#as it is its 5 am and i should have gone to sleep 2 hours ago

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

the doppelgilly reveal set to that one bit of digital silence can anybody hear me-

[nerdie-faerie]

This has got to be the worst move out yet

[occatorcreator]

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

1 - Family Lost

Purple and his mother receive a grim diagnosis, and Purple struggles to find a cure to save his only living family member.

Content Warnings: Disease and Major Character Death

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Purple stared up at the clock that punctuated the silent waiting room with its ticking. 

10:15 am. His morning elective class was close to wrapping up. He distantly thought that he should care about what he’ll miss at school, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the hammering of the clock and how long he waited for a response.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

He looked from the clock to the door, waiting for a nurse to come and summon him. Right now, he had been in the hospital for over two hours and there hadn’t been any updates on his mother’s current condition.

If I had slept in, Purple thought, tapping his foot with anxious energy in time with the clock, would she not have made it?

The thing was, he almost had. He had almost shut his blaring alarm off and gone back to sleep. He really hadn’t been in the mood to go to school this morning; he was sure there was a test in math, and he wasn’t ready for it. School was… well, it had become more unpleasant since the divorce. Despite it being a year since Navy left, thoughts of the divorce sent his mind into a negative tailspin. All those times Navy ragged on him to wake up “bright and early” every day for routine exercise, and all those times he got annoyed by Purple’s fussing made him resent the idea of getting up at all.

He debated sleeping in to spite Navy, but what was the point of that? Not like Navy would show up to witness the spite. All that would come of sleeping in would be the omelets mom prepared growing cold. She was the only parent he had left now; he couldn’t let her down by being a brat about school.

And now he faced the possibility of having no parents… he found his mother fallen to the kitchen floor, unconscious, with the omelets burning.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Every second not knowing if Orchid was alright or dead drove Purple mad. He had driven as quickly as he could to the hospital and made enough of a scene in the emergency room to get her wheeled in right away. The doctors had escorted him to a nearby waiting room after they took Orchid to treatment, offering reassurance and describing some procedure they’re doing.

Knowing that barely worked to calm him down. Purple was no longer actively panicking, but he was fretting. He hated sitting. It was the inability to do anything but wait, unsure what the response would be, unable to take his mind off of anything but his prayers that things will be alright.

Tick tock. Tick- creak.

The door grabbed Purple’s attention. He stood up preemptively, ready to meet the nurse, only to blanch back as a giant orange stick figure ducked his way through the door frame. Clutching at his massive hand was a golden child, about four or five years old. He looked nervously around the room, sticking close to the orange stick’s leg.

“Just have a seat, Mr. Tango,” the nurse said. “We’ll call you when they’re done.”

The stick figure nodded at the nurse with a sour expression.

“Will Second be okay?” the child asked the nurse.

“Your older sibling will be fixed up,” the nurse said, smiling softly. “It’s just a minor fracture.”

And what about my mother? Purple wanted to ask. Is she going to be okay? 

The question died on his tongue as Mr. Tango passed by him to take a seat. Purple instantly stepped back from the towering figure. By the time he and his child found a place to sit, the nurse had already left, shutting the door.

Great, still nothing, Purple thought, returning to his seat. He missed the prior solitude of the waiting room. With other stick figures around, he felt self conscious of his worrying. Not to mention, one of them was a small child. Purple wasn’t ready for the annoyance that would follow when that small child inevitably got bored and started wandering around, looking for things to do.

“Hello,” the child waved at Purple.

Purple took a deep breath, counted mentally to two, and looked at the child standing before him with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

“Hi,” he greeted half-heartedly.

The child tapped his hands together nervously, eyes looking down at Purple’s feet upon the less-than warm response. Somehow his sour mood didn’t send the kid crawling to his parent, which made Purple raise an eyebrow.

“What do you want?” Purple asked, baring his teeth in a false grin.

“Um, can I have that?” The child asked, pointing at the table filled with magazines.

Purple waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not using it, and you don’t need to ask. Just take it.”

