over into his front seat to grab a small package he had. He handed it to her and she opened it without his prompting. Then her eyes went wide.

“Uncle Crappy! Chyeah!” She squealed in delight once she opened it. Shitty had not stopped grinning and he continued to do so as he helped remove the fake mustache and then helped affix it to her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous, but still, Shitty felt a tear come to his eye. It had taken a while to find a fake mustache that looked similar to his, and he was happy with the result. He slid his phone out from his pocket and snapped a few pictures before showing them to Maisie.

“You look ‘swawesome, Maisie.”

Maisie had a very intense and serious expression on her face as she looked over the photos of her with the mustache. Then she looked away from the phone and grinned.

“I look like you, Uncle Crappy! ‘Swawesome!”

Shitty blinked. Surprised by how choked up those words made him feel. He ruffled up Maisie’s hair before taking his phone back and sliding it into his pocket. Then he climbed into the front seat and buckled himself up. He was keeping an eye on Maisie until after dinner time. His plan was to take her to the mall for some exploring, shopping, and dinner. The drive to the mall was nice and the was filled with chatter and singing along horribly to the random music that played on the radio. Neither Shitty nor Maisie knew the lyrics to most of the songs, but they made up their own.

“Where to first, Maisie?” Shitty asked once he helped Maisie down from her seat. Her mustache was still affixed to her face.

“Food!” Maisie exclaimed, grinning.

It was technically a little too late for lunch and too early for a dinner... Shitty looked thoughtful for a moment and then decided on some pretzels.

“How does a big pretzel sound?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched Maisie. She said nothing, only nodded her head up and down excitedly. Shitty laughed and keeping a firm grip on her hand, led the way from the car into the mall.

The two of them were seated on a bench, people watching and eating a big pretzel.

“Uncle Crappy, how do you not get food in your ‘stache all the time? This is kind of annoying,” Maisie explained, with a pout.

“I do get food in it all the time and drinks. You just have to clean it up after,” Shitty replied and he handed Maisie a clean napkin. She took the napkin, huffed out a sigh, and wiped her face. Shitty was impressed that the fake ‘stache stayed on her while she did that. He noticed that people would do double-takes when they noticed Maisie had a mustache on her face but no one had said anything yet, and Maisie did not seem to notice. Shitty never cared what people thought of himself and what he wore or at times was not wearing, but he did have a protective streak when it came to his friends and definitely when it came to Maisie. He did not want anyone saying anything negative to her just because she wanted to don a sweet mustache.

“Uncle Crappy?” Maisie asked, her voice soft and maybe a touch insecure sounding.

Shitty was unable to stop the frown that crossed his face, “What is it, Maisie?”

“Is it... I just—…” Maisie frowned and crumpled up the napkin she had used to wipe her face in her little hand.

Shitty said nothing and waited, giving Maisie all the time she needed to figure out what she wanted to say. To get her words in order. She looked equal parts frustrated and maybe a little sad too. It broke his heart. He gave her a gentle nudge on the shoulder as the silence lapsed between them for a few seconds. She huffed out a sigh, and sighing was such a strange thing to witness from a six-year-old.

“Nora is really annoying,” she finally said. “All she does is cry, Uncle Crappy. She can sit up now on her own, and that is cool. Mom thinks she wants to crawl and might soon, and I think that will be ‘swawesome but… she just cries so much.” Maisie said, and there was a faint quiver to her voice that he could just hear her fighting. He reached an arm around her shoulder and tugged her into his side, giving her a squeeze.

“She can’t talk, Maisie. She can’t use words, crying is how she tells your Mom, Steve, and you that she needs something,” Shitty explained and he noticed that Maisie rolled her eyes at that. Ouch, that eye roll kind of hurt.

“I know, Uncle Crappy. But… sometimes she just seems to cry for no reason and nothing can make her happy,” Maisie said, “and that is annoying.” The last bit she said with more than a hint of defiance.

“Everything is so new to her, Maze. Do you get sad for no reason sometimes?” He asked, gently. “Don’t you sometimes cry too when you are frustrated or annoyed? Scared? That is a lot of emotions for a baby.” Shitty had no idea if babies really felt emotions at all or not, but he had to assume they did to some extent. He was suddenly struck with how hard being a baby probably was. He also found himself worrying that maybe he was approaching Maisie’s concerns the wrong way. He did not want to invalidate her annoyance because she had every right to be annoyed. Crying babies were annoying, he had first-hand experience with that from when Maisie had been a baby. She had not said anything and he noticed she was pouting underneath that faux mustache of hers.

“Maisie, it is okay to be annoyed by your sister and to find her annoying,” Shitty said, abruptly changing tactic as he was pretty positive now that he had said the wrong thing before. That he had approached it all wrong. “It will get better, though. She’ll find ways to tell you what she needs, and she’ll start talking, too.”

“I wish she could talk now. And… play with me better,” Maisie explained, and there was a definite sniffle there.

Ugh. Shitty’s heart felt like it was snapping in two at that noise. He gave her another tight squeeze, and then he brought up his hand to mess up her hair some. Maisie let out an indignant squeak and squirmed away from him.

“Soon, she will be able to play better,” Shitty said, knowing that that soon would probably feel like a lifetime to someone as young as a six-year-old.

“Can we go to the toy store?” Maisie asked, suddenly and Shitty blinked at the abrupt change of mood and topic. Again, he felt uncertain, wondering if maybe he should try to continue the conversation they had just been on or if he should follow Maisie’s lead and change course. He doubted he would force any of his adult friends to stay on topic if they really wanted to change it. Maybe with some issues, but certainly not with all.

“Chyeah, let’s go to the toy store,” he said, climbing to his feet and exaggerating how difficult it was. Maisie giggled at him. They tossed their napkins in a trash-bin and Maisie took his hand again for the walk to the toy store.

They had been in the toy store for about ten minutes when Shitty noticed a little boy approaching Maisie. He was taller than her but looked to be the same age. It as difficult for Shitty to guess the ages of kids, each year he was astounded by how small his fifth-graders actually were at the start of the school year. Shitty continued to read the back of the box he had been looking at but keeping half an eye on Maisie and the new kid.

“Why do you have that on your face?” The kid asked, and Shitty decided that he did not like his tone.

Maisie looked up from the two toys she had been comparing, “I want to look like my Uncle Crappy.” And the way she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Fuck yes!

The kid now looked towards Shitty, who gave him a wave. Then he went back to looking at Maisie.

“Oh,” he said. “That is weird.”

Maisie shrugged her shoulders, “weird is okay.”

“Does it itch?” The kid asked half a second later, and Shitty began to relax as Maisie stopped looking at the two toys she was comparing and answered the kid’s question. He kept close to two of them, vaguely wondering where the boy’s parents were. Maisie and the kid, whose name turned out to be Benton, had a pretty civil conversation. Even if Benton sometimes made comments that Shitty thought were a little douchey for a six-year-old, or maybe seven-year-old. Benton’s parents showed up, not too long into the conversation, but they did nothing to interrupt it. They did keep staring at Maisie and her sick ‘stache.

“This is Maisie,” Benton said after he noticed his parents. “She wants to look like her Uncle Crappy.”

“Uncle… Crappy…?” The Mom questioned.

Shitty held out his hand, “That’s me. Nice to meetcha,” if handshakes could be awkward then that handshake was. Benton’s parents shooed him away after the introductions, and Maisie went back to looking over the two toys, a frown on her face.

“Which one do you think Nora would like the most?” She asked, holding them up.

“The Fox,” Shitty said, pointing to it. She stared at the fox for a few seconds before nodding her head in agreement. They went to pay for the fox and a toy that Shitty picked out for Maisie. He kept thinking back to Benton and his family, and the way they had been staring at Maisie. She had not seemed to notice, though. Or if she had, it had not bothered her. His hockey niece was a total badass.

It was a little after six when he dropped Maisie off with Camilla and Steve. Maisie had kept her ‘stache on all throughout dinner. She kept up a lively conversation, too. Shitty had enjoyed himself, not that he was surprised. He always had a good time with his Corndog.

“Mom! Like my sick ‘stache?” Maisie asked as soon as Shitty had helped her out of the car. She went barreling for Camilla, who deftly handed the baby off to Steve, so she could scoop Maisie up in a hug.

“I love it, Maisie.” She said, laughing. Maisie then reached around to fistbump Steve, who also confirmed that he liked it.

Maisie then began to stare at her sister and her sister stared right back.

“I think Nora likes it too,” Maisie said after a second, and then she wriggled out of her mom’s arms and ran back to Shitty. He gave her a hug before handing off the gift she had bought Nora.

“I got Nora a present,” she said, all serious as can be.

“Well, why don’t you and Steve go inside and give Nora the present?” Camilla asked, smiling. Maisie nodded her head and ran into the house with Steve trailing after her, after saying a hasty goodbye to Shitty.

“Shitty, thanks again.” Camilla said, “Jack and I try to be good with the hand—…”

Shitty held his hand up, “Camilla, it is okay. I told that to Jack earlier. I love spending time with Maisie. She was ‘swawesome today.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to get her to take that mustache off for days,” Camilla said with a laugh.

“I have a whole stockpile if she ever needs more,” Shitty explained, grinning. He then gave Camilla a hug, before unhooking the booster seat for her.

Being an uncle was fucking awesome, and Shitty, he loved it. He could not wait for his next adventure with Maisie the Corndog.

#omgcp #shitty knight #omgcp fic #a.shitty writes #a.shitty fics #adventures with uncle shitty

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praphit · 6 years

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MI6: if you're not peeling off your face and eating waffle ice cream... you're not living.

We have gotten some great action this year, haven't we??!

First we got Liam Neeson, literally jumping from train car to train car. One train car simply didn't contain enough bad guys to beat up. Seriously, picture Liam Neeson getting bored on the train, (due to already beating everyone up), crawling out the window, climbing up top of the train car, so he could jump to another car to beat asses - that's how this year started!

Then, we got Thanos - who beat up an entire universe; let that soak in. Not only did he beat up a universe, but a universe full of superheroes. He beat them in humiliating fashion, and then made them disappear. I don't know if anyone in history has ever known such defeat.

We had Black Panther, fighting for all black people. I could have sworn I saw someone walking through the mall wearing a BP outfit; that's accepted as normal now. Black Panther is now part of our culture/heritage.

And of course we had about five movies with The Rock in them (prob five more to come). He has been beating up anyone he can find: gangs, giant gorillas, wanna-be super villains - the last movie I saw him in he jumped from one building to another building (on fire, mind you... the building was on fire... though it wouldn't have surprised me if The Rock had also been casually on fire as well) - he had a prostetic leg, which was coming off - so a one-legged Rock jumped from one tall building to another, through a window, so he could beat up this burning building.

That's a whole lot of action! - and I love it!

But, my man Tom Cruise says - "Pssh, you call that action? - All of that CG, all of those "super powers", all of those fake explosions and stunt men. I do it phorealz! Let me remind y'all how it's really done."

- Though we may say "But, Tom, you're 55 years old!"

TC: "55 years young, baby... 55 years young."

BOOM! All in yo face with the action in "MI6: Fallout"

Here we find Ethan Hunt (TC) once again accepting a mission. But, this time, he seems sad about it. This time he's battling inner demons. He's thinking to himself, "Man, I'm tired. I've been making these movies for so long. I've lost count on how many bones I've broken trying to entertain you fools who won't go to see my Oscar worthy performances anymore. Plus, how many loved ones have I put in danger by choosing to accept these impossible missions?"

All of this doubting and self loathing is "falling out" and compiled on top of failing a mission, and BOOM! - we're on our way!

I'm not gonna waste time here - I LOVED THIS MOVIE! TC knows what I love! Not just what I LIKE, but what I LOVE!

