Santa's Wish

"Here you go, Brent. An early present from me. And be sure you stay on my nice list."

"What do you say to Santa?"

"T-thank you..."

"Hohoho! The pleasure's all mine. Have a very merry Christmas!"

Brent and his mother slipped away through the back of the grotto, Santa waving them off with a beaming smile. As the door closed, he slumped in his seat and dragged his hands down his face with an elongated groan. "Just one more week, Scott," he grumbled to himself. "One more week and you won't have to hohoho for another year..."

Scott had lived a long, hard, mundane life. He was born out of wedlock to a couple whose relationship was already on the rocks before feeling obligated to wed, with constant bickering and anger. Yet neither of them treated him with respect, only coldness and distance. He didn't achieve much in school, didn't even make it to college. He married early, giving up his lofty dreams to work in a mundane office job so he could provide for his wife and kids. And even then, his wife cheated on him with his best friend, kicking him to the curb. As his kids grew and moved onto greener pastures, he eventually found himself a lonesome retiree.

However, despite all of this pain, Scott had manged to keep a chipper and positive outlook. Even when he was a child, he always put the needs of other people before his own. He spent countless hours volunteering at charity events and blood drives. Soup kitchens and beach cleanings. He deemed everyone else's needs to be more important than his own. Always smiling as his own world crashed down around him.

Which was why Christmas was such an important holiday for Scott. It was a time for sharing, for togetherness, for bonding. The only light in his life now was Christmas time, when he could put his large stature and bushy beard to good use posing as Santa in the nearby mall. However, it was getting harder and harder to portray the big guy. Longer days, longer hours, and more and more families trying to get their kids to see him. Plus, he was only getting on in years. Maybe he was getting too old to play Santa. For the first time in his twelve years, Scott was glad it was almost Christmas Eve, and he could have a good long rest back in his own home. Alone...

"Are you ready, Santa?" A chipper young elf helper asked, bringing him back to his senses.

Scott pulled himself up in his seat, getting into Santa mode, and nodded. "Bring the next one in."

Into The Convention

 So in an unusual turn of events, I'm throwing out a spoiler warning. If you haven't seen Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, then I suggest you do so before reading this. Otherwise, enjoy!

It was a bright weekend morning at the World Plaza Hotel, and the lobby was buzzing with activity. The annual comic convention had come to town, bringing hundreds of cosplaying fanatics to the hotel. The conference halls were packed and everyone was ready for a good time. Everyone except Andy. He stared out of his hotel room window, too high to even make out what was happening down below, and sighed.

The only reason he came on this trip was the convention. When he found our his dad was staying at the hotel for a business trip on the same weekend, Andy pleaded to tag along for the ride. His dad eventually broke down, but there was a catch. Since the trip was strictly for work purposes, they could only visit the convention in the afternoon. Andy reluctantly obliged but in hindsight, he may as well have stayed home given how he couldn’t even leave the room by himself.

At least he still could watch his favourite movie as much as he wanted. He was already on his third rewatch that day. But it was so good, he couldn't bring himself to watch anything else. Plus, it helped hype him up for his first convention. He jumped back on his bed and grinned as an animated Spider-Man appeared on screen. Andy was the biggest Spider-Man fan, maybe ever. He'd seen every movie, every cartoon series, and read some of the old comics that they kept in the library. He even dreamed of Spider-Man every night. His favourite? Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, obviously. It had not one Spider-Man, but multiple Spider-People! He had almost memorised the script to heart. Yet not even the thrill and hilarity of Miles Morales discovering his new powers could quieten his mind.

Andy looked to his suitcase, where his very own Spider-Man costume lay waiting, his thoughts turning to the previous day. He peeked into one of the conference halls while his dad checked into the hotel, and they were still setting everything up. As he walked away in disappointment, he accidentally bumped into an old man with a thick moustache and sent several boxes crashing to the floor. Of course, he offered to help clean up the mess as any do-gooder would do. He was tickled to learn that the old man was a costume vendor who dabbled in comic and movie accurate outfits. Andy was desperate to see what Spider-Man costumes he had, but his dad interrupted them before he could ask. The old man handed him a business card before scurrying back into the conference room. Andy shoved it into his pocket without even a glance. 