The child brightened and grabbed a magazine. He retreated back to sit by his father, who’s cold gaze regarded Purple in a way that made Purple’s skin crawl. The giant’s gaze reminded him of Navy’s.

Specifically, the day Navy left. He could never forget that cold and guarded stare despite Orchid’s best attempts to shield them from him.

“I guess this is it, then,” Navy said, “I’m leaving.”

Don’t think about him, Purple mentally scolded, closing his eyes to refocus on the present.

With nothing else to get his mind off of the past and present situation, he watched as the child flipped through the magazine. It didn’t take long for the child to realize that magazines were mostly advertisements and boring articles he couldn’t read before he placed it to the side. He caught that Purple was looking at him, and Purple failed to look away in time.

“My sibby broke their thumb.”

Sibby? Purple didn’t know how to comment on that odd shorthand for sibling. 

“Ah…How did that happen?” It took Purple a full second before he found his voice. He got the feeling the kid was a bit of a chatterbox, how unfortunate. Purple had no desire to talk, but he felt like he couldn’t stay silent either.

Maybe this could get his mind off of things...

“My dad had a day off, took me and Second in the park,” the child said, “We did lots of fun stuff and it was really nice out. We were playing truth or dare, and I dared Second to punch a tree!”

He looked expectantly, waiting for Purple to supply a question. Yet when Purple only bothered with a raised eyebrow, Mr. Tango cleared his throat. 

“You two didn’t answer why you did that in the first place, Gold,” Mr. Tango said.

The child — Gold — looked down at his dangling legs, ashamed. “It’s cuz Second’s as strong as you, dad.” Gold said, “I wanted to see if they could punch a hole in the tree.”

Punch a hole in a tree? Ridiculous. Purple scoffed.

“Still. Punching things without the proper technique can be dangerous,” Mr. Tango said. “I hope you two don’t do that again in the future.”

“We won’t, dad,” Gold said.

Again, Mr. Tango reminded Purple of Navy. That comment was a straight-out warning he said during sparring lessons. His father drilled in many basics on keeping yourself from breaking your arm while fighting. Having that reminder of his father again, combined with the ludicrousness of the child’s story, and the fact they were in the hospital over something so stupid made Purple surly. 

“Let me guess,” Purple said, “your sibling was dumb enough to tuck their thumb in their fist while punching?” 

That was harsh. Now both father and son were glaring at Purple. Purple could feel his heart hammering, desire to cower and apologize strong, but not strong enough to overcome anger brought on from constant fatigue and stress.

“Second’s not dumb!” Gold snapped. “They just didn’t know they needed to do that.”

Purple shrugged. “Sounds like the definition of dumb to me,” Purple said, “I mean tucking your thumb in is unnatural and uncomfortable, so why do that?”

“Not everyone comes into the world knowing everything there is to know,” Mr. Tango warned, “and I don’t care much for you insulting someone you hardly know.”

Mr. Tango said it with a threatening, low tone that made Purple reconsider and apologize for his meanness. 

Almost. He might have, had Gold kept his mouth shut.

“They managed to knock the tree down in one hit even when doing it wrong!” Gold bragged. “I bet you can’t do that!”

Inadvertently, Gold managed to hit a sore point for Purple. Orchid and Navy both were prolific fighters in their prime, strong and agile enough to break wood and cinder blocks with a well placed hit. Purple knew it could be done, but he was never strong enough, never fast enough to do it. All he got was painful bruising and a sprain so awful he gave up trying.

And given today, Purple’s fuse was short.

“You little liar,” Purple snapped, “no one can do that.”

“I’m not!” Gold balked, and he tugged on Mr. Tango’s arm. “Dad, you saw it too! Tell him! Second did punch a tree down!”

But there was a split second of hesitation in Mr. Tango’s gaze, that moment of doubt and skepticism. Before he had the chance to defend his son, Purple pounced.

“If your dad claims that, then he’s helping a liar,” Purple said, “I thought preschool taught you better than to make up stories for attention.”