I like Burger King (double whopper, are you kidding me?? Onion Rings... and those french toast sticks... lip smacking good), but I LOVE this new place I discovered in Hampden (Baltimore), MD. It's called "Waffie" (if you care about enjoying life you'll google it and go) - Waffle/Desserts, and even ice cream action. I'd go there every day and every night if I could. I may get a job there... I'm going to own that place one day.

Oh my goodness... each bite takes me to Heaven.

Gonna get married in that place. My wife will give birth in that place. And yes, I will be buried in that place too... with a ice cream waffle in my mouth....

But, anyway.... people may say, "John Praphit, that sounds like obsession to me." To that I say, "You don't know what love is!" If it's not border line insane, it's not love!

LOVE, people! TC gives it to me with these MI movies. You never get tired of what you love:

Masks - Why aren't more movie makers putting face-peel-offs in their films?

They make any movie better!

Think about The Titantic! Remember when Leo asks Kate Winslet to kindly strip down so he may wholesomely paint her? What if after she undresses... BAM! - face peel off! Maybe she's an elderly black lady under there!

It'll even work for a cartoon. Remember "Inside Out"? - the character "Joy". As we get to know Joy and how joy works in our lives. The other emotions start cheering Joy, the camera zooms in and... BOOM! - face peel off! Now, she's not an emotion at all, but a cocaine addiction. YES! - see that?? - layers!

Action -

There is a bathroom scene in here that has one of the best action sequences of all time! In fact, this changes the game. Everybody is going to do their action in the bathroom from now on. The Rock's next movie, on his way to fight some sorcerer, he'll prob jump out of a plane, through a ceiling, into a bathroom for an epic battle.

There's also a helicopter scene in here (TC actually flying) - it's kickass, and somehow while it's all so amazing with the action, the shots of the scernery are equally as amazing. This director was able to entertain me with more than bullets and karate, but with a beautiful sunrise.

It was like - "Damn, your face is ALL effed up! But, that part of the mountain is so vivid... it's a shame someone is about to blow it up."

Lastly (with the action), there's a scene where Tom sprints for like 15 minutes straight. TC is a good bit older than me... I have never ran that well in all of my life, and I used to run track & field. TC should be running in the Olympics.

Espionage (& music) - I was once again hyped that I can accomplish anything in life as long as I assemble the right team. And that music! You can tell whether the mission is going to fail or succeed by the music. You know that MI tune :) I wish life were that way. Let's all start praying that God adds some cool music to our personal lives; when it cranks up we know we're on the right track.

This movie is really all about the team, not just TC! - that's prob why it works so well. Everyone has their chance to shine. That's the prob with peepz like Denzel and The Rock; they never have the right team assembled... they usually never have a team at all. Tom doesn't really have to carry these movies (though he's a great actor) - it's all about the mission, the friends, the suspense, and the face peel offs, baby! Denzel and The Rock ain't got none of that (though I love them both).

I recently saw Denzel's "The Equalizer 2" - decent action flick, but it was only good when Denzel was on camera (by himself, cuz other people just dragged him down). Learn from MI movies! It's about the team!

You may say, "But, Praphit, what about The Avengers?" Aaaah, they've got the team, but they don't have TC's tenacity; his utter craziness to keep doing his own stunts. Captain America and Iron Man and Thor and all of them play it too safe; that's why Thanos won. If TC were leading them, they would have beaten Thanos to an awesome soundtrack, and someone would have ripped off their face! Maybe Black Widow... to reveal she has been Stan Lee the whole time.

Grade: A

I'm sure they'll make another one. TC doesn't seem to be slowing down anytime soon. Are there any young action heroes anymore? - apparently it doesn't matter, but I can't think of any (Vin, The Rock, Liam, Charlize, Denzel, Will, Keanu, Gal, Scarlett, Sly) - not that these peepz are... you know... OLD (well some are), but no twenty somethings. Action heroing is an old persons game! It takes time to develope kick ass moves, to find ridiculous scripts, and piss bad guys/gals off.

Tom Cruise (and others still putting your bodies through this madness at an older age), I salute you. May your craziness and dedication never waver in making these silly movies for us.

I want to see MI10, with Tom in his 70's, still sprinting and peeling off his face.

#Mission Impossible #Fallout #MI6 #john praphit #praphitproductions.com #tom cruise #Avengers #The Rock #praphit #liam neeson #denzel #action movies #action heroes

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finsgamesfpsgame · 2 years

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Creature Designs:

Discuss the different types of zombies, some run, some walk, some eat brains- what do yours do? Why? Compare them against other monsters.

George A. Romero- popularised modern zombies Look into the film and discuss..

Sequel to Night of the Living Dead has four people holding up in a mall where they try to figure out what to do next due to the zombie outbreak, which is taking over the country. It's not often a sequel to one of the greatest horror films ever made manages to be even better but that's what Romero pulled off in this masterpiece, which isn't just one of the greatest horror films but it takes its place as one of the greatest films period. The movie works on so many levels because it's disgusting, vile, violent, sadistic, depressing, funny, smart and technically brilliant. The movie not only works as a blood and guts horror film but it also works perfectly as a drama because Romero's screenplay gives us plenty of time to get to know the four characters and feel for them. That's something brave to do with a horror film and in its theatrical cut, running an epic-feeling 127-minutes, we get a lot of character development and there's even a large stretch where we forget the zombies because we're so wrapped up in the character stuff. I think the screenplay contains the perfect mixture of drama and horror but it also manages to throw in some social comments as well as some great humor. The screenplay never really gets the credit it deserves, which might seem like a strange thing to say considering it's one of the most respected horror films by critics and fans. I thought it was a masterful job to set the action inside a mall, a place where the characters can get everything they need to live a perfect life yet there is that small problem of the zombies. The performances are another major plus even though these too get some bashing by some. Ken Foree, Scott H. Reiniger, Gaylen Ross and David Emge don't deliver Oscar-caliber performances but they do suit the characters just fine and really bring them to life, which is a rather hard thing to do. Being able to bring the characters to life isn't possible if the performances are bad. We also have the masterful special effects by Tom Savini, which are still breathtaking all these years later. There are countless classic gore shots including the head being blown off at the start of the film, the blood pressure death and the unforgettable gut pulling sequence. The zombie creations are all simple but very good. I stop short of calling this the greatest horror film ever made but it's certainly in my top three. The movie works on so many levels that you can't help but get caught up in all the drama each time you view the film, which isn't something that can be said about too many films within the genre.

Compare them against other monsters.

Silent Hill- (demons and hallucinations)

In silent hill i wouldn't say they were zombies, but I wouldn't say they were demons either. I would probably call them Hallucinations that the people have constructed through bad viewing, I really like the one on the right. It makes me think of the doctor in the plague with the mask.

The Last of Us- cordyceps

These have come from the process called cordyceps where an ants body gets taken over by a mushroom or fungi which makes them crawl to the highest place and die so they can sprout from their heads.

Doom Eternal (demons)

Doom eternal demons i really like. As they remind me of the fire guy from suicide squad when he turns into the fire demon and fights the enchantresses brother. This is because of the horns and the skull, I also really like the bronzed armor with engravements on them, and over all the character is just ripped.

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feelingsdusk-writes · 6 years

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Count to five, do it again

Chapter 6

It isn't even a conscious choice, really.

When Stiles woke up a few days ago, he would have given anything for the hustle and bustle of his town to come back, but, oh, how things have changed. They say it takes around three weeks to form a new habit, but it's only taken Stiles six days to become used to the almost complete silence, for his hearing to become more sensitive. So, now, the racket Thomas is making is grating and jarring and, three streets and a park after leaving the hospital, Stiles has put a few meters between them without even noticing what he's doing.

Stiles has tried telling him to tone it down, telling him he's drawing too much attention towards them, but Thomas refuses to listen. And what can Stiles do? Threaten him with the bat? Hah, because that would go well. So no, he has to roll with it and make the most of the situation.

Thomas curses loudly when he trips over his own two feet and Stiles cringes at how his voice carries even from a couple of feet ahead. Everything the blond does is obnoxiously loud, and the more noise Thomas makes, the more distance Stiles leaves between them.

So now he's completely aware of what he's doing... and he doesn't feel even the tiniest bit bad about it. So sue him. If Thomas wants to draw a huge target on his back, that's on him. Stiles is not going to get harmed because of it. He has to get out and find his dad and he's not going to fail because an asshole is being an idiot. Let Thomas draw the attention of whatever is out there to himself, and Stiles will be able to see the threat coming from miles away.

(If there's really something or someone out there, because Stiles' suspicion about the wall being for them is stronger and stronger with each passing minute.)

Or if Stiles doesn't, he's pretty sure Peter will, because he seems to be sharing Stiles' idea of using Thomas as bait since he's "offered" so readily. And if Peter shares any similarities with the wolf he so much resembles, his senses will be much sharper than Stiles', and he'll be more capable of noticing anything before it shows than him.

Stiles eyes the manbeast walking beside him warily. He still makes Stiles' skin crawl something fierce. Sure, so far Peter's made no move to harm him, but Stiles can't trust that. He has the feeling that Peter is the type of person that doesn't do anything that won't benefit his interests. Which means that he won't hurt Stiles unless it benefits him somehow, but he won't help him either if it will cause him any type of loss. Or more like, if the benefit he'll gain from helping Stiles will be less than the damage it will cause him.

Stiles is surprisingly fine with that. Well, not surprisingly, because isn't Stiles the same? Isn't he wired exactly like that too? He is. People like to lie to themselves, but Stiles never does. Everything Stiles does is self-serving in a way. Everything. In one way or another, it always comes back to Stiles.

He brings Tara the cookies she loves because he likes the way she smiles at him, because that makes Stiles feel warm and nice. He kept silent about her for a long time because it made Stiles feel like a better son. He hounds his dad to eat healthy because Stiles is terrified of losing him and being alone.

Stiles, Stiles, Stiles, Stiles. Always ultimately Stiles.

So yes, Peter makes Stiles' skin crawl, but not because of his appearance or his morally grey stance in life. Who wouldn't be wary walking beside a hulking beast that could kill you with its pinky's nail? Stiles hasn't proven himself indispensable or gained Peter's loyalty, after all.

But then again, neither has Peter. And Stiles may be 147 pounds of skin, bones and sarcasm, but he's not one you would want to mess with either. There's a reason he's never bullied at school, and it's not precisely that he's popular. Stiles tends to inflict back the pain that's bestowed upon him tenfold, and that has garnered him a reputation that he's proud of. Peter had better be careful with his choices because Stiles will go down kicking and screaming, and quite possibly dragging Peter himself with him.

And yes, Stiles may be making assumptions about how Peter is, but he's never been wrong about anyone before. He knew Harris would be a dick the moment he met him, he knew Finstock was going to be weird and mouthy, but ultimately good. Even as a kid, he knew Tara would be an angel that came from heaven and he knew that Johnson was a good guy that would sneak him chocolate when his dad wasn't looking, but Michaels was the one to approach for advice. At first glance, Whittemore a douche, Cooper a backstabbing but mousey-looking idiot, Daehler a creep, Martin a genius, Mahealani a nice cool guy, Maldonado a sweet and shy girl, and so on, and so on.

So for now, he walks beside Peter.

---

It takes a while to reach the Preserve by foot and Stiles isn't going to waste that time completely. Now that Thomas is unknowingly acting as bait and Peter is beside him keeping an eye out, Stiles feels secure enough to divide his attention from the road and look around more carefully. Again, not that he trusts him to keep him safe, but it's a given that Peter will be faster, so Stiles will react accordingly.

His eyes dart around continuously, trying to take in every detail. As always, besides the noise they're producing, there's no other sound. Not even the buzz of electronics. Which, now that he thinks of it, it's really weird. In every place he's been to (that's not damaged), the electronic devices worked perfectly well and were completely silent. The station, the mall, the supermarket... All the machines at the hospital were on, but they never produced any sound at all. And Stiles knows they should. And now that he thinks of it... Well, he'll have to wait until they're back to check that but he's sure...