The movie had reached the end of its first act, and Andy was tearing up. No matter how many times he saw it, the moment where Spider-Man sacrificed himself to save Miles always packed a heavy punch. The city had come to a halt to hold a memorial service for Peter Parker, and Miles was preparing to purchase a costume in remembrance. Andy wiped away his tears and shuffled closer to the screen as Miles approached the counter. The shop owner looked mighty familiar. Any Marvel fan worth their weight would recognise the moustachioed old man, but Andy had someone else in mind... He dug into his pockets and pulled out the card he was given. It was solid black with gold lettering. 

JK/SL COSTUMING - THE COSTUME OF YOUR DREAMS

Andy chuckled softly as he wiped a thumb over the embossed words. His dream was to be like Spider-Man, but that was never going to happen. Radioactive spiders weren't real, let alone super powers. He'd done enough research online to know that much. He dropped the card on the floor and looked back up to the screen. He didn't notice as the card shimmered in the window light beam.

Again!?

I did not expect to have as long a break as I did, but I'm back! I thought I'd start off by revisiting an old favourite. You might recognise this as a caption I wrote a few years back. I thought I'd look back through my old stuff and take a shot at expanding on them. Are there anything you've read and wished it was a bit longer? Let me know and maybe I'll give it a go!

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I arrived home from a long day at school brimming with anticipation. The weekend was finally here! I had no homework to complete, and no plans. It was just me and my PS4 all weekend long. I kicked my shoes off and dumped my bag on the staircase, only to pause in suspicion. The house seemed quiet. A bit too quiet... I gripped the banister and yelled upstairs. "Hey dad! You home?"

There was a pause before I heard a response. I couldn't make out what he said, it sounded like he was busy with something. He'd promised not to get up to his usual antics this weekend so hopefully he'd gotten a head start on cleaning the house. I fist pumped and darted into the living room, jumping over the side of the sofa to land on the soft cushions below. I grabbed the TV remote, started up the PS4 and got comfy. I'd had a busy week, and I was ready to play some games. I stretched my thumbs across the controller with a goofy grin, I really missed this. I barely had the time to do anything for myself recently. I was more than ready for some me time. I scrolled through my games library, a small twinge of guilt at how many I had yet to play. A few minutes of debilitating later, I finally decided on an old favourite. 

Yet before I could start it up, my stomach growled and I felt a sharp tingle run down my spine. It was a peculiar, unpleasant feeling that I had become familiar with, much to my disappointment. It's been almost a year since the first time and it still felt weird. I cursed out loud and jumped to my feet, tossing the controller aside. Why now of all times, he'd promised me a break this weekend! Already, I felt that uncomfortable, inflating sensation. Like someone was pumping me with gas. I yanked my shirt off in one swift movement, noticing how my chest seemed to swell with every breath I took. A couple of little hairs had sprung up around my nipples and the centre of my chest. 

Next, I unbuckled my belt and shimmied my jeans down my thicker, hairier thighs. I struggled a moment to get my feet through the leg holes, eventually losing my balance and falling back onto the sofa. I sighed in frustration, I've been through this ordeal a hundred times, at least, yet I still struggled with it. It would help if my dad didn't spring it on me without prior warning. I yanked my underwear off, freeing my junk from their tight, cotton confines. I scratched at my chin as sharp stubble broke through the skin in irritating waves. 

No longer at risk of destroying my clothes, I laid back on the sofa and waited for the changes to finish, mentally cursing my dad for using that remote again. By now, I looked like a college graduate with a slim yet firm body, and a decent spread of hair across my chest. Although I never stayed that way for long, as I raced through my twenties without much fanfare. As I continued to age, I could feel my muscles ache as they bulked up, which was always a welcome feeling. I grinned as my biceps inflated, and my thighs got meatier.

As I approached my forties, my scalp felt itchy as each individual hair faded in colour, focused mostly on the sides but a wave of steel grey eventually swept throughout. My skin grew weathered and rough as a subtle thickness blanketed my buff muscles. I flinched slightly as a tattoo inked itself into existence on my shoulder, which signalled the end of my growth spurt. I leaned back against the sofa with a sigh. Aging three decades in a few minutes certainly takes a lot out of you. I may have gone through the process dozens of times by now but it never got any easier.