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moonlit-stay · 1 year

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(SKZ-REPLAY Edition)

This is me writing out my thoughts of each song as I'm listening to them.

Feel free to ignore this😂

FAM (Korean Ver.) thoughts:

OK, FIRST AND FOREMOST

I HAVE BEEN HOPING AND PRAYING THAT WE WOULD GET A KOREAN VERSION OF THIS SONG SINCE THE JAPANESE VERSION WAS RELEASED

NOW THAT I HAVE IT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO ACT

IT HITS DIFFERENT BRO I DON'T KNOW

BRO I AM SO HAPPY I CAN'T EXPLAIN

I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS BRO I CANNOT

I JUST SAW THE NOTIFICATION FOR THE MUSIC VIDEO AND CHOKED??????

GOODBYE SEE Y'ALL IN HELL

Connected (Bang Chan) thoughts:

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

I AM NOT READY BRO WAIT

AHHHH WHAT THE FUCK

WNAT THE FUCKING FUCK

MY BRAIN CANNOT PROCESS WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

I LOVE THISB SISNG SO FUCKING MUCH SI CANNTKEB

Limbo (Lee Know) thoughts:

I AM NOT READY BRO HELP ME

GPODBYE HIS VOICE IS SO FUCKIMG ANGELIC I AM GONNA SOB

OH MY GODDDDDD

THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING

BITING MY FUCKING FIST I CANNOT DEAL

THIS SONG FEELS LIKE A HUG FROM A LOVED ONE YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IN FOREVER TO ME

DOODLE (Changbin) thoughts:

WHAT THE FUCK

I SCREAMED BRO WHAT THE FUCK

THIS SOUNDS LIOE A SONG YOU AHOULD 100% STRUT YOUR SHIT TO

MY GOD HIS FUCKIMG VOUCE IS SO FUCKING COOL

THE POWER???????? HELLO??????

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOO BITCJ WJAT THE FUCK??????

OH MY FUCKING GOD BRO NOTHIMG COULD HAVE PREPATED ME

Love Untold (Hyunjin) thoughts:

I'M SO EXCITED

OH MY FUCKIGN GOD BRO WHAT THRF UXIK

WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS SOUND FROM JINNIE BUT HE PULLS IT OFF SO WELL

THE TITLE IS SO FITTING FOR SOMETHING HYUNJIN WOULD RELEASE

I AM EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE

THIS IS AO BEAUTIFUL I COULD SOB DAY IN AND DAY OUT ABOUT THIS

RUN (HAN) thoughts:

OH SHIT

I LOVE THIS

OH MY GODDDDD

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OH MY GOD

THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY BRO WHAT

MUSICAL GENIUS HAN JISUNG

I AM IN AWE I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH

OH MY GODDDD BRO I CANNOT EXPRESS MY LOVE FOR THIS SONG IT'S AMAZING

Deep end (Felix) thoughts:

I AM NOT READY

I AM NOT PREPARED

HELP HELP HELP HELP

VOCAL LIX YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

THE WAY I GASPED OH MY GOD

THE FUCKING HIGH NOTES??????? HELLO??????

I AM TEARY EYED BRO HELP ME

SOBBING DUDE

Stars and Raindrops (Seungmin) thoughts:

THE TITLE IS SO BEAUTIFUL BRO

UNIVERSES VOCALIST YESSSSSSSS

I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF HEARING THIS MAN'S VOICE EVER IN MY LIFE

HE WAS MADE FOR THIS DUDE ARE YOU HEARING THIS??????

THIS SONG IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS HE IS????? WHAT THE HELL???????

I AM GONNA FUCKIMG BALL MY WYES OUT

Hug Me (I.N) thoughts:

OH MY GOD

OH MY GODDDDDDD BRO

THIS FITS HIS VIBE SO WELL I AM IN LOVE

SPRINTING, LEAPING, CATAPULTING TO GIVE YOU A HUG BABY

HIS VOICE IS SO PRETTY I AM IN SHAMBLES

SO SO PRETTY DUDE I CANNOT

#LoveSTAY thoughts:

Listen, I've heard this song so many times and I cry every single time I hear it.

This time is no different.

I will never be emotionally ok after hearing this. They love us so much it hurts me to my core.

I have truly never felt so loved before.

I love the eight of them so much. I will never be able to fully express it.

ZONE thoughts:

FUCKKKKKKKKK BRO

I HAVEN'T RECOVERED FROM LOVESTAY GIMME A SECOND

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

EVERUTJING ABIUT TJIA IS SO ATTRACTIVE????

I CANNOT FUCKING DEALLLLLL

3RACHA KING SHIT BITCH BYE

FUCKING HELL THE VERSES BRO I AM ON THE FUCKIN FLOOR

Close thoughts:

CLOSE, MY LOVE

MY GOD I STILL LISTEN TO THIS ALL THE TIME ON YOUTUBE BRO

THIS SONG MAKES ME CRY 50% OF THE TIME

MY GOD HE REALLY IS A MUSICAL GENIUS

ARGUE WITH THE WALL

I CAN REALLY JUST LISTEN TO THIS WHENEVER NOW BRO I AM SO HAPPY

Streetlight thoughts:

QUEEN STREETLIGHT OH MY GODDDD

CHANGBIN MUSICAL GENIUS

SO MUCH LOVE FOR THIS SONG

I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF THIS SONG. NEVER BRO

Y'ALL REMEMBER WHEN THIS WAS FIRST RELEASED AND HAD THE ENTIRE FANDOM IN SHAMBLES????

