i need to practice my pixelling this is like my second attempt at it

Third Time Lucky

genre: fluff

word count: 6.1k

warnings: like one swear word, vague references to sex (nothing graphic)

extra tags: hooking up, getting together, the good ole


The guy’s laughter trails away as the flicker of recognition flits across his face. Dan slowly lifts his hands away from the man’s body, face slowly burning. The rain begins to flatten his hair against his scalp.

“You don’t happen to be, um,” he stumbles for words.

“Dan?” the man asks incredulously. “I mean, no, not me, but you – it was you, right? - You left a note saying your name was, um, Dan. And, um, I swear you look like him.”

“Uh,” Dan fiddles with his jacket zipper. “That’s me.”

“Oh.” he chuckles uncomfortably. “Right. Thank god. It might’ve been awkward if you weren’t.”

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Creepypasta #843: I Used To Play A Game Called Worryland. I Don’t Like To Play Video Games Anymore.

Length: Super long

Change is terrifying, especially when you’re young. For an eight year old boy like me, moving across the country was the biggest change imaginable. When you’re young, leaving the few friends that you’ve made behind feels like the end of the world. I don’t remember the move to Giliman very well, I just remember crying the whole way there.

My parents repeatedly tried to console me. They assured me that I’d make new friends, and that the town of Giliman had much better parks and open-spaces to play in. I refused to listen.

“Bryan, you’re going to love it in Giliman, I promise!” My dad was driving the moving truck we rented. 

“No. I hate Giliman. I want to go back to Springfield.” 

“Oh Bryan, I’m sure you’ll love it when we get there.” My mom echoed this sentiment. “Roger doesn’t seem to mind moving, does he Bryan?”

Of course my younger brother didn’t mind moving. He was four years old and was too young and dumb to understand what was happening. He just sat in his car seat next to me, playing with his little stuffed alligator toy.

“Ugghh. Mom, Roger doesn’t care because he’s still little! If he was my age, he’d want to go back to Springfield too!”

Roger protested the fact that I’d called him little, but quickly went back to playing with his toy. I continued to cry and moan for as much of the drive as I could.

The drive from Springfield to Giliman is around thirteen hours, so we didn’t arrive until it was almost midnight. Another moving truck had already dropped off our beds and moved them inside, so we could go to sleep when we arrived. As angry as I was about the move, I was happy to be able to sleep in my own bed, even if I would have preferred it to be in a different location.

I went to bed full of resentment and sadness, directed at my parents, of course. Knowing what I know now, I wish I’d appreciated them more. They tried so hard to make me happy. I wish I had been nicer to them, and complained less about the move. I wish I’d been a better son, while I still had the chance. When I think about the fall we moved to Giliman, I think of what could have been different. That horrible game ruined everything.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. I grew up in the 90’s. The year we moved was 1995, and like every other eight year old, I was infatuated with my Super Nintendo Entertainment System (which we called an SNES, as I’m sure everyone knows). I plugged more time into that gaming system then I’m proud to admit – it was truly my prized possession.

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the game cartridge that was plugged into the SNES across from my bed. For those of you that remember the Super Nintendo, you might remember that almost every game cartridge was exactly the same. They were all plastic, slate grey cartridges, with black or white stickers on the front.

But this one wasn’t. It was bright blue, and had a bright red sticker on the front. I didn’t recognize it – I’d never seen anything quite like it before. I was ecstatic, to say the least. I figured that my parents must have gotten me this game to make me feel better about the move. My reservations about the new house faded away the second I saw the game cartridge.

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The Essence of an Absence - Chapter One

Summary: Dan has a dumb crush on an oblivious best friend, a poetry blog and a boyfriend that doesn’t exist. (Dan also learns how to lie to Phil and can’t tell when to stop.)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: poems written by me so ??? and this was written to clear severe writers block so i wrote in a style i’d like to call confusing and mediocre but generally ??? (ao3 link)


A benign tempest dwells deep in the fissures of my palms, 

Showing my burning shadow how to get home,
Kissing away the gaping void in my mind,
Caressing my tender bones

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