Stiles stops suddenly and looks around frowning. There. And there too. But how? And when? And he has... He takes another uneasy look around, heart starting to beat faster.

Peter notices him stopping and looks at him quizzically, which is really strange that Stiles can tell, because his face is that of a wolf's and not as expressive as a human's. But somehow he knows. Which is another thing to add to the list of weird things, but he'll get back to it later. Now there are more important matters.

"Thomas," he calls him, trying to do it as low as he can while still making sure he's heard.

"What," he snaps back loudly and Stiles winces internally at the volume.

Stiles ignores him, pretty sure by now that Thomas is doing it on purpose; partly to annoy Stiles, partly to convince himself that he's not scared, which is so, so stupid because how can he overcome his fears if he doesn't acknowledge that he's afraid? In any case, stupid or not, Stiles doesn't want to let him know how much it affects him because it will only make things worse with someone like Thomas.

He makes a gesture to make him wait and looks at the nearest building that drew his attention. He swallows thickly and approaches it cautiously. He peers inside through the glass, frowning and clutching his bat tightly.

"Is now really the time for window shopping, man?" Thomas says incredulously and a touch derisively.

Stiles jumps slightly at hearing him so near, and then resists the urge to shut him up by force. He breathes in and goes back to inspecting the inside of the shop.

"Well, it's never going to be cheaper," he replies blithely because his tongue is a better weapon where Thomas is concerned, and he hears Peter snort softly.

Tables, chairs, lamps... Sofas, bedposts, wardrobes, cupboards... Cash registers, telephone at the back. Lots of places to hide and spring from...

"The fuck?! You're worse that my woman, man," he snarks snidely, something ugly in his voice.

... and Thomas keeps wailing. He takes a step back just in case, but keeps looking inside through the corner of his eye. At the moment, Thomas is the one closest to the window.

"Your woman," Stiles says, disbelieving.

There's something in the way he says that... Stiles contains a grimace. The more time he spends with this guy, the more he rubs him the wrong way and raises his hackles.

"My girlfriend, man. Always buying shit that she doesn't need. Like all that fresh... What's wrong with the frozen stuff? It tastes ok! And then she pitches a fit when I buy a car without telling her. If she hadn't spent so much on food, we wouldn't have had problems with the rent, dammit. It would have been at least... what, fifty dollars less? No, eighty, I think? Fresh food is fucking expensive..."

Stiles doesn't know what face he's making, but it must be epic, because it's prompting Thomas to talk and talk more to explain his reasoning. And the more he talks, the more disgusted Stiles feels by this man-child that thinks that buying protein powder (to get more muscle, because he needs it to protect his house, his things, his woman, you know?) with his girlfriend's money (because he's already spent his own and then some on a car he didn't need, and he can't go without the protein!) when they're short to pay the rent is ok. And he gets angry because his girlfriend got pissed off, because he knows she has something stashed away for emergencies. And isn't paying the rent an emergency?

"... always bitching about every thing I do! Do you see me complaining about how much she spends on tampons or whatever?!"

Fuck, Stiles really wants to bash this asshole's head against the wall. How can that poor woman stand him? Stiles would have... Then, something clicks suddenly.

"Ah, so you mean the girlfriend that you no longer have?" Stiles cuts in before he can stop himself.

(A Stiles with his hackles raised is a nasty Stiles, so sue him.)

"What?! I never said... How did you-?!"

"Because no woman would lower herself to stand a piece of shit like you for long. Or man, for that matter."

"You little-" Thomas starts growling at the same time that he shoots a dark look at Peter for his amused snort.

Peter smiles with all teeth and Thomas backs off hurriedly, shutting up instantly. Which is interesting, because he obviously can't see what Stiles can see. Does this mean that Thomas' subconscious somehow does? Because it's certainly not because of anything Peter has said that has made alarms ring in his head. Peter doesn't talk much. How many times has Stiles heard him speak since yesterday? Twice? Thrice? He even kept silent during their discussion this morning.

Other things to file away for later.

"This was destroyed yesterday," Stiles continues, ignoring Thomas' glower.

"What?" Thomas sneers at the same time that Peter makes an inquiring sound. "No, it's not."

"Yesterday it was," Stiles replies, completely sure.

"You are crazy. Can't you see it's not? Look I've come here like a thousand times with my girlfriend..."

"No longer your girlfriend," Stiles corrects him gently and with a smile, taking pleasure in how he grits his teeth.

"...and it looks exactly the same! What, did a crew of elves come? Did they repair it with their magical magic?"

"I don't know," Stiles replies, still in that same gentle tone and smiling. "Were they the ones that built the wall in one night? Or destroyed about half the buildings in this town? Or made all the people disappear?" Thomas' mouth snaps shut with a click and Stiles feels inordinately pleased about that. Stiles doesn't know what it is about him that sets his teeth on edge, but the more time he spends with Thomas, the more acutely he feels it. It's not about him being a douche, it's something else and Stiles doesn't like it at all. And it's absurd because Peter is the one that looks like a monster out of a horror movie. Then again, not all monsters look like monsters, right? "All I know is that this shop was completely destroyed yesterday. And that coffee shop over there? It was too. And now they aren't, so why?"

"Fuck this," Thomas snarls, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "I'm out. I'm not going to go into a forest with a psycho like you." He looks at Peter and sneers. "Or Mr. Silence of the Lambs here. I'm out."

"Wow, what a record," Stiles mocks nastily. He doesn't care about Thomas staying or not. If he leaves, he won't be painting a target on their backs anymore. If he stays, they get to keep their annoying bait. Stiles (and Peter) gains and loses something whatever happens. "You've managed to hang onto your balls for this long. Congratulations, it must have been so hard for you!" He claps softly but quickly. "And now that you've found an excuse to leave, you can go and hide with Donna. You know, stay in one place, where you can be found easily and you're an even easier target. But at least that will give Donna the time to help Ally and Marion, so hey, you have your uses after all."

"Fuck you, man! You think you're the shit, don't you? Hah, you're going to get killed while I'm safe, bitch. Good luck in hell, getting your ass busted by-"

"And good luck to you on your way back," Stiles cuts in, smiling at him, wide and sinister, and twirling his bat for effect. "Alone, asshole."

Thomas gapes. He looks wide-eyed at the road they've left behind them and then at the one in front of them. Then he swallows audibly, sneers at both Stiles and Peter, and turns to go back to the hospital. Some twisted part of Stiles finds it funny that he tries to be silent as he walks.

"Also good luck trying to find a way to get out of here on your own if we get killed," Stiles singsongs at his retreating back.

Peter starts laughing. It's a barking sound, guttural and the stuff straight out of the worst horror movie.

(Thomas hastens his pace.)

---

Peter and Stiles continue walking in silence. It takes a long time to get to the preserve by foot and Stiles is missing his bike fiercely. It's going to be a long day.

He's not being as thorough as he was before, when he had Thomas acting as bait, but he's trying to keep an eye out for more anomalies while paying attention to his immediate surroundings. So far, he's spotted another three buildings that he's sure were destroyed the last time he checked them. It's really confusing and unnerving.

He takes a look at Peter and his heart skips a beat at the primal expression on his face and the glowing blue eyes that had been normal since they left the hospital this morning. As if sensing his turmoil, Peter turns to look at him, eyes unnervingly focused.

"Three more buildings," he blurts out.

"The elves magical magic again?" Peter growls lowly, obviously as a mock towards Thomas, not Stiles. (How he knows that, Stiles doesn't know.) His enunciation sounds weird, as if it's difficult for him to get out the words.

"Yeah," Stiles confirms.

"How many so far?" Peter asks, his enunciation clearing marginally. The more words come out of his mouth, the less primal he looks. Stiles swallows thickly.

"Five that I noticed," Stiles hums, peeling his eyes from Peter as if he's noticed nothing. "And I'm not sure, but I think that at least two and a half floors of the hospital were full of rubble before, and when I came back with Ally yesterday they weren't."

"Not sure?"

Stiles shoots a dirty look at him. "I was busy running for my life, sorry for not being able to give to a clearer answer."

Peter snorts, amused. "So touchy," he purrs mockingly. His words are clearer with each passing minute.

Stiles narrows his eyes dangerously as he brandishes his bat. "So touchy that I'll make your brains splatter against the ground if you do something like that ever again."

Peter pauses to study Stiles openly. Then he smiles widely, obviously delighted. "You're not lying. You do believe you can do that."

That tone. Stiles frowns. "And you somehow can tell that."

"Well, you have very expressive eyes, sweetheart."

"You're lying. It's not that."

He is. Peter is lying, Stiles knows. But it's not his face or his eyes that give him away, Stiles just knows.

Why? Just what is Stiles? Is he like Peter? Does he look human to others, but Peter can see he's not? Just like Stiles can see Peter is not human? Can he tell Stiles wasn't bluffing because of that?

"Am I? Hmmm. How are you so sure?"

"I just... I just am. And you're trying to..." He's toying with Stiles... Wait, no, he isn't. He's fishing. But there's nothing to catch because Stiles doesn't know. "How can you tell? Does it have to do with..." He looks at the wolf features, the fur, the snout, the fangs. By the time Stiles lowers his eyes, they're watering from the splitting headache he suddenly has, and there's a ringing in his ears. Thunder explodes not far away. "What do you see?" he blurts out, his hand closing reflexively around Peter's arm. It's warm and he can feel the powerful muscles shift beneath his palm. It helps him keep himself grounded and upright on his trembling legs.

Peter takes a sharp intake of air at the touch and shakes under Stiles' palm. "What do I... see?"

"Yes," he chokes out. "I see something like a wolf walking on two legs when I look at you." He reaches with his free hand, his index finger brushing briefly against the protruding muzzle before retracting, lightning fast. "What do you see when you look at me, Peter?"

What is Stiles?

Breathe, he thinks. Breathe, Stiles. Breathe because Peter's lips are moving but he can't hear a thing. Breathe!

In.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Out.

One.

Two.

Thr-

---

Can't you see?! Please, John!

Please!

He's going to kill me!

---

I won't let you.

---

Stiles wakes up with a start. Rain is pouring heavily outside. It's hitting the window continuously, almost as fast as his racing heart. He can hear it going down the drain heavily too, like a never-ending cascade. Lightning illuminates the cloud-filled sky every now and then, and thunder follows it almost immediately.

Stiles' body is being shaken by full body tremors. He swallows with a grimace and shivers, feeling cold on too many levels. Peter, unlike him, is like a furnace, he notices detachedly. Not just warm, but scorching hot. Under his fingers, he can feel Peter's pulse. It's a steady thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

He doesn't remember when he closed his eyes but it's not like it's important anyways. Stiles opens them sluggishly. The storm is easing up outside and the thunder and lightning have stopped completely. The furry rug under him is so soft that he can't help but bury his free hand in it. He closes his eyes again.

Thump-thump.

He opens his eyes and raises them to meet Peter's. Stiles' hand twitches where it's still clasped around his forearm. He should let go but he doesn't want to. (Why?) He realizes vaguely that Peter hasn't made a move to detach him either. (Why?) He's so warm. So, so warm.

Thump-thump.

"I'm not a... something, Stiles," Peter says suavely in his guttural voice, breaking the easy silence.

It rings with a subtle but powerful warning, but Stiles doesn't need it. Just like Stiles is not crazy, Peter is not a thing.

Stiles blinks slowly. "You're a werewolf," he says simply.

"Hmm," Peter hums.

"You were born a werewolf."

"Hmm," Peter hums again.

"I can tell when people are lying to me. I know how people really are the moment I meet them. What am I, Peter?"

"I don't know."

"What do you see?"

Peter leans over him for a few seconds. Then he raises his free hand and lets it hover over his face. One claw traces the outline of Stiles' eyes in the air for a second before Peter speaks. "Whiskey colored eyes." He grazes the skin over his nose and cheek, surprisingly lightly. "Moles." He lifts the forearm Stiles is grasping and shakes it gently, but making sure to not dislodge him. Stiles tightens his grip. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump under his hand. "Gangly limbs everywhere."