God, I forget just how beautiful this song is

I hate to admit thoughts:

This one will forever hurt a bit, honestly.

Especially given the time it was released.

Also, the lyrics? I'm sobbing.

His voice is just astonishing. I could listen to him sing forever and ever.

I GOT IT thoughts:

TIME TO SHAKE SOME ASSSSSSSSSSS

GOD DAMN IT

BRO, PEOPLE DIED LISTENING TO THIS

THIS WILL FOREVER BE HOT DUDE BYE

HE WAS SO HOT FOR THIS MY GODDDD

I COULD LISTEN TO THIS NON STOP FOR DAYS BRO I'M NOT KIDDING

miss you thoughts:

NOOOOOOOOOOO

BRO, MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE ANYMORE CRYING

I sobbed to this song repeatedly when Hyunjin was on hiatus. This one hurts.

My god, it's so beautiful tho.

So, so beautiful.

There's truly nothing this man can't do.

This song also strangely makes me feel at peace? Even tho it also makes me cry??

Maknae On Top thoughts:

TIME TO SHAKE SOME MORE ASSSSSS

OH MY GOD BRO THIS FEELS SURREAL

NO MORE LOOPING YOUTUBE VIDEOS BRO

THIS FEELS LIKE A FEVER DREAM

YESSSSSSSSSS OH MY GODDDD

SO FUCKING HAPPY BRO THIS IS INSANE

Alien thoughts:

ALIEN LOVE OF MY LIFE

BRO?? A MUSICAL GENIUS SHUT UP

I AM TELLING YOU THERE IS NOTHING HE CANNOT DO

Close, Alien, HaPpY, and Wish You Back are the true loves of my life and I would kill for them without question.

HIS VOCAL RANGE IS FUCKING INSANE

Because thoughts:

MY HEART CANNOT HANDLE ANYMORE TEARS, BRO PLEASE

I cried listening to this for hours when it first came out.

Lix uses this in his sunshine vlogs :((((

This duo will forever be one of the best in terms of vocal combinations. Do y'all hear this??

The harmonies???? I'm on the floor.

Piece of a Puzzle thoughts:

Oh my god

This song, dude

It's so beautiful. I love it with my whole heart.

What a fucking combination these two are.

I'm still in awe of this song. I truly am.

Wish You Back thoughts:

I have spent so, so, so many hours sobbing to this song.

I love it so much and it truly holds such a special place in my heart.

I will forever think of Jinnie when I listen to this song. Especially after seeing them perform it together.

HaPpY thoughts:

I've cried a lot to this song as well.

A lot of Han's songs have a way of comforting me when I'm at my lowest and I will be forever grateful for that.

So much love for this man and all of his songs.

Up All Night thoughts:

AHHHHH

I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH DUDE

I CAN AND WILL BUST A MOVE TO THIS SONG

GET INTO IT BINNIEEEEEE

I will be rewatching the video for this in a bit

Drive thoughts:

WOOOO

THE SONG THAT IS DEFINITELY ABOUT DRIVING THAT LEE KNOW DEFINITELY WROTE ALL BY HIMSELF

This entire song will always have me in a chokehold, but Chan's verses??

I'm in a coffin, bro goodBYE.

ice.cream thoughts:

LOVE OF MY LIFE OH MY GOD

I LISTEN TO THIS SONG ALL THE TIME

I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT SO MUCH

Can we talk about the beauty of this song please? It's stunning.

Final thoughts:

As always, I'm amazed. I mean that wholeheartedly.

I hope they will continue to release SKZ-Players and SKZ-Records even though this has been released.

This entire album just further proves that Stray Kids consists of eight musical geniuses who truly have no limits to their creativity.

Once again, I am so very proud to be a STAY.

#moonlit stay's random tings #stray kids thirst #moon's music thoughts <8

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queenofbaws · 4 years

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UD/MoM: Of Mummy Men & Bathtub Soup - 3

Chapter: 3/? Chapter title: What goes bump in the night Fic rating: T - Language, blood, light comedic body horror Chapter summary: Conrad has a plan. Author’s note: Reminder - this is also on AO3, where the texting actually looks like, uh...texting! Previous | Next ---

Driving with the CREEPs had been absolutely out of the question. Full stop. Period. End of sentence. Number one: He wasn’t about to get into that Mystery Mobile of Hartley’s, the second- or maybe even thirdhand piece of shit minivan that screamed of playdates gone by—no thanks. Number two: If he was gonna be spending the night with these dorks, he needed to squeeze in as much Conrad-time as possible before those floodgates opened. Number three (and this was probably the real heart of the matter): He knew he wouldn’t’ve been able to control his face as they zipped by Alex and JJ’s place.

