#My Portal fixation didn't last all that long this time around but it was very enjoyable to draw everyone again :)

[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: The Stanley Parable/Portal

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: The Stanley Parable

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: Portal

Thursday:

2:30 PM: Adventure Time

Friday:

2:30 PM: AT

Saturday:

2:30 PM: Fellplates

Sunday:

2:30 PM: Fellplates

Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)

[irradon]

i think i'm finally getting over it, guys!

the story of me making a "sad" spotify playlist is so streamlined, you could almost boil it down to a recipe. be it due to another boy betraying my expectations or the suburban quiet turning to a deafening roar, it all starts with me legitimizing the nagging feeling that tugs at me like a child. it pulls on my shirt, asking for my attention when all i want is to ignore it, pretend that i am beyond messy tantrums and even messier rooms.

i ran away from the disappointment of this last fling for so long that i accepted that the heartbreak would linger its way into a home. i made room for it in my heart like one does for a stranger in a bus. the sadness, the feeling of unworthiness that followed in his absence, which came as quickly as his presence, it became my companion as i attempted to lead my life as if it was unchanged. it was only one date, amrita. you should be over it by now. he ended it with you already.

i am famously incapable of moving on from people who express any care or interest in me out of their own volition. more than anything, i am stubborn to a fault, and was so shaken by the whirlwind of march 2023 that i didn't even know how to begin to move on. from that one night he took every expectation i had for romance and shattered them. i had never tasted anything like it, and just like that, it was taken away from me. i couldn't understand the sheer insanity of what had happened. all i knew was that i didn't want to be over. and so despite the wishes of everyone around me who wanted me to move on, i let myself hold onto a shred of hope that it wasn't over.

it was that same persistence that numbed me through a month long escapade in greece, where i fooled around with not one, but two different people in my study abroad program. i let their interest in me dictate how these would go, not stopping to think or care about the consequences or how i was being objectified as a result. they weren't him, after all, so why would i care? they simply provided some much (so i thought) needed validation, and my ego craved nothing more.

when i came home, i found myself more miserable than ever as my attempts to get over him failed. as if things had never ended, i found myself learning more about him, finally having an interest in king krule's space heavy and listening to his song "cellular" (from a different album) on repeat. when i could handle it, i would replay the conversations we had in my mind, trying to figure out what went wrong along the way but wishing, more than anything, that the intimacy we had would return again. i let his music create a sort of makeshift intimacy for me, the sounds through my headphones becoming a portal to my dreamland where my heart wasn't broken and we were friends with no awkwardness. music tears down the ego like nothing else. chords, rhythm, melodies, and lyrics can bare your heart open for anyone to see, if you let it.

and so the nagging child of my own hurt continued to be ignored. my feelings swam around me like koi fish in a vast ocean, muddied by selfish motifs of betrayal and "deserving better" and the godforsaken phrase "if he wanted to, he would" plaguing my social media algorithm. where i was once considered "emotionally aware," charting my own feelings for him with any honesty with myself was like sailing this ocean blindfolded. i would meditate and pretend not to hear my own sadness. instead i'd pick up on "still in love" and assume that was the end of it.

the date itself was a very divine and ethereal moment in time. my body seemed to buzz from how right everything felt at that time. it was so surreal i felt drunk. because of how desperately i wanted these feelings to last, i fixated on them and neglected the anxiety which followed immediately after. i couldn't believe it even happened. my skin felt like it was on edge. my body knew it was over before my mind could even understand it. but these were feelings i knew too often and too well. i wanted him to be different, because he was so different. when i think about the divinity i saw in him, how loving him felt like a religion, how blissful it is to be in love with someone, the allure of unconditional devotion, it felt like a healing balm. i didn't want to walk away, and so i rooted down and stayed to no answer.