“I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” Gold yelled, and Purple saw that the child was so worked up that tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m not a liar!”

“What is your problem?” Mr. Tango snapped, standing up tall to get between Gold and Purple. He didn’t yell like Purple did, but clearly didn’t hide his anger. “You have no right to talk to my son like that.”

“Maybe if you didn’t want me to yell at your liar of a kid,” Purple snapped, “then you should have parented better.”

“Excuse me?”

Purple stood up. He was a pipsqueak to the massive stick figure before him, his limbs shaking from fear and rage both. 

“I’m just saying, a kid who broke his wrist punching trees and one that makes up tall tales to strangers reflects poorly on you.” Purple said, “My parents wouldn’t hear me spouting such nonsense.”

“Where are they?” Mr. Tango asked, grinning without any joy. “I would like to talk with them about their parenting skills if they could raise someone who’d yell at children for little reason.”

To that Purple had no response.

Oh creator, what would mom think of me right now? Purple thought, visibly deflating and stared at the ground in shame.

Now the only sound there was the clocks ticking and Gold crying. Seeing no fight left in Purple, Mr. Tango sat down and started to console his child. Gold buried his head in his father’s chest, weeping and insisting he wasn’t a liar.

Creak

“Purple?” A nurse came in with a clipboard. 

“Yes?” Purple straightened himself up. “Is she ready?”

“She is,” the nurse nodded, his expression appearing grim despite his smile. “She wants to talk to you.”

Oh, good she’s awake, Purple thought, but still… the dread in his stomach grew. Why is the nurse looking at me like that if she’s awake?

“Okay. Take me to her.”

He followed the nurse out, ignoring the pressing glares of Mr. Tango and Gold following him out.

=

“Rapid aging syndrome?”

Purple sat by Orchid’s beside, holding her hand. Orchid was looking rather pale and frail, but she was alive. The doctors managed to stabilize her.

But only stabilize;  there was no cure for this condition.

“Yes,” Orchid said, “Explains a lot of things, like why I didn’t have the same stamina as your father even though we’re the same age.”

She said it with light airiness that nearly made Purple cry.

“But, this is a glitch in your programming, right?” Purple said, clearing his throat, “couldn’t they patch you?”

To that Orchid let out a shaky sigh and patted Purple’s hand. Purple noticed the faint tremor in her hands.

“They found out that they can’t,” Orchid said, plainly.

“Why not,” Purple asked, voice rising. “They’re doctors! Expert coders! They have to fix you! What sort of doctors would they be if they couldn’t?”

“It’s not that simple, honey,” Orchid hushed, “They discovered that my code’s corrupted. The fact they could stabilize me without losing my memories was a miracle in it of itself.”

“Surely, there’s a way around corruption,” Purple begged, “You mean to tell me they can’t stop you from just… aging to death?”

Orchid didn’t say anything at first. She looked up at the ceiling with an inscrutable expression. In that moment, Purple wondered how well she was taking the news that she was given a terrible death sentence, aging at an insanely rapid rate until she shriveled up to a husk. Looking at her now, all the marks Purple blamed on exhaustion or loss of appetite were the tell-tale signs of becoming an elder.

“The doctors gave me two choices,” Orchid said after a moment, “Either I would have 5 months left to live, or they would reset me.” She then turned to Purple. “And reset means full reset. My age, all of my memories… I would be as I was created, as my 18 year old self. I wouldn’t even recognize you as my son anymore. Even with that, I could still be… lost to a reset. There is no guarantee to save me.” Her expression turned pained. “You know which one I had to choose.”

“That’s so f-messed up,” Purple caught himself. But he wished he could swear. How could anyone sugarcoat that?

“The doctors will want to discuss care options in light of my condition,” Orchid said, “having nurses to care for me at home, or placing me in hospice care.”

“But we don’t have the money for a live-in nurse,” Purple pointed out quietly. 

Orchid hummed in agreement. “And I don’t want to be moved to hospice care if I can still stand and walk.” 