Nope. Could not. In fact, even as he drove by it, all by his lonesome, he couldn’t help the way his eyes stuck to it, making his head turn until it was out of view again.

Their mom was out of her goddamn mind, calling that place a—wait, what had she called it again? A drafty…rickety thing? Some garbage like that. If that was her idea of drafty and rickety, by God he didn’t want to know what she’d think of his apartment in The Willows. She might actually go full fainting-couch on him, ‘Fetch the smelling salts!’ and all that jazz. But here? He hadn’t been lying when he told the nerds that this was where the rich SOBs had decided to set up shop; as a rich SOB himself, he felt especially qualified in his assessment that if even one of these suburban monstrosities didn’t have an in-ground pool in the back, it was only because the owners had filled it in to start the process of paving their own tennis court.

He jammed his turn signal on the second the understated-but-sophisticated (Mom’s words, not his) realty sign planted in the front yard caught his eye, slowing his roll so his ectoplasmic entourage would get the picture.

“Heeere we go…” Conrad muttered under his breath as his car smoothly glided into the driveway. He went to kill the engine, realizing with a snicker that he’d been humming the Ghostbusters theme to himself. “Oooh Jesus…oh God help us all, it’s contagious.” That got another laugh out of him—more of a snort, really—and count that as number four on his list of reasons why he was glad he hadn’t shown up to this song and dance with the creepazoids.

His eyes flicked to the rearview and he watched them begin the no doubt arduous task of maneuvering the minivan into the driveway in reverse, and while that might’ve been its own kind of entertainment, he had a good fucking feeling he’d be getting more than his fair share of Schadenfreude out of them tonight. Instead of watching, then, he unhooked his phone from its dock on his dashboard, unbuckling his seatbelt and sinking lower into that plush, buttery leather seating as he checked his texts.

JJ: Did you touch any of my stuff the last time you were here????????? JJ: Hello? JJ: Hellooooooooooooo????? Conrad: Omg why would I take any of your stuff? JJ: Because you’re a little sneak thief who doesn’t know how to keep his hands TO HIMSELF! Conrad: Now slow your roll there princess Conrad: What’s missing? JJ: My favorite bracelet Conrad: What, the black and silver one? JJ: OBVIOUSLY that one!!!

He reached down to the cup holder in his center console, popping the lid off his water bottle before bringing it to his mouth to take a drink, all the while pretending he didn’t see the lovely bracelet tucked away in the second divot. Was it black and silver? Hmm. Hard to tell, hard to tell…maybe if the person viewing it perhaps…squinted a certain way, or tilted their head to the side…or just kinda…looked at it.

Conrad: Oh man that sucks Conrad: Haven’t seen it though JJ: Uh huh JJ: Just like you haven’t seen any of the other stuff that’s gone missing around here JJ: SNEAK THIEF!!!!! Conrad: Look under the bed, lost shit always ends up under the bed Conrad: It’s like…a law of physics or some shit

Ah, but Julia wasn’t the reason he’d checked his texts. Don’t get it twisted—her being snippy about her stupid bracelet was fan-fucking-tastic because it told him without really telling him that she hadn’t noticed his car drifting through her neighborhood like a shark cruising for a school of sardines—but nonono, see, there was a different message he’d been hoping for.

Fliss: It’s due the Tuesday before break, I just checked. Conrad: Cool cool cool, all the time in the world then Conrad: So you got any fun weekend plans? Conrad: All work and no play yadda yadda

He sucked his teeth at the lack of response. Now, true, getting her number had been, oh, chef’s kiss, fantastic, but it seemed the charm boomerang hadn’t hit yet, huh? It was probably still whizzing its way through the air, just thuppita-thuppita-thuppita, zeroing in on its target like one of Cupid’s arrows. It would get there! Oooh, it would get there! It just…

Well, it hadn’t quite gotten there!

Yet.

His thumbs hovered over his phone’s keyboard as he thought of something witty to say, something that wouldn’t come off as skeevy or desperate or—

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!

“Jesus fucking Chr—” There was a pathetic noise as his phone tumbled out of his hands, half-fumbled, half-flung, and he dropped both of his hands onto his thighs, shaking his head and staring straight through his windshield as Washington continued to pound on the window only inches from his head.

Regardless of what they found (or didn’t find) in that stupid house, there’d be a haunting by the end of the night, all right. He was going to kill him.

He blinked once, twice, and then let his eyes roll towards the window. When Wash met his gaze, still knocking of course, Conrad pressed the back of his own hand to the glass, slowly raising his middle finger. It got him to stop knocking, but man alive it started him off guffawing like a goddamn goon, and honestly? Not a whole lot better.

Grumbling, he bent down to search the footwell for his phone, grabbing it up before jerkily opening the door, managing to get in a good, solid thwack to Wash’s side. “Insufferable, that’s what you are. In-fucking-sufferable.”

“Baby’s first five-syllable word! Color me impressed.” Asshattery or not, he hadn’t been raised in a barn, that Josh Washington—he offered one of his fists and Conrad knocked his knuckles against it, only sliiightly harder than friendly greetings usually called for. “Gotta hand it to you, Bishop…I was kinda expecting we were gonna pull up to nothing short of Grandma’s house, doilies in the windows and everything. This, uh…” he paused just long enough to cast a judgmental look about the property, “…this is not that.”