So nothing out of the ordinary. No extra appendages or different features. Just 147 pounds of Stiles, sarcasm and anxiety included.

He locks eyes with Peter. Peter's eyes are incredibly blue and they're making something niggle at the back of Stiles' mind. Has he met Peter before? Thinking about it is making his head hurt. But wait, didn't Thomas say it? Didn't he say Stiles woke up calling a Peter? Stiles swallows around the lump in his throat.

"What am I, Peter?"

"I don't know."

Stiles sighs and closes his eyes for a second. He rubs his forehead tiredly, hoping to ease the slight headache that he has. He feels somewhat numb, but that's normal for him after what happened. He pushes himself up as he reopens them to take a good look around, hand still clasped around Peter's forearm.

It's an arts and crafts shop. It's colorful and cozy, the type of shop that has too many things filling every space in sight and looks a mess, but has a method to its madness. It's ironic that Stiles had never set foot inside before today, and now he has spent who knows how long unconscious on its rug covered wooden floor. He's also pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to sense how soft the rug was before today, because three days ago, a mixture of rubble and dust covered that same floor.

"Six," he announces tiredly. At Peter's inquiring look he elaborates. "Magical magic."

Peter looks around for a moment, an expression of distaste crossing his face briefly before disappearing. "It's exactly as I remember it... Down to the coffee stain on the counter."

"Coffee stain?" Stiles asks, his lips twitching at the affronted tone.

"Same exact spot as a month ago," Peter nods with a grimace.

Stiles snorts softly. "Well, this was completely destroyed three days ago, so that elven magical magic is the bomb, then." Peter's head turns abruptly to look at Stiles. "What?"

"Three days you say?"

"I think so? I'm pretty sure I checked this one on my third day, but I may be wrong. After so many buildings it kinda got blurred." Peter is frowning, Stiles notices. "What? What is it?"

"When did you...? How many days have you been...?"

"Inside Silent Hill minus weird coming at me from dark places? Oh, wait," Stiles contains the impulse of making a crack about his first encounter with Peter. It's a close thing, but he manages. Peter narrows his eyes at him but Stiles knows he's amused. "About six days."

"Huh," Peter replies simply.

"Huh?"

"The day I followed you? Yesterday?" he says as if he's checking to be sure that Stiles is following him.

"Yes?" Stiles says, prompting him to continue because he doesn't know what Peter is trying to get at.

"That's when I saw the town empty, Stiles. It was perfectly normal before."

A beat of silence and then.

"What?!" Stiles exclaims, gaping.

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#Count to five do it again #teen wolf fics #my writing #teen wolf #steter

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feelingsdusk · 6 years

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Count to five, do it again (chapter 6)

I’m baaack!!! Sorry for the wait? I was really exhausted and I decided to just do what I felt like for a while. Hopefully I’ll be able to resume a constant posting schedule ^^; Anyways, hope you like it!

It isn’t even a conscious choice, really.

When Stiles woke up a few days ago, he would have given anything for the hustle and bustle of his town to come back, but, oh, how things have changed. They say it takes around three weeks to form a new habit, but it’s only taken Stiles six days to become used to the almost complete silence, for his hearing to become more sensitive. So, now, the racket Thomas is making is grating and jarring and, three streets and a park after leaving the hospital, Stiles has put a few meters between them without even noticing what he’s doing.

Stiles has tried telling him to tone it down, telling him he’s drawing too much attention towards them, but Thomas refuses to listen. And what can Stiles do? Threaten him with the bat? Hah, because that would go well. So no, he has to roll with it and make the most of the situation.

So now he’s completely aware of what he’s doing… and he doesn’t feel even the tiniest bit bad about it. So sue him. If Thomas wants to draw a huge target on his back, that’s on him. Stiles is not going to get harmed because of it. He has to get out and find his dad and he’s not going to fail because an asshole is being an idiot. Let Thomas draw the attention of whatever is out there to himself, and Stiles will be able to see the threat coming from miles away.

(If there’s really something or someone out there, because Stiles’ suspicion about the wall being for them is stronger and stronger with each passing minute.)

Or if Stiles doesn’t, he’s pretty sure Peter will, because he seems to be sharing Stiles’ idea of using Thomas as bait since he’s “offered” so readily. And if Peter shares any similarities with the wolf he so much resembles, his senses will be much sharper than Stiles’, and he’ll be more capable of noticing anything before it shows than him.

Stiles eyes the manbeast walking beside him warily. He still makes Stiles’ skin crawl something fierce. Sure, so far Peter’s made no move to harm him, but Stiles can’t trust that. He has the feeling that Peter is the type of person that doesn’t do anything that won’t benefit his interests. Which means that he won’t hurt Stiles unless it benefits him somehow, but he won’t help him either if it will cause him any type of loss. Or more like, if the benefit he’ll gain from helping Stiles will be less than the damage it will cause him.

Stiles is surprisingly fine with that. Well, not surprisingly, because isn’t Stiles the same? Isn’t he wired exactly like that too? He is. People like to lie to themselves, but Stiles never does. Everything Stiles does is self-serving in a way. Everything. In one way or another, it always comes back to Stiles.

Stiles, Stiles, Stiles, Stiles. Always ultimately Stiles.

So yes, Peter makes Stiles’ skin crawl, but not because of his appearance or his morally grey stance in life. Who wouldn’t be wary walking beside a hulking beast that could kill you with its pinky’s nail? Stiles hasn’t proven himself indispensable or gained Peter’s loyalty, after all.

But then again, neither has Peter. And Stiles may be 147 pounds of skin, bones and sarcasm, but he’s not one you would want to mess with either. There’s a reason he’s never bullied at school, and it’s not precisely that he’s popular. Stiles tends to inflict back the pain that’s bestowed upon him tenfold, and that has garnered him a reputation that he’s proud of. Peter had better be careful with his choices because Stiles will go down kicking and screaming, and quite possibly dragging Peter himself with him.

And yes, Stiles may be making assumptions about how Peter is, but he’s never been wrong about anyone before. He knew Harris would be a dick the moment he met him, he knew Finstock was going to be weird and mouthy, but ultimately good. Even as a kid, he knew Tara would be an angel that came from heaven and he knew that Johnson was a good guy that would sneak him chocolate when his dad wasn’t looking, but Michaels was the one to approach for advice. At first glance, Whittemore a douche, Cooper a backstabbing but mousey-looking idiot, Daehler a creep, Martin a genius, Mahealani a nice cool guy, Maldonado a sweet and shy girl, and so on, and so on.

So for now, he walks beside Peter.

—

It takes a while to reach the Preserve by foot and Stiles isn’t going to waste that time completely. Now that Thomas is unknowingly acting as bait and Peter is beside him keeping an eye out, Stiles feels secure enough to divide his attention from the road and look around more carefully. Again, not that he trusts him to keep him safe, but it’s a given that Peter will be faster, so Stiles will react accordingly.

His eyes dart around continuously, trying to take in every detail. As always, besides the noise they’re producing, there’s no other sound. Not even the buzz of electronics. Which, now that he thinks of it, it’s really weird. In every place he’s been to (that’s not damaged), the electronic devices worked perfectly well and were completely silent. The station, the mall, the supermarket… All the machines at the hospital were on, but they never produced any sound at all. And Stiles knows they should. And now that he thinks of it… Well, he’ll have to wait until they’re back to check that but he’s sure…

Stiles stops suddenly and looks around frowning. There. And there too. But how? And when? And he has… He takes another uneasy look around, heart starting to beat faster.

Peter notices him stopping and looks at him quizzically, which is really strange that Stiles can tell, because his face is that of a wolf’s and not as expressive as a human’s. But somehow he knows. Which is another thing to add to the list of weird things, but he’ll get back to it later. Now there are more important matters.

“Thomas,” he calls him, trying to do it as low as he can while still making sure he’s heard.

“What,” he snaps back loudly and Stiles winces internally at the volume.

Stiles ignores him, pretty sure by now that Thomas is doing it on purpose; partly to annoy Stiles, partly to convince himself that he’s not scared, which is so, so stupid because how can he overcome his fears if he doesn’t acknowledge that he’s afraid? In any case, stupid or not, Stiles doesn’t want to let him know how much it affects him because it will only make things worse with someone like Thomas.

“Is now really the time for window shopping, man?” Thomas says incredulously and a touch derisively.

Stiles jumps slightly at hearing him so near, and then resists the urge to shut him up by force. He breathes in and goes back to inspecting the inside of the shop.

“Well, it’s never going to be cheaper,” he replies blithely because his tongue is a better weapon where Thomas is concerned, and he hears Peter snort softly.

Tables, chairs, lamps… Sofas, bedposts, wardrobes, cupboards… Cash registers, telephone at the back. Lots of places to hide and spring from…

“The fuck?! You’re worse that my woman, man,” he snarks snidely, something ugly in his voice.

… and Thomas keeps wailing. He takes a step back just in case, but keeps looking inside through the corner of his eye. At the moment, Thomas is the one closest to the window.

“Your woman,” Stiles says, disbelieving.

There’s something in the way he says that… Stiles contains a grimace. The more time he spends with this guy, the more he rubs him the wrong way and raises his hackles.

“My girlfriend, man. Always buying shit that she doesn’t need. Like all that fresh… What’s wrong with the frozen stuff? It tastes ok! And then she pitches a fit when I buy a car without telling her. If she hadn’t spent so much on food, we wouldn’t have had problems with the rent, dammit. It would have been at least… what, fifty dollars less? No, eighty, I think? Fresh food is fucking expensive…”

Stiles doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it must be epic, because it’s prompting Thomas to talk and talk more to explain his reasoning. And the more he talks, the more disgusted Stiles feels by this man-child that thinks that buying protein powder (to get more muscle, because he needs it to protect his house, his things, his woman, you know?) with his girlfriend’s money (because he’s already spent his own and then some on a car he didn’t need, and he can’t go without the protein!) when they’re short to pay the rent is ok. And he gets angry because his girlfriend got pissed off, because he knows she has something stashed away for emergencies. And isn’t paying the rent an emergency?

“… always bitching about every thing I do! Do you see me complaining about how much she spends on tampons or whatever?!”

Fuck, Stiles really wants to bash this asshole’s head against the wall. How can that poor woman stand him? Stiles would have… Then, something clicks suddenly.

“Ah, so you mean the girlfriend that you no longer have?” Stiles cuts in before he can stop himself.

(A Stiles with his hackles raised is a nasty Stiles, so sue him.)

“What?! I never said… How did you-?!”

“Because no woman would lower herself to stand a piece of shit like you for long. Or man, for that matter.”

“You little-” Thomas starts growling at the same time that he shoots a dark look at Peter for his amused snort.

Peter smiles with all teeth and Thomas backs off hurriedly, shutting up instantly. Which is interesting, because he obviously can’t see what Stiles can see. Does this mean that Thomas’ subconscious somehow does? Because it’s certainly not because of anything Peter has said that has made alarms ring in his head. Peter doesn’t talk much. How many times has Stiles heard him speak since yesterday? Twice? Thrice? He even kept silent during their discussion this morning.

Other things to file away for later.

“This was destroyed yesterday,” Stiles continues, ignoring Thomas’ glower.

“What?” Thomas sneers at the same time that Peter makes an inquiring sound. “No, it’s not.”

“Yesterday it was,” Stiles replies, completely sure.

“You are crazy. Can’t you see it’s not? Look I’ve come here like a thousand times with my girlfriend…”

“No longer your girlfriend,” Stiles corrects him gently and with a smile, taking pleasure in how he grits his teeth.