it was like that for eight months. the moments of divinity found their ways back to me in ways i never expected. another hours long conversation that ended at 2 in the morning, tying my keffiyeh before a protest, making eye contact that once again felt like years condensed into a second. when i got into that car accident, he only waited for me to say yes before driving over, staying with me for an hour, and driving me home. in these ways, when i think about it, there is still love. it's just confused.

but too much in my life is uncertain and in flux. my routines after the accident have disrupted the facets of my life that kept me grounded. so much has changed in a few months, and i graduate after this next semester. new house, no car, no job. new friends, new pain, your doctor said no exercise for at least a month. no relationships in sight. the ocean of feelings swimming around me has only grown deeper. the nagging feeling of heartbreak is still tugging at my shirt, silently begging for me to pay attention to her.

the nagging feeling finally had a chance to grow louder once my finals ended, and i couldn't numb myself by partying, organizing, working, or studying. i was home, left to my own devices for days on end. and so i numbed myself with my last resort of doomscrolling, and that's where the nagging turned into a scream.

i'd heard the harmonies of "can't catch me now" by olivia rodrigo and they captivated me almost instantly. but instagram reel audios don't always tell you the song name. all i knew was that those were undoubtedly her vocals, and that she'd released an album pretty recently. i searched through her discography, incessantly looking for the song i only knew the melody for, and was left disappointed. still, it tugged at me. it was too pretty - i had to find it, i knew that. but maybe i had gotten the artist wrong, and without knowing the lyrics i was lost on a google search. and so i once again let go of the nagging child's hand.

it only took until the next day for me to find another reel with a sped up version of that song. and, like a beacon of light, someone in the comment section will always ask, "song?" and an angel will bless them with an answer. it was the one song i'd chosen to ignore in olivia's discography, naturally. when i finally pressed play, let the verse bleed into the chorus, a gentle lilt of harmonies and the lyrics "but i'm in the trees, i'm in the breeze / my footsteps on the ground" with nothing but soft strings and finger pickings on an acoustic guitar for an instrumental, i was captivated. i dissolved into the music almost instantly, and the muddied ocean in my body began to clear. i could hear it so vividly, "i'm here, i'm there, i'm everywhere / but you can't catch me now" and felt those words graze my skin with the sunlight streaming through my window. i was ready to let go. my body and mind, my emotions, they were tired. i had neglected myself, that nagging child, for so long.

i've listened to that song on repeat for close to two days now. i parked myself on my couch and let my soul find answers. what about this song spoke to me so loudly? what feelings did it elicit? were there other songs like it? and from those answers, a new playlist was born. olivia's femininity, the sheer power that radiated from soft lyrics and quiet harmonies in the chorus. this was what it has always felt like to walk away. it is to realize that whatever divinity you felt was yours always. the experience came from you and was felt within you. the other person was simply a trigger. i could finally feel a sense of control over myself again. i could embrace something to be "mine," and mine alone. other songs quickly followed suit: by woom, by adrianne lenker, billie marten, laufey. it needed to be explicitly feminine. it needed to be rooted in nature, and soft. and it needed to be beautiful.

the title of this playlist is "555." the caption is "change. everything is shifting." and i'd had it empty for a few months. i knew that when i was ready, the right songs would find their own way into that playlist. it's like any other creative act, or any act in general. when we are ready, we will receive. it took me this time to be ready to move on, to really try everything and feel fleeting moments of connection before fully letting go. do i have answers to most of my uncertainty? no. but the fog finally feels like it's lifting. the ocean is clearing. i finally feel like i'm getting over it.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 29

First time reader click here

Feels like this story is flopping. Is it flopping? Idk. This chapter is 100% plot and it is spooky. Cursed demon box. Helpful Stephen Strange and grumpy Wong. Hovering Bruce and Tony. Loki being a honorary Gen-Z. Found family but make it ✨superheroes✨.

"That's a lot to unpack," Peter stated once I had given him the bare bones report of the situation at hand. "Uh, are you okay?" The boy was obviously upset at my predicament, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder.