“Pretty sick, right?” He locked his car and slid his phone into his back pocket, glancing over his shoulder for only a moment to watch the rest of the geek squad struggle under the weight of unloading their equipment.

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Wash chuckled, jamming his hands into his pockets as he continued to look around. “You sure Mommy isn’t gonna get her panties all in a bunch over this? Us sneaking around and putting our grubby mitts on everything we see?”

“How about you save the snappy shit for the camera, how about that, man?”

Houses Washington and Bishop went back a ways, their storied meeting taking place right around the time Big Bob Washington himself had hit it big in the movie scene. Conrad was still a little fuzzy on the details of who, what, where, when, why, and how the blood pact or whatever had been formed (he had a suspicion it had something to do with investments or stock portfolios or some shit like that), but the moral of it all was the same: There hadn’t been a family holiday since as far back as he could remember that Josh wasn’t there, his lame-ass friends close in tow. His sisters too, but uh...well. Hmm.

Aaaaaanyway, it was for that reason that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would not keep the snappy shit for the camera. Wash was, in no uncertain terms, incapable of holding his lips together for more than thirty seconds at a time.

Except miracle of miracles, either someone upstairs had been listening or he was just real invested in putting on a good show for blondie, because their outdoor filming was carried out with the snark kept to a bare minimum.

It was magical, really, watching the change that came over those dorks when they were working on their stupid show. On the best of days—the absolute best—there were maybe two functioning brain cells between them, and even then, both of them were usually being used by Ash to memorize some sort of obscure literary trivia. But when it came to their pointless ghost hunting show, get out of the way! They moved like a well-oiled machine, setting cameras up for the best angles and shooting where the sunlight was best. It was almost impressive. Impressive in a decidedly pathetic way, sure, but like…impressive.

“So this is it, huh?” Sam asked as she joined him in front of the house, the others having already carted the king’s share of the equipment inside. “Crossing the threshold into Mummy Mansion. Well…definitely looks big enough to be hiding some ghoulies, I’ll give it that.”

He glanced up from his phone (and by extension the text thread he’d been trying to telepathically will Fliss to answer for the past twenty minutes or so). “Really wish you wouldn’t call it that,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket again as he resigned himself to just not getting an answer. “Seriously ruins the ambiance of the situation.”

Having reached his daily recommended intake of goodwill towards man, Wash piped in from right behind him, “And what ambiance would that be, exactly? Because, uh, the spookiest part of this shit is the three-car garage, my dude.”

“You know, I seem to recall you saying you were desperate for help finding locations for this flop of a—oh, whoop, okay then…” He took a step back as Sam, seemingly done with their conversation, took it upon herself to head inside and leave the two of them on the stoop.

“Is that how you remember it?” Washington droned, “Because I seem to recall you accosting us at a party and begging that we come to this dump with you.”

“Begging? Begging.” He scoffed as loudly and derisively as he was able to (which turned out to be both very loudly and very derisively). “First off, I don’t beg. Especially not the likes of you.”

He kept scanning the property and the surrounding development, pulling one of his hands out of the pocket of his sweatshirt just long enough to flap his hand in his general direction.

Conrad grabbed the hand puppet in question and twisted it until Wash pulled away, giving him a good parting smack in the process. If any of the neighbors had been watching, he had to figure it would’ve looked, uh, not all that different from the slap-fights they’d gotten into as kids. “Let me humor you—humor you. Explain to me what I’m getting out of this arrangement, okay? Because let’s be real here, sure seems to me like you guys are the ones benefiting from this arrangement…”

“Oh, you mean besides your whole ‘I need you guys to scare someone for me’ thing?” Josh asked in an insulting (if not unpleasantly decent) impression of Conrad’s voice. “You get to tag along and pretend like you have friends for a night, so—”

That earned him a harder smack, but he pulled away just in time. Trying not to sputter, his laughter turned indignant. “O-oh, I can pretend like I have fr—fuck you, asshole.”

“Call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

“Newsflash dickwad, people love me.”

Washington raised his eyebrows. He said nothing.

This house was getting a new ghost tonight, no fucking question.

“Know what? I…” he drawled, yanking the front door open, “…don’t have to stand here and take this from you.”

“Sounds like someone’s feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden.”

“This is why people hate psych majors, you get that, right? This? This moment right here? This is why everyone rolls their eyes in class when it’s icebreaker time and you go ‘Hi, I’m Josh, and I went into psych because I’m just really, really good at reading people.’”

“Awful lot of talk for someone whose feelings aren’t hurt.”

Oh, he just had to remind himself of the long con. This was a necessary evil, a building block for what was to come. This was the metaphorical five bucks he had to fork over to partake of the all-you-can-eat spooktacular later, so he could grin and bear it for now.

“I mean, I can’t blame you…it’s probably one hell of a treat to be able to surround yourself with people as compassionate and entertaining as we are, especially considering that rancid personality of yours.”