“…and it looks exactly the same! What, did a crew of elves come? Did they repair it with their magical magic?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles replies, still in that same gentle tone and smiling. “Were they the ones that built the wall in one night? Or destroyed about half the buildings in this town? Or made all the people disappear?” Thomas’ mouth snaps shut with a click and Stiles feels inordinately pleased about that. Stiles doesn’t know what it is about him that sets his teeth on edge, but the more time he spends with Thomas, the more acutely he feels it. It’s not about him being a douche, it’s something else and Stiles doesn’t like it at all. And it’s absurd because Peter is the one that looks like a monster out of a horror movie. Then again, not all monsters look like monsters, right? “All I know is that this shop was completely destroyed yesterday. And that coffee shop over there? It was too. And now they aren’t, so why?”

“Fuck this,” Thomas snarls, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “I’m out. I’m not going to go into a forest with a psycho like you.” He looks at Peter and sneers. “Or Mr. Silence of the Lambs here. I’m out.”

“Wow, what a record,” Stiles mocks nastily. He doesn’t care about Thomas staying or not. If he leaves, he won’t be painting a target on their backs anymore. If he stays, they get to keep their annoying bait. Stiles (and Peter) gains and loses something whatever happens. “You’ve managed to hang onto your balls for this long. Congratulations, it must have been so hard for you!” He claps softly but quickly. “And now that you’ve found an excuse to leave, you can go and hide with Donna. You know, stay in one place, where you can be found easily and you’re an even easier target. But at least that will give Donna the time to help Ally and Marion, so hey, you have your uses after all.”

“Fuck you, man! You think you’re the shit, don’t you? Hah, you’re going to get killed while I’m safe, bitch. Good luck in hell, getting your ass busted by-”

“And good luck to you on your way back,” Stiles cuts in, smiling at him, wide and sinister, and twirling his bat for effect. “Alone, asshole.”

Thomas gapes. He looks wide-eyed at the road they’ve left behind them and then at the one in front of them. Then he swallows audibly, sneers at both Stiles and Peter, and turns to go back to the hospital. Some twisted part of Stiles finds it funny that he tries to be silent as he walks.

“Also good luck trying to find a way to get out of here on your own if we get killed,” Stiles singsongs at his retreating back.

Peter starts laughing. It’s a barking sound, guttural and the stuff straight out of the worst horror movie.

(Thomas hastens his pace.)

—

Peter and Stiles continue walking in silence. It takes a long time to get to the preserve by foot and Stiles is missing his bike fiercely. It’s going to be a long day.

He’s not being as thorough as he was before, when he had Thomas acting as bait, but he’s trying to keep an eye out for more anomalies while paying attention to his immediate surroundings. So far, he’s spotted another three buildings that he’s sure were destroyed the last time he checked them. It’s really confusing and unnerving.

“Three more buildings,” he blurts out.

“The elves magical magic again?” Peter growls lowly, obviously as a mock towards Thomas, not Stiles. (How he knows that, Stiles doesn’t know.) His enunciation sounds weird, as if it’s difficult for him to get out the words.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirms.

“How many so far?” Peter asks, his enunciation clearing marginally. The more words come out of his mouth, the less primal he looks. Stiles swallows thickly.

“Five that I noticed,” Stiles hums, peeling his eyes from Peter as if he’s noticed nothing. “And I’m not sure, but I think that at least two and a half floors of the hospital were full of rubble before, and when I came back with Ally yesterday they weren’t.”

“Not sure?”

Stiles shoots a dirty look at him. “I was busy running for my life, sorry for not being able to give to a clearer answer.”

Peter snorts, amused. “So touchy,” he purrs mockingly. His words are clearer with each passing minute.

Stiles narrows his eyes dangerously as he brandishes his bat. “So touchy that I’ll make your brains splatter against the ground if you do something like that ever again.”

Peter pauses to study Stiles openly. Then he smiles widely, obviously delighted. “You’re not lying. You do believe you can do that.”

That tone. Stiles frowns. “And you somehow can tell that.”

“Well, you have very expressive eyes, sweetheart.”

“You’re lying. It’s not that.”

He is. Peter is lying, Stiles knows. But it’s not his face or his eyes that give him away, Stiles just knows.

Why? Just what is Stiles? Is he like Peter? Does he look human to others, but Peter can see he’s not? Just like Stiles can see Peter is not human? Can he tell Stiles wasn’t bluffing because of that?

“Am I? Hmmm. How are you so sure?”

“I just… I just am. And you’re trying to…” He’s toying with Stiles… Wait, no, he isn’t. He’s fishing. But there’s nothing to catch because Stiles doesn’t know. “How can you tell? Does it have to do with…” He looks at the wolf features, the fur, the snout, the fangs. By the time Stiles lowers his eyes, they’re watering from the splitting headache he suddenly has, and there’s a ringing in his ears. Thunder explodes not far away. “What do you see?” he blurts out, his hand closing reflexively around Peter’s arm. It’s warm and he can feel the powerful muscles shift beneath his palm. It helps him keep himself grounded and upright on his trembling legs.

Peter takes a sharp intake of air at the touch and shakes under Stiles’ palm. “What do I… see?”

“Yes,” he chokes out. “I see something like a wolf walking on two legs when I look at you.” He reaches with his free hand, his index finger brushing briefly against the protruding muzzle before retracting, lightning fast. “What do you see when you look at me, Peter?”

What is Stiles?

Breathe, he thinks. Breathe, Stiles. Breathe because Peter’s lips are moving but he can’t hear a thing. Breathe!

In.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Out.

One.

Two.

Thr-

—

Can’t you see?! Please, John!

Please!

He’s going to kill me!

—

I won’t let you.

—

Stiles wakes up with a start. Rain is pouring heavily outside. It’s hitting the window continuously, almost as fast as his racing heart. He can hear it going down the drain heavily too, like a never-ending cascade. Lightning illuminates the cloud-filled sky every now and then, and thunder follows it almost immediately.

Stiles’ body is being shaken by full body tremors. He swallows with a grimace and shivers, feeling cold on too many levels. Peter, unlike him, is like a furnace, he notices detachedly. Not just warm, but scorching hot. Under his fingers, he can feel Peter’s pulse. It’s a steady thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

He doesn’t remember when he closed his eyes but it’s not like it’s important anyways. Stiles opens them sluggishly. The storm is easing up outside and the thunder and lightning have stopped completely. The furry rug under him is so soft that he can’t help but bury his free hand in it. He closes his eyes again.

Thump-thump.

He opens his eyes and raises them to meet Peter’s. Stiles’ hand twitches where it’s still clasped around his forearm. He should let go but he doesn’t want to. (Why?) He realizes vaguely that Peter hasn’t made a move to detach him either. (Why?) He’s so warm. So, so warm.

Thump-thump.

“I’m not a… something, Stiles,” Peter says suavely in his guttural voice, breaking the easy silence.

It rings with a subtle but powerful warning, but Stiles doesn’t need it. Just like Stiles is not crazy, Peter is not a thing.

Stiles blinks slowly. “You’re a werewolf,” he says simply.

“Hmm,” Peter hums.

“You were born a werewolf.”

“Hmm,” Peter hums again.

“I can tell when people are lying to me. I know how people really are the moment I meet them. What am I, Peter?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you see?”

Peter leans over him for a few seconds. Then he raises his free hand and lets it hover over his face. One claw traces the outline of Stiles’ eyes in the air for a second before Peter speaks. “Whiskey colored eyes.” He grazes the skin over his nose and cheek, surprisingly lightly. “Moles.” He lifts the forearm Stiles is grasping and shakes it gently, but making sure to not dislodge him. Stiles tightens his grip. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump under his hand. “Gangly limbs everywhere.”

So nothing out of the ordinary. No extra appendages or different features. Just 147 pounds of Stiles, sarcasm and anxiety included.

He locks eyes with Peter. Peter’s eyes are incredibly blue and they’re making something niggle at the back of Stiles’ mind. Has he met Peter before? Thinking about it is making his head hurt. But wait, didn’t Thomas say it? Didn’t he say Stiles woke up calling a Peter? Stiles swallows around the lump in his throat.

“What am I, Peter?”

“I don’t know.”

Stiles sighs and closes his eyes for a second. He rubs his forehead tiredly, hoping to ease the slight headache that he has. He feels somewhat numb, but that’s normal for him after what happened. He pushes himself up as he reopens them to take a good look around, hand still clasped around Peter’s forearm.

It’s an arts and crafts shop. It’s colorful and cozy, the type of shop that has too many things filling every space in sight and looks a mess, but has a method to its madness. It’s ironic that Stiles had never set foot inside before today, and now he has spent who knows how long unconscious on its rug covered wooden floor. He’s also pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to sense how soft the rug was before today, because three days ago, a mixture of rubble and dust covered that same floor.

“Six,” he announces tiredly. At Peter’s inquiring look he elaborates. “Magical magic.”

Peter looks around for a moment, an expression of distaste crossing his face briefly before disappearing. “It’s exactly as I remember it… Down to the coffee stain on the counter.”

“Coffee stain?” Stiles asks, his lips twitching at the affronted tone.

“Same exact spot as a month ago,” Peter nods with a grimace.

Stiles snorts softly. “Well, this was completely destroyed three days ago, so that elven magical magic is the bomb, then.” Peter’s head turns abruptly to look at Stiles. “What?”

“Three days you say?”

“I think so? I’m pretty sure I checked this one on my third day, but I may be wrong. After so many buildings it kinda got blurred.” Peter is frowning, Stiles notices. “What? What is it?”

“When did you…? How many days have you been…?”

��Inside Silent Hill minus weird coming at me from dark places? Oh, wait,” Stiles contains the impulse of making a crack about his first encounter with Peter. It’s a close thing, but he manages. Peter narrows his eyes at him but Stiles knows he’s amused. “About six days.”

“Huh,” Peter replies simply.

“Huh?”

“The day I followed you? Yesterday?” he says as if he’s checking to be sure that Stiles is following him.

“Yes?” Stiles says, prompting him to continue because he doesn’t know what Peter is trying to get at.

“That’s when I saw the town empty, Stiles. It was perfectly normal before.”

A beat of silence and then.

“What?!” Stiles exclaims, gaping.

#steterweek2017 #my fan fiction #steter

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gamerszone2019-blog · 5 years

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How Stranger Things Is One Big Game of Dungeons & Dragons

New Post has been published on https://gamerszone.tn/how-stranger-things-is-one-big-game-of-dungeons-dragons/

How Stranger Things Is One Big Game of Dungeons & Dragons

It’s no secret that Dungeons & Dragons plays a huge role in Netflix’s Stranger Things. From the very first game we see the young friends playing together in Season 1, to Will’s efforts to keep the campaign going with his friends in the show’s third season, and even to an official tie-in Stranger Things D&D Starter Set, the game is an integral part of the show and its characters. But did you know beyond the shots of the famous red game box and obvious monster references, there’s a lot more D&D in Stranger Things than you probably realized?As much as Will pleads with his friends to play D&D in Stranger Things Season 3, he never realizes that he actually is in a campaign—in real life. The friends’ heroics to defeat the monster and save the village goes far beyond the tabletop as references, parallels, and homages make this season a huge, terrifying game of D&D. Roll an arcana check as we dive into just some of them.

Warning: Major spoilers for Stranger Things 3 follow!

Note: Abilities mentioned below are described from the fifth edition of Dungeons & Dragons.

Eleven Is So Wizard

El’s powers may be the result of scientific experiments, but any magic wielder in D&D will recognize the “spell” she uses for most of the season. Scrying is used to see any creature on your plane of existence, and the more familiarity you have with the target of your prying eyes, the better chance you have to succeed. The object of your magical gaze has a chance to become aware of your presence, however, a hard lesson El also learns when Billy stares right back at her.

And, it almost goes without saying, but Telekinesis is another powerful spell in a wizard’s arsenal in D&D that also serves as El’s primary means of attack. El ripping the Mind Flayer’s head down the middle is the kind of impressive feat akin to rolling a Natural 20.