"Kinda?" I offered, making space for Wanda and Pietro who decided to join me and Peter, away from the arguing adults. The mission discussion - an absolute disaster - started as soon as Peter had walked in. Evidently experienced in such matters, the boy ignored the bickering and came over to steal me from Bruce's clutches to peacefully finish his egg sandwich in the company of his peers.

"I wanted to ask if I could see your memory of that time," Wanda meekly offered me a piece of candy. I accepted it - sugar sweet sugar, how I love thee so! The witch continued with a smile: "I think it would be helpful to see what we're dealing with, magic-wise."

"Sure," I trusted her. "Just don't scramble what's left of my sanity, please," All of us laughed at my remark as I laid down on the cold floor with my head in Wanda's lap. Her powers felt like small brain zaps, tingles that began at the front of my forehead and ran down into my spine. I followed her instructions and thought about the times I remembered, finding the box, placing it into my closet, the nightmares. I had a mild headache by the time she was done; no grudges against her - Wanda tactfully avoided my private moments and looked only at the ones containing the artifact.

"You've gotten really good," I complimented her with pure adoration.

"Thank you," She blushed, smoothing back my stray hairs. "That stuff is really strong. I don't think you should go near the box," She admitted. "And Doc should take a look at you. You have a residue left. I don't think that's good either."

"Well, fuck," I said in muted resignation.

"Press F to pay respects," Pietro joked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Your luck is almost as bad as mine," Peter pointed out.

I scoffed. "Well, if I see any spiders around, I'll be sure to stay away in case they happen to be radioactive OsCorp runaways."

All of us laughed. Despite the grim situation, I didn't feel doomed. I was surrounded by friends and my boyfriends and my bestie who happened to be a mythical omnipotent god- welp, once again, I was getting too emotional. Once the adults were done arguing, we could start making sense of this mess and hopefully clean it up before the monster is out of the box.

"Mortals," I heard Loki scoff. The next moment, the Asgardian sat down noisily next to me, pout on full display. "This house is a nightmare."

His expression - or the accidental use of a meme - sent me completely, tension leaving my body via copious amounts of nearly hysterical laughter. Through tears and hiccups, I saw Wanda cackle with me and Peter show the meme in question to Loki, noting that he had been once sent to time-out on top of the fridge by Tony himself. Soon, all of us were laughing, much to the displeasure of the adults.

"Children, what is the issue?" Thor asked, irritated.

"We're just waiting for you to be done with arguing," I spoke before Loki could start bitching about Thor calling him a child. "Then I can show Steve and Loki where exactly have I buried the box so Stephen can take me to the healers and get this thing out of me or whatever," I pointed out the most logical plan of action.

Two long strides and the sorcerer was standing over me, boom-boom-whooshing and generally making very pretty golden patterns to appear and land on top of me. Tony and Bruce anxiously hovered behind him, both of my boys concerned and ready to mother-hen me. Ugh, so disgustingly adorable. Wanda's hand encompassed mine - she was nervous.

Stephen took a solid five-minute silence break before coming to a final conclusion. "Wong can get rid of the residual traces of the artifact's influence," The sorcerer announced curtly. "It's good you got rid of the artifact, a few more months and you would have started slipping into insanity if the magic within it was not released," He explained, slowly reaching out a hand to place it on top of my head. I wasn't sure if it was a gesture meant to bring comfort or another diagnostic test but leaned into the touch nonetheless. "Tell me, did you have any behavioral... Disturbances after...?" He trailed off.

I chewed on my lip, evaluating. "I honestly don't know. I've always been kind of an asshole," Honesty was the best policy. "Nothing seems out of order, sleepwalking aside."

"I see," Strange gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Perhaps, it was your stubborn nature that forbade the artifact from corrupting your mind completely. As evidenced by Captain Rogers, even undesirable character traits bring good into this world now and then."

That seemed a little bit hostile. I frowned, giving a questioning look to a frowning Loki.