…yeah, he could grin and bear it for now, but he was absolutely murdering Wash later. With his bare hands. He was going to count how many different colors his face turned as he strangled the life out of him. His bet? Six.

He held his gaze for a moment longer, unwilling to so much as blink until he was inside the house. Then, to prove precisely how mature he was, he proceeded to slam the front door shut in his face, exhaling a relieved breath in the silence that followed. Conrad tugged his coat off and tossed it onto the stairs leading up from the entryway; the action felt unnaturally natural, if that made any sort of sense. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised…like, no duh it felt as though he was walking into Julia and Alex’s place—that was the whole point of this ordeal, wasn’t it? If the CREEPs got a solid feel for this place tonight, then it would be that much easier for the real job to be an in-and-out kinda deal later. Let them find the nooks and crannies to hide and hook up their fakey-fake bullshit now…reap the benefits later. A stellar plan on his part, really. Genius, almost.

A gust of wind blew his shirt hard against his back as Wash yanked the door back open, charging in with nary a sidelong glance his way. He did, however, manage to sneak in a horribly accurate backhand right under Conrad’s ribs, making him grunt and double over in surprise. “Hey, we’re starting in the basement, right?” he called up towards CREEP HQ, his mouth hooking into a smirk.

Leaning into view against the upstairs railing, something that looked suspiciously like an insulated lunchbox hanging from a strap on her shoulder, Ash offered up a smirk of her own. “That is where Conrad said we’d find our mummy, sooo…”

Long con or not, he was not about to stand here and get picked on by a bunch of AV Club nerds LARPing as Mystery Inc. “I didn’t say we’d find a mummy, I said someone already found a mummy!”

Half-pushing, half-shoving (at least until blondie joined them and Washington went back to being a dark, mysterious edgelord), they made their way down into the basement, walking carefully on the stairs. Everything in the house was well built, that wasn’t the issue, but without any carpeting or finish of any kind, the stairs felt a little…questionable. Rounded at the ends, maybe, and definitely, uh, made out of concrete. Or cement. Or both? Maybe both. Either way, they looked like they’d give you a hell of a bonk if you were unlucky enough to slip on them.

In his visits to the lovebirds’ nest, he couldn’t say he’d spent a whole lot of time in the basement. Like Julia and Mom had said during the dinner that started this whole fucking mess, the basements in this development were, uh…

Creepy! Creepy was the word. Hence the CREEPs.

“Yo, Conman,” Wash said, interrupting his surreptitious look around the place, “Your mom ever mention any of the previous owners using this place as a sex dungeon? Because let me tell you, I am…feeling that vibe.”

Ash’s disgust was palpable. “Josh, oh my God, could you not?”

“Could we get some lights down here maybe? I—” Both of the girls (and okay, maybe someone else, though they would remain nameless) gasped when Wash pulled the cord to the overhead light, plunging them into darkness. “Helpful,” Sam said flatly, “Mature. Professional.”

It wasn’t that he was afraid of the dark or anything like that—because he wasn’t—but he did not, under any circumstances or stretch of the imagination, trust these freaks out of eyeshot.

That didn’t turn out to be such a huge problem after all. As it turned out, the stairs weren’t the only janky part of the basement’s setup: something about the doorframe didn’t fit precisely right. It let a sliver of light from the entryway shine through, meaning once his eyes adjusted, he could see a bit more than he first thought. The Scooby Squad continued to act like buffoons, all of them bumping into each other in the dark until the recording light of Hartley’s camera popped on and Wash started rambling on about spirit boxes and communicating with the other side and blahdie, blahdie, blah.

Then one of them flipped something on and the world exploded into shrieking, ear-bleeding, brain-shattering static. That time he didn’t pretend—he jumped like a cat getting its tail stepped on, yowling just about as loudly. “Holy shitballs!”

For his part, Wash kept on his ghost host with the most bullshit, saying, calmly as could be, “Now, just to make sure none of what we’re saying affects what she’s hearing in the radio signals, she’s going to have these noise canceling headphones on…whenever she hears something from the box, she’ll call it out to us, right, Ash?”

In the silence that followed, Conrad blindly felt his way over towards Hartley, trying to position himself so he could get a halfway decent view of the camera’s display screen. Through it, he could see Wash and Ash, both perfectly eerie in the green light of night vision, their eyes made beady and black.

Another few seconds passed without Ash responding, and Sam cleared her throat from somewhere behind them. “Well. At least we know the headphones work.”

On the display, Wash paused, his forehead wrinkling. “Oh. Right. Uh. We’ll…fix that in post.”

Conrad couldn’t help but snort—and loudly, at that.

“Hey! Are you guys gonna leave me hanging the whole night?!” Ash snapped, way whinier than any tv psychic he’d ever seen. He could see her in the monitor, holding one side of the headphones away from her head, and even over the shrillness of her voice he could hear that awful static escaping from the headphones’ cup. “I’m already getting a headache! Can we get on this with? Puh-lease?”

He snorted again, quieter that second time, and began a slow circle around the main room of the basement. He made sure to keep the glowing square of Hartley’s display in his periphery to serve as a sort of buoy in case he got turned around in the dark. Was this what the others’ basement was set up like? He had to figure it was…like, if the rest of the house followed the same plan, then the basement would too, wouldn’t it? Stood to reason, at least.