The Party Meets in a Tavern

Scoops Ahoy isn’t just an ice cream parlor in Stranger Things—it’s also where the Scoops Troop begins their epic quest. Like almost all great D&D stories, our heroes gather in the “tavern” and recruit new allies, like the clever and, dare we say, rogue-like Erica Sinclair. She thinks quickly on her feet and looks for ways to get out of tight spots (literally and figuratively), can crack complicated codes, and she’s definitely wily. We’d go on a quest with her anywhere.

For Will the Wise and his party, their inn is Mike’s basement. Instead of ale, they swap stories and gather over Orange Crush and cereal. Truly brave adventurers.

Dungeon Crawl

After the meeting at the tavern usually comes the dungeon crawl, a long trek through a dark cave or maze of rooms deep underground to defeat a monster and find treasure. Along the way the party battle enemies and find valuable items to aid them in their quest. Can you see where we’re going with this? It’s the Scoops Troop who first scouts out the dungeon-like, labyrinthine maze under Starcourt Mall after solving the puzzle to make it inside. They’re successful in their crawl, uncovering the conspiracy that was right beneath their feet–until they roll that natural 1 on stealth and find themselves face to face with an enemy.

Later it’s Joyce Byers, Jim Hopper, and Murray Baumann who start the same dungeon crawl with the help of map that looks like it came straight from the notes of a well-organized Dungeon Master.

Detect Favored Enemy

Will the Wise might be a wizard…

…but the show depicts Will Byers wielding a powerful ability that only rangers receive in D&D. Detect Favored Enemy, when cast, serves as the same sort of warning that Will often feels prickling his skin when the Mind Flayer is near. Rangers get to choose the type of their favored enemy in character creation, but Will had no choice—his enemy picked him.

About That Mind Flayer…

Speaking of the Mind Flayer in Stranger Things, its name is one of the most direct connections to Dungeons & Dragons in the show.

In D&D, mind flayers, also called Illithids, don’t look similar to the towering mass of body parts and goo in Season 3, but there are a few correlations. Mind flayers do have tentacles protruding from their face and nasty psychic powers. These creatures of the Underdark operate in a hive mind, and they’re insidious creatures that consume humanoid brains. Mind flayers communicate through telepathy, and often engage in mind control to combat their enemies—very similar to what we see happen to Billy, Heather, and more of the Flayed when they’re activated and mind-controlled to find more hosts.

Dustin the Bard

When a party is in a pinch, it’s an opportunity for some of the more underrated classes to step up and prove their worth. In Season 3 it was Dustin Henderson who surprised everyone with his dulcet tones, evoking the unassuming yet useful skill set of the Bard class. As the group embarks on their final quest, Dustin Henderson sings a song of inspiration to grant everyone who hears it a boost. It might have been a boost of annoyance in some cases, granted, but it was also definitely a moment of joy and motivation for everyone else listening in—especially all of us in the audience. Oh, and thanks to him and his song, the group solved the final puzzle.

Stranger Things: 11 Amazing Times Eleven Used Her Powers

The Satanic Panic Was Real

The epilogue of Season 3 mentions briefly the belief that a “rise in Satanism” is to blame for the strange events in Hawkins, a clear reference to the real Satanic Panic. The Satanic Panic began during the late 1970s. One of the most notorious examples of the moral panic over Satanism is the disappearance of a Michigan teenager in 1979, who was rumored to have run away under the delusion of believing Dungeons & Dragons to be real. The boy was found safe just a few weeks later, but an investigator continued to spout the theory to anyone who would listen that the game was dangerous and inspired violence and delusions. The “panic” and paranoia over Satanism continued well into the 1980s.

The role-playing game survived through it all, reaching its current heyday as a nerd culture phenomenon that brings players together worldwide thanks to online play and livestreams. Now the only panic surrounding Dungeons & Dragons is finding a group to play with.

That’s just the tip of the dungeon of D&D references in Stranger Things. There are also some other small homages, like the disembodied voice proclaiming the dark funhouse at the county fair a “Cave of Horrors,” similar to the classic D&D module “Tomb of Horrors” written by Gary Gygax. There’s also the name of the final episode, “The Battle of Starcourt,” which sounds like a campaign book you’d expect to find on bookshelves filled with tabletop RPGs.

Did you roll high on your perception check to spy even more? Let us know in the comments.

Kelly Knox is a freelance writer who also contributes to StarWars.com, Marvel.com, Nerdist, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @kelly_knox to talk Star Wars, Dungeons & Dragons, comics, and more.

Source : IGN

#Game News #Game Reviews

0 notes

filmfanatic82 · 7 years

Text

Anything... (Chapt 5)

Link to AO3 (HERE)

“Hey. Everything okay?” Kimberly asks in a semi-awake state. “What are you do here?”

Trini climbs in through Kimberly’s bedroom window and takes a moment to gain her bearings. She’s well beyond disheveled looking, sporting epic bedhead and nothing more than an oversized concert t-shirt and some mesh basketball shorts.

Trini knows how this must look. Hell, she doesn’t even have shoes on. At least, though, she managed to remember to throw on a sports bra before taking off and sprinting the four miles to Kimberly’s house.

Thank god for small miracles.

Trini wants nothing more than to flat out tell Kimberly the real reason she’s standing in her bedroom, unannounced, at roughly 2:45am. That, ever since a few days ago, when Zordon revealed that Rita -- or what’s left of her essence -- was back and ready wreak havoc, that she couldn’t sleep. That every time Trini closes her eyes, she sees that horrific face staring right back at her and feels those boney, dagger-like fingers wrap around her neck.

Trini wants to tell Kimberly but something deep inside of her is holding it all back.

“Dunno. I just woke up and felt like something was off. Figured I’d come see if you were okay.” Trini gives a slight shrug of her shoulders, trying desperately to give off the appearance that this type of middle of night visit is no big deal.

“And you didn’t think of texting?” Kimberly raises an eyebrow. She isn’t buying it. Not for one, single, solitary second.

Trini can feel her skin start to crawl as Kimberly’s eyes hone in on her.

Fuck.

Once again the idiot award goes to…

Trini shouldn’t have come. She should’ve just dealt with it the same way that she has been prior to Kimberly being something more to her than just “Kimberly”. Trini should’ve just gone to the quarry and camped out in her special spot for a few hours until the fear and anxiety had subsided.

“I… Uh… I should go.” Trini turns to head back out of the window, but is stopped short by Kimberly’s hand gently wrapping around her bicep.

“Please don’t,” Kimberly exhales in almost a whisper.

“Okay.”

Without another word, Kimberly guides Trini towards her bed, pulls back the covers, and motions for her to get in.

Trini crawls under the covers and before she can even fully situate herself, she feels Kimberly's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her inwards until every aspect inch of their bodies are touching. It’s a foreign sensation to say the least -- to be practically engulfed by another -- but one that she could easily get used to.

Trini lays there completely still for a moment as her brain finally catches up to her current state.

Holy shit.

Trini is in bed… under the covers… with Kimberly Hart… and if feels freaking amazing.

Upon this thought, Trini’s heart rate instantly skyrockets and her palms grow sweaty. She swallows thickly, in an attempt to keep the next wave of thoughts at bay.

“Relax. I’ve got you.” Kimberly mumbles into the top of Trini’s head, wrapping her arms a bit tighter in the process.

“I am.”

“Uh-huh,” Kimberly sleepily hums in response with a slight sarcastic tone. “Totally. 100% relaxed.”

Trini lets out a frustrated sigh and then wills her body to go limp in Kimberly’s arms. “Better?”

“Much.”

Trini swears she can almost feel Kimberly’s smile radiating from behind her and can’t help match it.

A comforting silence settles between the two of them as they just lay with each other, simply existing within the same space. Their breathing quickly falls into a synchronized rhythm… in and out… in and out… in and out…

“Trini?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Zordon’s right? About Rita?”

Trini’s teeth sink deeply into her bottom lip as she lets that question sit for a moment or two.

Trini knows the answer. No. Scratch that. She’s, without a doubt, 150% sure of what the answer is.

Rita -- or Rita incarnate -- is back.

There’s no question about it. Now, it’s just a matter of when the next attack will occur.

“Dunno.”

Kimberly lets out a heavy sigh into Trini’s head and manages to snuggle up even closer. She wraps her hands into the fabric of Trini’s shirt, as if to anchor herself within it’s security. “We’ll be okay.”

Will they?

Trini prays that it’s the case this go around. That they’ll pull through, in the 11th hour and save the world -- and each other -- as they did last time.

But she’s just not sure.

“Always, Princess. Always.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

BUZZ.

“Trini, your phone,” Kimberly mumbles into Trini’s head, eyes still closed and desperately trying to cling to the last moments of sleep.

Trini grumbles a non-coherent response and then rolls over, burying her face into what she thinks is a pillow.

“Trini…”

“Five more minutes,” Trini replies, nuzzling in deeper. It’s warm and cozy and god help the person that attempts to make her move.

“Trini…”

“What?” Trini’s eyes pop open and she’s hit with the sudden realization that she isn’t buried within a pillow…

Fuck.

Trini is face fuckin’ deep in Kimberly’s cleavage. And oh god, it’s wonderful and horrifying and--

“See something you like?” Kimberly looks down at Trini with a suggestive smirk.

Trini scrambles backwards, extracting her face as fast as humanly possible. “I… I…”

Kimberly can’t hide her amused expression as she watches Trini squirm. “Your phone?”

“Right. Shit.” Trini snatches up her phone from Kimberly’s nightstand and quickly answers it.

“Hi Mamí… Yes… I know… I know… I’m okay… I just…” Trini shifts the phone between her ears, taking a brief respite from the steady stream of yelling coming from the other end. “No… It’s not that. No. I…”

Trini takes a momentary pause as her eyes connect with Kimberly’s.

Trini needs this to go away and fast. Before her mother can jump to any more conclusions. Before Trini finds herself grounded for the rest of the foreseeable future.

The magic words.

She doesn’t want to have to do it -- especially not in front of Kimberly -- but knows it’s a sure fire way to instantly bring her mother down off of the ledge.

Trini closes her eyes, swallows, and pulls the trigger. “I'm at Kimberly’s.”

And presto. Just like magic, the tone on the other end of the line suddenly make a drastic shift.

Kimberly picks up on this and mouths to Trini “Me?” in complete and utter confusion.

But Trini doesn't give a response. She can’t. At least not yet anyways.

“Yes… Sure, Mamí… I’ll tell her… You too. Bye.” Trini clicks the phone off, chucks in back onto the nightstand, and falls backwards on the bed, letting out a long, cumbersome sigh in process.

“So…” Kimberly lingers on the end of the word in an attempt to nudge Trini to fill in the blanks.

“So.”

“Your mom?”

“Yup.”

“Trini…” Kimberly rolls her eyes in Trini’s direction and gives a light shake of her head. “You told your mom, you were with me?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“It’s not what you think,” Trini mumbles back in response as she stares up at the ceiling.

“And what do I think?”

“My mom thinks that you and Jason are dating.”

“What?” Kimberly blurts out with a burst of laughter. “Me and Jase?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would your mom--”

“Because she overheard it from one of her friends at church and I didn’t correct her.” Trini pushes herself up onto her elbows and runs her hands through her hair. She lets the silence creep back in between the two of them as she searches for the right words.

Are there even words to explain it?

God, how Trini wishes this wasn’t so painfully hard. That she could just freely talk about how her mother idolizes Kimberly. How that Kimberly is her vision of what a daughter show be like. Feminine. Popular. Straight… Or at least the outward illusion of being straight.

Everything that Trini is not.

“My mother’s cool with us hanging out cause she thinks you’ll rub off on me. That’s you’ll help me…” Trini trails off, not able to finish the rest of her thought. But she doesn’t need to…

The sympathetic look on Kimberly’s face says it all. She more than gets it.