"Speaking from experience?" Not the one to hold back upon witnessing first-grade bullshit, I withdrew from Stephen's touch, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

Surprising everyone, the man laughed soundly, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I most certainly do," Shooting me a positively mischievous wink. I felt like I was missing something.

The room's inhabitants slowly ticked out in pairs and threes, eager to complete their assigned tasks. Loki had insisted on coming along to the sanctum with me, even almost getting up in Stephen's face, but Bruce - out of all people - managed to calm the Asgardian down, and together we convinced him his magic would be considerably more useful during the retrieval of the cursed box. Loki was worried - everyone with a pair of functional eyes could see that the spiky attitude was his way of showing he cared about me, which made my insides briefly turn to mush. I didn't expect him to take the title of my best friend so seriously and I definitely was not complaining.

Tony was the last to leave, jittery and shaky, clutching me like it was his last time seeing me, kissing me hungrily in front of everyone. The joke or two he made were weak ghosts of his usual sharp snark.

"I love you and I'll be back soon," I whispered into his ear, feeling him freeze and his fingertips dig almost painfully into my sides. Louder, I repeated: "Not planning on dying any time soon, y'all gotta chill. Let's go, doc?" I addressed the tall sorcerer who was tactfully pretending to be busy with his smartphone.

Wanda pressed a duffle bag into my hands mouthing "clean clothes" a split second before Stephen opened a portal and with a great deal of curiosity, I stepped through it, eyes immediately drawn to the dimly lit space filled with books and antiques. So many books, so many unusual trinkets. The chandelier that hung over our heads rivaled the ones I'd seen in million-dollar-homes of dad's friends.

"Follow me," Stephen extended an arm in the direction of a smaller door, "Please do not touch anything."

I walked a pace behind him, satisfying my curiosity by looking around like a child in a candy store. The air smelled different in the Sanctum, almost as familiar as Loki's magic but less frosty... Warmer. A dash of red fabric swished from somewhere towards me; I giggled. The Cloak of Levitation liked me - not nearly as much as it liked Peter though - so I brushed my fingertips along the fabric, greeting it quietly. Talking loudly in this building was out of the question. I felt like any moment, a disgruntled librarian would appear to chastise me for making noise.

"Strange," A short Asian man appeared, book in hand and looking none too happy. Guess that's the librarian... "I got your text. The room next to yours is prepared for the ritual," The man I assumed to be Wong gave me a curt nod in the way of greeting, doing a quick 180° and walking us back to a small but tastefully decorated room with a single cot in the middle. It was pleasantly warm, a small fire lit in the fireplace, willowy smoke of incense rising from a few strategically placed sticks.

"The bathroom is that way. I'm afraid you'll have to be fully nude for the procedure," Strange declared apologetically, pointing to a door hidden behind the divide.

I snorted, but of course, the weird voodoo shit would require me to be naked. Not that I was embarrassed or anything but still. Tony would have a field day. Locating a chair, I dumped my duffle bag on it, flying out of my hoodie and sweatpants in record time. My underwear and socks followed, feet unpleasantly chilly despite the carpeted floor. I ran a hand over the faint bruises on my hips, evidence of last night, fondly - either Tony or Stephen had left marks on my body and that was... It was great. I loved it, drugs or not.

I heard someone clear their throat and turned around, nearly cracking up at the way both men suddenly averted their gazes, blush riding high on their cheeks. I snorted: "I'm hot, what else is new?"

Wong shook his head, busying himself with some sort of a book; Stephen lingered, eyes fixated on the very same bruises. His tongue darted out, wetting the plush of his bottom lip, and damn, this wasn't the time to get horny. I shook my head and with that, the sorcerer caught himself too, mutely motioning me to lay down on the cot.

"Whenever you're done eye-fucking each other," Wong piped up sarcastically - wow, I liked this man already. Stephen grumbled something quiet and rude, provoking another snort from me.