Conrad walked along the back wall, skimming his hand along the exposed brick as he went, careful to test each of his steps before he put his full weight down. The floor was, much like the stairs, duh, made of cement or something like it, ancient dust crackling under the soles of his shoes as he walked. Whatever these people had used it for, he couldn’t say (hell, maybe Wash had a point with the whole sex dungeon thing, he could see it…), but the plan for the other house’s basement was to turn it into a gym.

Probably.

That sort of sounded right.

He hadn’t really been paying attention when JJ had started rambling about it.

Paying attention wasn’t really his thing.

As he walked, the CREEPs kept doing their stupid ghost stuff (“Is there anyone here with us? If there’s anyone—” “Sunday.” “Saturday, actually. You’re a little early, whoever you are! Do you have a name?” “Time. Go in. Apple.”), Hartley and blondie dark blobs behind the camera, Wash and Ash pale monstrosities in front of it. Whatever ‘spectral entity’ had taken it upon itself to control their spooky little radio…thing…clearly had a metric fuckton to say, though none of it seemed particularly helpful. Or, y’know, mummy-related.

For shits and giggles, he rapped his knuckles gently against the stretch of wall he was walking along, putting his ear close to try and hear for any sign of hollowness as Ash continued to spit out unrelated words.

“Stop. Open yard. Carpet.”

“Oh yeah,” Wash muttered at that. And oh, Conrad knew that tone. That was the temper-tantrum-on-the-horizon tone. Joshy-boy wasn’t all too pleased with the messages they were receiving from the Great Beyond. What a shocker. Like he expected lotto numbers or something. “Obviously. Carpet.”

“Oooh, maybe that means you should pull up all the carpeting. Maybe the mummy left a manifesto on the hardwood,” Sam offered, and though he couldn’t see her, he could hear the grin in her voice. It made him smile in turn.

Welly, well, well, well, he thought to himself, Guess I wasn’t too far off the mark when I said you’d sniff through his bullshit, was I, new girl? Know what? Good. Wash deserved a little pushback every now and then…he needed someone to remind him he wasn’t half as big as the britches he seemed to think he fit into. That twerp had had it too easy for too long.

Uh…other than the whole dead sisters thing.

A force of habit, Conrad shook himself out physically, flinging that line of thought right out of his head before it could catch like a hangnail. Instead of dwelling too hard on why it might be that the guy who’d lost both his sisters in the past year was suddenly so super obsessed with making contact with the dead, he made his way back towards their huddle, guided by the dim glow of Hartley’s camera.

“Ice,” Ash said, then again a moment later, “Ice?” And God help them all, that must’ve been the phrase that activated Hartley as a government sleeper cell or some shit because all at once he was singing the opening of that Vanilla Ice song, and that just would not stand. Someone had to put an end to that travesty.

“Let me try,” Conrad said, stepping out from the sidelines. He only had to feel around for a second or two before he made contact with Washington, shoving him out of frame to take his place.

“I’m sorry, is this your show?” he asked indignantly, nudging him right back.

Ah, but it was too late. Conrad looked up towards the dark ceiling, raising his voice until it filled the cavernous room. “Hey, uh, mummy man! Or…woman, I guess—the stories weren’t really clear on that front. Why won’t you let anyone live in this place, huh? Is it a territory thing? Or like…?”

“Okay, that’s it.” Warning? What warning? Before he could register what was happening, there was a pair of (pathetically scrawny) arms around his torso, jerking him out of the spotlight through sheer dumb luck. If he’d been paying attention to him, oh, there wouldn’t have been any chance of Wash getting the best of him like that, no sir, no ma’am. “This is why I said we didn’t want you coming, you fucking—”

He struggled against the impromptu bear hug…until his and everyone else’s attention was brought back to Ash. From that distance, the darkness only obscured the finer details of her face, so he could see the way she was half-hunched over, her hands pressing the headphones tightly to her ears; it was like she was trying to hear what was being said, or, probably more to the point given what he’d heard from the machine earlier, trying to keep up with what was being said.

“Answer me. Where? Cold call. Name. Help. Where? Answer me.” Something about the repetition, he was ashamed to say, brought a finger of chill running up and down his spine like a ghostly lover’s touch. “…gone.” With that, Ash whipped the headphones off of her head, holding them away from herself as though they were actually hurting her. “That’s it,” she said, the anxiety in her voice cranked to eleven, “I’m done. I am absolutely going to have a full-blown migraine in the morning.” She kept holding the damn things out, and like…

If no one else was going to take them…

Snatching them up from her, he shrugged, going to slide them over his own ears instead. ‘Going to’ being the operative phrase of course, as Wash made a grab for them immediately. A grab that missed. Conrad ducked out of his way just as Ash pulled the cord leading to the light, and the moment of confusion was the perfect excuse to put a few feet between the two of them. Once safely out of his reach, he put the headphones on, and…oh good Christ! The second the cushioned cups plunked over his ears, the rest of the world was swallowed up by dizzying radio static. Shit, did it need to be this fucking loud?! Did ghosts just whisper through this thing or what?!