“C’mon. Get up.” Kimberly grabs hold of Trini’s hand and playfully yanks her up off of the bed.

“Huh?”

“We’re going out.”

“Where?” Trini stumbles onto her feet, coming only mere inches away from Kimberly’s face.

Kimberly plants a quick but tender kiss on Trini’s lips and flashes an “all-knowing” smirk. “You’ll see.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“The mall? How original,” Trini muttered under her breath, unable to hide her underlying level of disdain for where they were.

It’s not that Trini doesn’t want to be spending her time with Kimberly. Hell, she’d move heaven and earth just to have one more second with that girl… her girl.

God, that sounds good. Her girl.

But is Kimberly really her girl? Is that what this is?

Kimberly hums in response as she leads the way, zig-zagging through the pockets of Saturday shoppers. She’s nothing short of a woman on a mission.

Trini trails a few steps behind, trying her best to mirror Kimberly’s moves, but can’t seem to help but bump into every single person in her path.

“Keep up, Grumpy,” Kimberly jokingly calls out over her shoulder.

Trini grumbles a few nondescript words in Spanish back and picks up her pace.

Trini’s torn. She doesn’t want to be disgruntled… especially when she knows that Kimberly has something up her sleeve, but it’s just that she can’t stand the mall.

No. That’s not a strong enough word. Trini fucking loathes the mall.

Why? Because the mall equals shopping. And shopping equals…

It equals the missing level of hell that’s solely reserved for Trini to suffer through.

There’s a part of Trini that can’t help but wonder if her deep seeded hatred of shopping comes from her mother. After years of painful trips to stores that only ever resulted in fights and impromptu lectures about how she should dress, she has learned that when it comes to shopping it’s best just to get in and get out as quickly as humanly possible. And, of course, grab the most generic, comfortable yet non-problem inducing items available.

Trini suddenly comes to a crashing halt, right smack dab into the back of Kimberly. She stumbles backwards, desperately attempting to regain her footing and hold onto the last few remaining shreds of coolness that she has.

“We’re here.” A coy smile slowly crawls across Kimberly’s face as she motions towards the store they are standing in front of.

Trini takes one look and is immediately hit with a wave of unexpected excitement.

How does Kimberly know?

Or is it just a random fluke? Some sort of weird, serendipitous, coincidence that happens every now and then in life.

Trini knows this store. This is the store that she secretly wants to venture into every time her mother drags her out to the mall. The one with killer, gender neutral button downs and vintage t-shirts galore. The one that she would shop in, if she didn’t have to perpetually worry about what everyone would think.

Trini tries to find her words, but can’t. All she can manage to do is stare back at Kimberly with a slight look of confusion mixed with happiness.

“If your mom wants me to rub off on you, than that’s exactly what I’m gonna to do.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“You alive in there?” Kimberly calls out from the other side of the dressing room door.

Trini lets out a light sigh and takes another look at herself in the mirror.

After a good thirty minutes or so of exploring every inch of the store and questioning Trini on what she really likes style wise, Kimberly had loaded her up with a wide array of button down shirts and skinny jeans to try on and sent her on a one way trip to the dressing room.

And now, Trini finds herself, alone in a tiny closet of a room, surrounded by a pile of strewn clothes, staring at someone that she vaguely recognizes yet wants nothing more to desperately be. She’s getting the first glimpse of her true self…

CLICK.

Trini whips around in a slight panic as dressing room door slowly creeps opens and Kimberly slips inside.

“You weren’t responding, so I…” Kimberly trails off, losing her ability to form words. Her eyes rake over every inch of Trini, fully taking her in.

“Sorry. I was just--”

But Trini doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.

Kimberly lunges forward with a sudden primal urge and attacks Trini’s lips with a fiery passionate kiss. She buries her hands, deep within Trini’s ombre locks, attempting to get a better angle.

After what seems to be a lifetime, Trini pulls back out of the kiss and takes a deep, sobering breath of air. Her trademark smirk emerges as she straighten herself up. “So, you like it?”

“Seriously?”

“Dunno. Think I need a second--”

Once again, Trini finds herself silenced by Kimberly’s lips.

Those lips. So freakin’ soft and supply. And somehow tastes like an addictive mixture of cherries and ice cream.

Trini wonders how on earth she has managed to survive so long without these lips upon her own.

Kimberly is the first to pull back from their kiss this time. She snakes her hands around Trini’s neck and with the greatest of ease, swoops Trini’s hair up into a messy ponytail. “One word. Hot.”

Trini can’t help but let a hint of laugh slip through at this confession. “Two words. I try.”

Kimberly takes a step back from Trini and gives her another once over as her teeth subconsciously sink into her bottom lip. There’s no doubt that there’s only one thought running through her mind at the moment… and it isn’t PG rated.

Trini could feel her heart start to swell, instantly doubling in size from the amount of pure love -- and lust -- radiating off of Kimberly.

Trini may not know what exactly they are, but there’s one thing that’s for certain… Kimberly Hart wants her.

“Let me take you on a date,” Trini blurts out, breaking the silence between the two of them.

“A date?”

“Yeah. Like a real one.”

“Okay. But one condition.”

“Condition?” Trini swallows thickly. She tries to remain calm, but her mind instantly swirls with thoughts fueled by self-doubt.

Kimberly inches close, takes hold of Trini’s button down shirt, and pulls Trini in for yet another searing kiss. “I get to pick your outfit. Deal?”

“Deal.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini camps out on a nearby mall bench, surrounded by a few shopping bags, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter feed while waiting for Kimberly to finish up shopping.

Once emerging from the dressing room, Trini and Kimberly had spent another twenty minutes or so, semi-arguing over who was going to pay for Trini’s new wardrobe. Kimberly was absolutely insistence that it was her treat, regardless of how much money it was.

And of course, Kimberly won out in the end because, like always, Trini can’t say no when it comes to her.

Trini glances up from her phone for a moment and spots--

Tommy Oliver.

Tommy casually hovers near the store entrance, trying to blend in with the crowd of shoppers. Although his back is towards Trini, it’s obvious that his sight is locked in on one thing and one thing only… Kimberly.

Trini slowly puts her phone down and straightens up a little bit as a very pronounced chill runs down her spine.

What the hell is Tommy Oliver doing here? And why is he stalking Kimberly?

Two questions that race through Trini’s mind at lightning speed.

Should she go over and say something?

Maybe he isn’t staring at Kimberly? Maybe, she just imagining--

Tommy turns around, momentarily locking his gaze onto Trini. Suddenly--

His eyes FLASH GREEN.

Trini jolts backwards in shock as Tommy up and disappears back into the steady stream human traffic. She sits there, in a stunned silence as her mind attempts to comprehend what she has just witnessed.

What the fuck?

#trimberly #trini x kimberly #trini #kimberly hart #power rangers #so fluffy #so gay

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hylian-high-five-blog · 7 years

Text

In Which Mass (Effect) Hysteria is Driving Me Insane -or- Why ME: Andromeda is the Best Game in the Series, IMHO.

“Hundreds of us worked for millions of hours to get this ready, then you spend two minutes on it and you start to tear it apart. Do you ever think before you type stuff? Why don’t you create an imaginary world! It’d probably be like Fresno or something.” ~ Floyd Petrowski, the Guild

Warning: A few minor spoilers ahead.

I’ve been trying my damndest to think of a clever way to start this rant, but nothing’s coming to me except a series of expletives directed at everyone who’s been viciously trashing Andromeda surrounding its release. I’ve never written a game review in my life, nor am I in any way an authority on... well, anything... but after all the nit-picking, whining and unrelenting insults I’ve read and heard over the past couple of weeks, I can’t take it anymore. I won’t just sit idly by and let one of my favorite creative teams be treated so unfairly by its supposed fan base without, at the very least, saying something.

After 60+ hours in Andromeda, three things are now very clear to me:

People are obviously not giving the game a fair chance. At all.

Gamers have become so painfully spoiled in recent years.

This is one of the best games I’ve ever played.

Let me be clear: There’s a big difference between making fun of a game’s flaws and tearing it (along with its creators) to shreds. Of course Andromeda is flawed! At one point during my first playthrough, I was talking to two Dracks. A few hours later, every conversation I had on the Tempest sounded like it was happening through my helmet. When I finished Hunting the Archon, the game just took it upon itself to log me out for no apparent reason. These things aren’t fun, but they’re all fixable problems that anyone who’s ever actually played a video game in the 21st century should know will likely be resolved with future patches. Am I the only one who remembers Fallout 4 in its first year? The PC version had more bugs than a bloatfly nest. Or... wait... do bloatflies have nests? Or are they more like dens? Probably nests. I’m getting off topic...

ME:Andromeda is a massive and breathtaking experiment in virtual space exploration and a poignant commentary on the importance of community (which makes the sheer volume of rage against it doubly ironic, I suppose). It brings back some of the most well-loved aspects of the first two Mass Effect games and stays true to the spirit of the alien races we’ve known and adored for years. The dialogue gets me teary-eyed at times, from both laughing and crying, and the bulk of the characters have all the depth and wit that I’ve come to expect from BioWare since they first became a part of my life. I think the game is rich, immersive, unique, silly, heartbreaking, intense and fun.

Granted, this is all just a matter of opinion, and we’re all entitled to ours. But gah, every bad review I read of the game makes me more and more angry because the opinions being expressed in a lot of them just seem... needless. “The female characters are all ugly.” Have you actually seen Suvi? Were you sleeping during the character creation process? More importantly, are you under the impression that BioWare takes every single person’s individual taste in women into account when they create their games? “The story is unoriginal.” Yeah, these days, you just can’t turn a corner without running into a story about a civilization - part of which is led by twins whose father was an AI wizard - migrating to a new galaxy in search of a golden world only to be thwarted by alien creatures who absorb their genes. *sarcasm face*

Oh! And my personal favorites: “The explorable worlds are too empty,” and “There aren’t enough worlds to explore.” Firstly, we’ve all seen what happens when you have an unlimited amount of worlds to explore (thank you, No Man’s Sky). Secondly, what do you expect to find on the planets of a game whose entire premise is that you’re COLONIZING UNINHABITABLE WORLDS? Did you think you were going to land on Eos and find a bunch of huge villages filled with hundreds of people powering through radiation poisoning? Did you think there’d be a string of shopping malls dotting the Voeld landscape? I just don’t understand why anyone would complain about the openness of the planets unless they know nothing about planets or environmental disasters. Besides, there’s so much to do on each one and every inch feels lush and handcrafted with care, which is more than I can say for a lot of game worlds.

Anyway, I’m getting worked up again, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying once more that I love ME:Andromeda. The combat is unforgiving in the best sense, the entire crew of the Tempest is endlessly lovable, multi-player mode is surprisingly addictive, the weapons customization is epic, it’s got a great sense of humor, the worlds are gorgeous, the slow-crawl of the stories makes for a thoroughly rewarding experience... and even if it didn’t have all the above going for it, being seduced by Jaal was, for me, worth the $60 alone.

Regardless of what is or isn’t wrong with it, BioWare obviously worked hard on this game and that should count for something. What more do you people want? I realize this sounds ironic coming from me, but calm. the hell. down.

Olivia Ryder out.

#mass effect #andromeda #me:andromeda #i have no idea if anyone will read this #i do feel better now #and on that note i go back to the tempest #personal

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theaudioglow · 4 years

Text

Underwater Club Thump in a Gay Egyptian Nightclub: The Sounds of Lady Gaga's Chromatica

Reading Time: One cold beer.

I crawled on hands and knees through pages of new releases to find that perfect first album to review AKA judge without mercy. Upon hearing that The Killers delayed what will surely be an epic sonic sheen of Brandon Flowers ejaculating charisma, I figured I would have to just go with something obscure and under-the-radar. And that’s exactly what led me to the new Lady Gaga album. Obscure and under-the-radar.