I followed their instructions - shortly after the Asian man began reading - or rather singing - something in a language I didn't know, I felt myself fall into a deep sleep. Or, I thought I was falling asleep. At one point, my eyes opened to an empty room, a thin sheet covering my bare body, and a silence that made chills run down my spine.

"Stephen?" I called out. I sounded like I was underwater to my own ears. "Wong?"

I was met with silence so deafening, I had no choice but to sit up and look around. The fire was burning strong in the fireplace, several logs blackened from it as sparks flew. It took a second for me to realize it made no sound - there was no crackling. Something was very wrong, the dread was creeping up on me.

Very familiar dread.

With the sheet firmly wrapped around me, I hopped off the cot, suddenly noticing the drawings on my arms, my legs. I was covered in runes similar to the ones I had seen on the cursed box - and my memories weren't missing. As clear as day, I recalled messing around with the box, debating on opening it, taking it out of my room only to find it back on my desk in the morning, some serious Anabelle shit.

I jumped as the floorboards cracked somewhere in the house. Every logical thought I had, backed up by every horror movie I had ever watched, screamed at me to NOT go towards the creepy noise; like moth to a flame, I was drawn in and couldn't resist the unnatural urge to investigate it. On silent feet, I padded out of the room, desperately trying not to think about the lonely, dark hallways filled with strange ancient objects. My steps made no noise.

On the couch, in the main room we'd arrived, sitting lazily, was Tony. I'd recognize his hair anywhere - and the Led Zep tee, old, frayed edges and loose threads. "Tony?" I asked hopefully, trying to make sense of this...

He turned around.

It wasn't Tony. Whatever it was, it wore Tony's face, it held his brown eyes and crow's feet around them - it wasn't him. Wrong, like the lack of sound in this place, misplaced and unnatural. The doe browns didn't sparkle, lifeless, dull color of dried mud. As much as I wanted to go and bury my face in his chest, my limbs filled with lead, my whole body screaming "DANGER".

The impostor kept quiet which only solidified my suspicions. Real Tony would be running his mouth already, poking fun at my impression of a sheet ghost.

"Princess?" The... Thing asked in Tony's voice, but it fell flat and monotone.

"Whatever you are, you sure as Hell ain't Tony," I stated firmly, hoping for some answers. "What the fuck?"

Not-Tony's face changed, familiar features twisting into something sinister, the malice making me sick to my stomach. The creature stood up, causing my feet to take an involuntary step back as he advanced slowly.

"You have no choice but to submit," The Thing replied calmly. "You're not getting out of here. Not even your little Asgardian pet god can save you," Its tone was absolutely flat. I would have thought the thing was a robot if not for the obvious involvement of magic in this situation. Its words filled me with dread as thick as molten lava; unfortunately for the creature, unlocking my memories gave me enough rational balance to be acutely aware of it and therefore, able to fight it.

I could fight it. I didn't know how exactly, but I could resist it. "That's a really bold thing to say for something that... What even are you? Magical STD?" As my brain desperately focused on finding a solution to a problem I didn't know all the details of, my mouth had a mind of its own.

The creature growled, a far more primal noise than a human could make. "You don't know what you're up against, child. I am one for we are many," Suddenly, the room was filled with shadows as if someone had turned off all the lights and cranked up the moon to be the brightest it ever was. The shadows moved, oozed, motion sinister without any light to back it up.

I had no choice but to pucker up. Nobody was coming to rescue me; in fact, I always have taken pride in being a self-saving princess. Damsel in distress wasn't really my style. The hunch in my shoulders disappeared, giving way to a stubborn and stiff expectation of the upcoming altercation, hands bailed in fists.

"I mean, like Legion the demon from the Bible?" I recalled what little I knew from Wikipedia. "I mean, I'm agnostic myself, but if you feel like identifying with that, you should probably see a therapist."

The entity growled, shadows gathering around it like fabric on a string, and lunged. Paralyzed by sudden blinding, deafening fear, I turned tail and ran.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95