“Oh shit!” he said at what he thought was probably a perfectly normal, non-shouting volume that no one could make fun of him for later, “This is so fucking loud! How do you guys do this?!” In front of him, the others’ mouths moved, but uh, if they thought he could hear them they were out of their goddamn minds.

Maybe they were still asking the spooky scary specters questions for him to answer. Eh, it was worth a try. Frowning, he really tuned into the random noises coming from the headphones.

“I think it just said ‘grapefruit?’” he said, shrugging as he looked their way. “It might’ve had more syllables though.”

And they all nodded, so something about that must’ve made sense to them.

Man, if this was all there was to ghost hunting, he couldn’t figure out why more people didn’t do it—this shit was easy peasy. Across from him, their mouths just kept moving, and maybe he wasn’t an expert in the field of paranormal activity or anything along those lines, but it seemed strange that they’d all be talking over each other like that. Wouldn’t that confuse the super-not-fake ghosts?

“It said ‘lamp?’ Maybe?” Another minute or so and he reached his limit: He had to take the fucking things off. Removing the headphones felt a lot like surfacing in a pool, like he’d entered a completely different atmosphere where the laws of sound were different. “Man, I get what you meant earlier…” he muttered, mostly to Ash, rubbing his ear with one hand and holding the headphones out to the group with the other, “My head’s fucking ringing, and—”

That was about the time he noticed they were laughing.

Hmm. Cool.

Great.

Fantastic, in fact.

“Okay, ha ha, what did I miss?” he asked, already suspecting he knew the answer.

Wash’s shit-eating grin told him all he needed to know about this particular reindeer game. “No idea what you could mean, my good man. Are you…are you accusing us of making fun of you while you couldn’t hear us?” He glanced from one of his friends to the next before assuming a perfectly punchable expression of insult, “Wow. Do you really think so little of me? Of us? Seriously, that says a lot about our friendship. Here I am, working for all these years to forge some kind of trust, some kind of bond, and you just assume—”

Oh yeah? Two could play at this game.

With a sniper’s precision he turned to Sam, lifting his eyebrows as he tipped his head down to her level. “Not for nothing, but you do realize that by choosing to regularly associate with this dickbag, you’re slowly but surely allowing yourself to get infected with…” he glanced up for only a second, flapping a dismissive hand in Wash’s direction, “…whatever’s going on over there, right?” He watched as her expression made the shift from one breed of amusement to another entirely, her head tilting to one side and her lips pursing into a sly smile.

Good.

Let the psych major deal with that.

“Did you have to sign some kind of waiver? ‘I hereby acknowledge my sense of humor, social standing, and sanity may be irreparably harmed in the process of joining Washington Pictures, Incorporated, etcetera etcetera ad infinitum?’ Something like that?”

She laughed, and oh he felt Washington roll his eyes. “Aw shoot…you know, it never even crossed my mind. I should probably look into that.”

Offering her both a sagely nod and the headphones, Conrad sighed, “You probably should.” When she didn’t take the god-awful headset out of his hand, he jiggled it temptingly. “But here, new girl, you wanna try and commune with the spirit world? I won’t lie to you…turns out it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Well, unless you’re super into grapefruit, I guess.”

Sam held his eyes for another beat, and he realized with a brief sinking in his gut that oh no. It wasn’t only Wash’s shit this one could sniff through. The thought brought him neither joy nor comfort. Eventually, though, she took the headphones from him, shaking her head as she said, “Okay, okay…but only so I can say I know what it’s like.” She paused before putting them over her ears, eyes moving to each of them in turn. “I swear to God,” she started, lowering her voice into a deathly serious register, “If any of you three decide it’s gonna be funny to sneak up on me while I’m doing this…”

“Hey, no fair!” Hartley said, actually sounding legitimately offended, “Why didn’t you include Ash in that?”

“Because Ashley isn’t an asshole.”

Conrad snickered…and then stopped. “Hey!”

It seemed Ash had recovered from her time speaking with the other side, lucky her. She stood between Hartley and Wash, arms folded, averting her eyes as she said, “She has a point,” juuust loud enough to be heard.

“Man, whatever. Fuck you guys,” he shot back breezily enough, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see if he’d missed anything important during all of that.

“Y’know, for someone who insisted on coming with us for this, you’re sure not…hey, are you even listeni…”

He was not, in fact, listening to Hartley. Not to say he couldn’t hear him—he could—but fuck if he was listening, because there, right there, bright and bold on his screen was what he’d been waiting for.

Fliss: Define “fun weekend plans.”

Fuck the CREEPs. They could handle a few minutes of chit-chat with Casper on their own…he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity.

Conrad: Define fun, huh? Conrad: Tall order…

That time her response was all but instantaneous, dispelling every last ounce of uncertainty he’d had that morning. The charm boomerang was coming around, all right…collision course, baby.