This is how we’re going to do this. Since The Audio Glow is so edgy and unique, we won’t listen to the album first, then craft a careful narrative around a central theme of thoughts. There will be no prior research. I’m simply going to douse my body in pink sequins and write what it evokes as I listen…

Sound good?

*A STAR IS BORN SPOILER* Now, let’s just hope by the end of this album, Bradley Cooper hasn’t hung himself again.

Headphones In. Commence Lady Gaga’s Chromatica.

Track 1 – Chromatica I

Feel like I’m at the Oscars right now. So symphonic. Is this Lady Gaga on Ice? Climactic intro – this is Lady Gaga clearing her throat with an orchestra.

Track 2 – Alice

And we glide right into Alice. I already want to fall down a flight of European stairs into a basement club soaked in blue aura. Definitely a late 90s synth vibe creeping about here. This is like the 2020 version of Rhythm is a Dancer. That was honestly sheer power. Between her always declarative voice and the booming euro-synth – alright, what’s next, Gaga?

Track 3 – Stupid Love

Mmm love me some stupid love. As long as it doesn’t end in the pregnancy thing. Pulsating and urgent. Not my stupid love – the song. Sounds like the anthem that would play during the skate-off scene of a Disney middle school rollerblading competition movie: Oh no, there’s Zach watching from the bleachers in his Billabong shorts! And mom! And my always disapproving vanilla dad who showed up to see what this rollerblading dance thing is all about and is begrudgingly entertained!

I watched the Stupid Love video after hearing the album and the exact way to describe it is Mad Max: Fury Road meets Empire of the Sun. Really pretty generic for a Gaga joint.

Tell me Gaga and Luke Steele of Empire of the Sun don’t use the same eye paint artist.

Track 4 – Rain On Me (with Ariana Grande)

Two powerhouses on the same track. I wish I could ponder whether this song was an innocent take on the rejuvenating qualities of rain or a deluge of liquid innuendo, but the video’s been out for two weeks already. If you go by that, it’s about being able to cry in gothic glam outfits with a dance crew.

The beat is infectious – that’s what you get when you mix a Pop Overlord with the candy apple that is Ariana Grande. I appreciate the underwater swirls of euphoric resonance which ride under the track. Another reason why this song’s already a quarantine banger in your mom’s 2018 Kia Sportage with the bass turned up: the production is so tight. Obviously, with an album as obscure and indie lo-fi as a Gaga joint, I did not expect this level of gloss.

Track 5 – Free Woman

“I walk the downtown, hear my sound.” Nice line. Already loving that firm, strong beat with the currents of electricity reverberating off her voice. Notice all these songs so far are almost exactly three minutes. There were probably like, 27 producers working to cut these tracks just right (as would be typical of an indie garage pop album), but it’s noticeable how focused she is on pumping out straight dance snack tracks.

Unless I’m mistaken, Lady’s Gaga’s empowered yell of “I’m a free woman” leads me to believe this song is probably not about submitting to a man and cooking him casseroles.

Track 6 – Fun Tonight

This song is already primed to be the seventh song in a two-hour set in front of 70,000 fans with glowsticks. Sparser, simpler beat than some of the previous tracks. Leaning more into her pop element versus the euro/club vibes from the first few. What’s the theme here? Declarative. Power. Leaning into the night.

Track 7 – Chromatica II

The symphony has returned. The Lady Gaga lets the orchestra take over so she may chug a bottle of glitter water.

Track 8 – 911

Lady Gaga feeling dangerous. This beat is like seven women in leather stride confidently into the room and demand to see the DJ. On a serious note, this song is completely about Lady Gaga’s use of anti-psychotic medication and her battles against herself. Gaga’s been a moon goddess of the stage for what, 13 years now? She still effortlessly melds her struggle into dance tracks that sound like a dominatrix standing on top of a moving train. If I were a guy who had a site that was, say, into analyzing sounds and emotions, I’d observe that the power of her sound is her way of saying “I claim who I am through the sheer authority of these beats – I own myself”.

Track 9 – Plastic Doll

Ah, hell yes, Guh-ga. This beat is like a cryogenically frozen robot awakens and learns human emotion on the dance floor. Ironically, it sounds like a meta take on her own image as a caricature of a pop star. But it’s ambiguous if she’s talking about society judging her or a man. “No, I’m not your plastic doll.”

Track 10 – Sour Candy (with BLACKPINK)

Bringing in that freaky vibraphone. This is what I was waiting for, Gaga. Show me that freak stuff. I take that back – I came into this album with an open heart and clean mind…. No, I stand by it. I was looking forward to the freak stuff.

That vibraphone beat is what all dictators should listen to before making a bad decision. “Sir, don’t bomb that village – please listen to the Gaga first.” I guarantee more dictators doused in Gaga vibraphone glitter beats is better for the world.

Track 11 – Enigma

Opening with those subtle swirls of layered resonance. And her voice rises to that declaration of power again: “We could be lovers”. I know I’m heaping a lot of positive energy towards the album, but this song sounds like a generic euro-pop track. Thankfully for the Gaga, her voice carries and it will be fine for future mall background music.

Track 12 – Replay

Gotta praise those intro swirls of euphoric production for the 77th time. Just subtle ripples, and then they let the beat and Gaga carry the rest of the song. Just enough neon phosphorescence to classify the sound as Club over Pop. “Replay” and “911” have the heaviest Club thump-thump.

Track 13 – Chromatica III

It’s hard to commentate on a 27 second song, but…it drifts right into a song with Elton John. Like I said, no prior research! Of course, she needed a cinematic buildup into a duet with Elton John.

Track 14 – Sine From Above (with Elton John)

Oh my goodness, that trance beat break-in at 1:27. I’m gonna keep laying in this song like a puddle of melty starglow, but definitely check out the lyrics. Appreciation is deserved.

Wow. Most powerful on the whole album. I must replay. I listen to August Burns Red in the shower and I’m putting a Gaga song on repeat. I so strongly empathize with songs about holding on to your life, especially one with beats that sound birthed from an underwater gay Egyptian nightclub.

So impressed.

Track 15 – 1000 Doves

Is there really anything else after Sine From Above? Having another powerhouse dance track is like trying to have sex again 15 seconds after having sex. No way this works.

Yeah, I’m spaced. Can we listen to Sine From Above again?

Track 16 – Babylon

Yes, jungle sounds! Please be more Gaga freak stuff. Okay, here we go. This is more of that Gaga-dancing-on-a-giant-pink-penis melded with a…saxophone? 90s dance-jungle-saxophone vibes. Last song on the album, and Gaga wanted to swag out with some dance fluff jungle-saxophone-Egyptian party vibes. I dig.

That’s it. Lady Gaga’s Chromatica. Yeah, I know it was a 1,400 word review – get off my back, peasant!

The Audio Glow’s rating for Chromatica: seven confident dominatrix women dancing in an underwater gay Egyptian nightclub….

that means it’s really good!

Artist Links:

Gaga’s Insta

Gaga’s website

Upcoming Lady Gaga shows:

July 24th, 2020 — Paris July 30th, 2020 — London August 5th, 2020 — Boston August 9th, 2020 — Toronto August 14th, 2020 — Chicago August 19th, 2020 — New Jersey

#lady gaga #new releases #self-empowerment #club music #pop #rain on me #album playlist #electro #dance pop

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philosophicalnutcase · 5 years

Text

The Obsidian Sword pt. 1

The premise of this story is that it is about a young lady who is assigned the task of defeating a long forgotten evil. Now you may think this tale to be cliche, or in no way out of the ordinary…

But to be fully honest with you guys this is literally just some wack dream I had about me being this girl who for some reason was travelling with some old dude who constantly spoke in a prophecy-esque format. That and Gimli from lord of the rings was there too, that and what I think was some fairy girl… but she really didn't say or do much except linger around and go along with what gimli did.

So most of this will be me filling in the story, the major events and such came from my dream.

I woke up in the back of a van, not exactly where I thought a night at coachella would lead me, but at least I still have both my kidneys. It was littered with a general grime, some wrappers, and a medium sized teddy bear (who was missing an eye). Now while there wasn’t too much filth, I do want to mention that it smells heavily of what I could only assume to be something organic. Now I’m no hoe, but this smell is not one you would find in savoury places. It’s just, you know… that stuff. Ok ok I’m just going out of my way here and admit this place smells like feces.

But now the question is, where in the name of ragnaros is this van? It was silent, so I assumed we weren’t moving anywhere at the moment. I got up and pulled the door handle, I was relieved when it opened. The sun was out, we were parked on the top of what looked like an abandoned parking lot stack… y’know like those one you park at when you are going to the mall, with multiple floors. Outside there was a tent with a campfire. It reminded me of something you’d make in fallout, only a lot less intriguing and way more smelly. I could see the elevator entrance to the right, but from the condition of the lot, I assumed it was out of order.

The tent covers shuffled, some ancient looking man emerged, he grabbed his overly cliche cane and started hobbling over to me. I was both confused and disgusted. His hair was matted beyond belief, and had lice visibly crawling around his head. His clothing was the least disgusting, he had a tattered cloak with an ACDC t-shirt and holey jeans.

“Greetings young lady!” he wheezed out.

Mildly intimidated, I replied… “Uh… hi. Where exactly are we?”

“Why this is no more than the greatest kingdom around... Banterlotte!”

“Wait… your joking right? What epic obsessed nerd names their kingdom banterlotte?”

“Uh… no one is sure, it kind of just came to be what everyone calls it now.” he answered

This guy was starting to get annoying, but I’m a sucker for a good story, so I asked him about the lore in your typical dark souls fashion. Hoping some big monster would come by and kill him halfway through.

“So what’s like… the story behind this land?”

“I’M GLAD YOU ASKED!”

“Ya, I’m sure you are…ya wack ass hag”

“Pardon?” he squacked

“Uh, nothing…go on...”

“Of course, yes… let’s see…” he scratched his head. “Ah yes, ok I’m ready. Once upon a time there was a fair land untamed by man-”

“Kind of cliche but ok…”

He gave me a glare, then continued. “This land was free of control, and was full of LIFE, -that’s mostly because of the rodents- but you get the idea.”

I interrupted with this “Wait, lemme guess… everything was gucci up until some random dark spirit came over the land and turned it all nasty, then some hero killed him and lived the rest of his days in a happy kingdom fucking his brains out in his big ass castle.”

“THERE IS NO NEED TO INSULT OUR FAIR KING LIKE THAT!” he shouted at me.

“Well yea, but am I wrong?” I replied.

He grumbled a little then muttered this “Well no, but you did ruin my story…”

such a fair ma

“Yea yea buddy I gotcha, now how do I go home…”

“Home? Nonsense, this is your home now!” he replied, suddenly all happy again.

“Okay, look… I like fantasy, but at the end of the day I just want to go home and sleep my day off… and last I checked, fantasyland doesn’t have Coffee or the internet... I’m just living life to have a blast and get shit faced.”

“Ah, I see…” He then scribbled something on a parchment. “Well then that changes things… Enjoy your stay in Banterlotte…” He snapped his fingers, and all of his camping equipment packed itself up into a small briefcase. “I can’t say I’ll be seeing you around!”

I soon realized that I was in no way capable of magic, which is the only way I could return home… I think. I don’t make the rules here in fantasy world, so I guess I better suck up to the hobo wizard… (not in that way you nasty minded fool). “Hey wait up!” I called. He looked back to see me running down the dirt hill, tripping halfway and rolling down the rest. “Well someone had a change of behavior fast…?” He cackled. “Tends to happen when the only guy who can return you home is abandoning you…”

We both walked down the trail, I wasn’t sure where we're headed, everytime I asked the wizard just said “Don’t worry about it, we’ll be there soon, you’ll know then.” I kind of just assumed it was some king that he would take me to so I could accept a quest to kill some guy, like in skyrim… wait am I like, the dragonborn?... sick.

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And so the story ends for now, we will get to hear more of this young girls adventure as soon as I write more.

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