Fliss: Call me crazy but I can’t help the feeling you and I both have very different meanings for the word. Fliss: Just a hunch I have. Conrad: Fun…fun…hmm…how does one…describe fun Conrad: Oh you know…dinner, dancing, partaking of frosty amber liquids… Conrad: You ever do anything like that? Fliss: “Frosty amber liquids.” Conrad: That doesn’t sound like a yes OR a no to me, leading me to the conclusion that maybe you need to be introduced to the wonders of FUN Conrad: If you’re looking for a guide into the wide, wondrous world of ENTERTAINMENT and RELAXATION, I should let you know I am both ready and willing Fliss: Uh huh… Fliss: I’m sure you are. Conrad: Would it sweeten the deal if my offer came with a satisfaction guarantee? Fliss: This will surprise you I’m sure, Conrad, but… Fliss: No? Fliss: I’m not sure it would. Conrad: Well if you check the fine print

That was where his text ended.

It was not where he had intended for his text to end, but it was where it ended nonetheless.

See, that was when Sam began screaming bloody fucking murder.

His phone clattered to the floor as he jumped a mile out of his skin, something dark flying a yard or so past his face until it crashed against the wall (later, he’d realize it had been the headphones). Whirling around, he saw Ash drop to her knees in front of Sam who, at some point during the past few minutes, had ended up on the floor herself, her legs splayed out before pulling tight to her chest. Her face was white as a newly bleached sheet, her eyes taking up the better half of her face, and maybe it was just the dark, dank basement thing, or maybe it was all the ghost talk, but holy shit the sight of her had his own pulse going at about five hundred miles an hour.

“Which one of you did that?!” she snapped, glaring first at him, then Hartley, then Wash, her lower lip threatening to start wibble-wobbling at any second.

His many, many years as an older sibling had taught him that particular expression was not the look of someone you wanted to fuck with, but…whatever she was talking about, he sure hadn’t done it. So quietly, helpfully, he pointed a finger towards the most likely candidate.

“None of us—” Wash began…at least until he saw him pointing his way, “Oh fuck you dude, you’re not helping! Asshole. You okay, Sammy? You get spooked?”

She wasn’t smiling. The fear and indignation on her face was such that it was hard for him to remember what her smile had looked like in the first place. “Which. One. Of. You. Did. That?” she repeated, jaw grit tight, “Seriously, that wasn’t funny.”

“Really gonna need you to elaborate on the who-what-where. We stayed right here like good little boys and—”

She cut Washington off by pointing viciously towards the (probably broken) headphones on the ground. “That stupid thing,” Sam said slowly, “Said my name.”

And that was a little too PG13 horror-movie for him, thanks very much. Conrad bent down to scoop his phone off the ground, praising every deity he’d ever heard of, and a few he hadn’t, that his case had kept his screen from cracking. If anything supernatural had ever happened in that stupid basement, his unshattered screen was probably it. Two drops in one night? And it was still in one piece?! Oh, someone was looking out for him.

“Shit,” Hartley sighed as Conrad swiped his texts open again, typing an explanation-slash-reply to Fliss’s single accusatory question mark, “Guess mummy man’s picked his first victim.”

Mummy man!

Before he could forget, Conrad added the big MM to his silent list of thank yous, going so far as to pick a random wall and shoot it a quick finger-gun and a wink. Someone sure had his phone’s best interest at heart…might as well have been Schrodinger’s mummy.

…he caught himself actually entertaining that thought and froze, pulling in a deep breath before scrubbing at his face with his free hand. Oh, this was going to be a long fucking night. He knew this was going to happen…he was letting himself get infected by their weirdness! That had to stop. Effective immediately. If not sooner.

He watched as Ash and Hartley did their awkward flirting routine as they tried to fit the spirit box back in its case. When the social anxiety of witnessing that train wreck became too much, he turned to see how Sam and Wash were faring (not a whole lot better, just judging by the pout blondie was rocking)…and then an idea popped into his head.

He stopped mid-text, holding down the delete button until everything he’d typed up disappeared.

Conrad: How about this… Conrad: Three guesses what I’M doing for fun tonight Fliss: Hoo boy. Conrad: You get three whole guesses! Conrad: If you can’t get it, then you have to be my partner for that project due before break Conrad: Sound fair? Fliss: Uh huh. Fliss: Sure… Fliss: You’re forgetting a very important detail though. Conrad: ? Fliss: What do I win if I guess correctly?

He thought for a moment, absently clicking his tongue. Then, smirking:

Conrad: Fliss. If you can correctly guess how I’m spending my night… Conrad: Which you won’t, fair warning Conrad: Then you have my solemn oath Conrad: My word as a gentleman and a scholar Conrad: My promise Fliss: Oh God. Fliss: Forget I asked! Conrad: I will do the entire project FOR you Conrad: No ifs ands or buts

The little ‘…’ bubble appeared at the bottom of his screen. Disappeared. Popped up again. Disappeared again. He watched as it happened, knowing there was no way in hell she’d missed the obvious—that she was agreeing to work with him on that dumb sociology assignment either way—and simply hoped for the best.

After what felt like twenty years, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Fliss: As long as you understand you’re doing the annotated bibliography win or lose, then fine. Fliss: It’s a deal.

#man of medan #until dawn #queenie writes supermassive #ghost hunting au #my fanfiction #and so the idiocy continues

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