“I could care for you,” Purple offered. “Take off school for a bit-“

“I don’t want to place you in that position,” Orchid waved her hand, “and your education would suffer for it.“

“Mom, I’ll be blunt, my education has already suffered from… Navy leaving.” Purple couldn’t even say the divorce to her, “I won’t be able to focus on shoring up what’s left of my education knowing that your… that you're going to…”

He couldn’t say that either. He shan’t say it, or else he made it true. He didn’t want it to be true.

“Fair point…” Orchid muttered. She placed her hand on her chin and hummed. “There is always my creator,” Orchid paused, “I still have her email address, and I occasionally send her updates. We could stay with her for a while.”

“An actual human? With a desktop?” Purple asked. “Is it even possible for us to go there?”

Orchid nodded. “I’m certain something can be arranged once I reach out to my lawyer and get my affairs in order.”

“Don’t say that, mom,” Purple shook his head.

“I’m afraid we don’t have many options,” Orchid said, “Plus, it would be nice to take you to our childhood home.”

Our?  Purple thought, You mean, dad also grew up on that computer?

Purple wasn’t sure about going on a human’s computer with all the risks, but like Orchid said, it wasn’t like there was any better options they could take.

I’ll find something to save you from this fate, mom, he thought, I promise.

Purple kept this vow deep in his heart as the doctors returned.

=

Her name was Alana, and, despite his mom promising to take him to her childhood home, she clearly owned the latest Apple Macintosh. Alana was nice, nicer than what Purple expected of a human from his history class, and she welcomed Orchid and Purple upon their arrival through her email. They had to write out words on the email in order to communicate with her, but Purple learned he didn’t need to talk with Alana often. She was present for the first two days to ensure they settled on the desktop, before just disappearing and leaving them to their own devices for days on end.

Orchid explained most of the situation to Alana. She wasn’t fully candid about her diagnosis, but she shared that Purple was her and Navy’s son, and that they needed a place to stay in the meantime.

Alana asked only one question. “What happened to Navy?”

The awkward silence and body language from both Orchid and Purple told enough for Alana to discern something happened, but she didn’t feel the need to press.

Living on a desktop was a new experience, one Orchid was happy to guide Purple on.

“Ah, they updated so many things!” Orchid said in awe, “You’re getting a better experience than I did. The desktop is so lovely!”

She leaned down to press a button. It was the finder, and it opened up a series of apps. However, she let out a groan of pain as she struggled to stand back up.

“Careful!” Purple said, lifting her up, “you know you can’t move like you used to.”

Orchid looked forlornly at what she opened, rubbing her back. Stacks of icons stretched above her without any easy way to traverse them.

“Right. Climbing would be your strong suit, you have to do that a lot on a desktop,” she said, half muttering as the advice she gave came with a realization of her condition. That her body was too old to navigate something that she had done in her youth.

Purple had to watch her as that condition worsened overtime.

Not that Purple was idle during this time. He set to work making the desktop space more accommodating for an elder. He found Flash and constructed a crude house with the pencil tool. The linework wasn’t the neatest, but it was convenient, light enough for him to pick up the house and set it down, but sturdy enough that a punch wouldn’t knock it down.

He tried looking around for Orchid and Navy’s files. After all, if they were made, then that means there had to be backup copies somewhere around. Surely, Alana transferred their files to the new computer, there had to be something to counter the apparent corruption.

“Purple, please don’t be going into Alana’s files,” Orchid warned.

Purple nearly fell off the top of the directory, not expecting to hear her voice. It started to croak with age, a tremor of strain she didn’t use to have. She leaned on a crude cane Purple drew to help support herself. He hastily went down so she didn’t have to call him.

“I’m not doing anything shady,” Purple insisted, “I was hoping to find… something.”

Orchid gave him a look. A look he knew too well when she suspected Purple was up to one of his antics. He received that look a lot whenever the school called about his moments of less-than-stellar behavior. 

But as quickly as it appeared, it fell. “Look, I’m just warning you, if you poke around in her files and break it, she will be incredibly upset and hurt by that,” she chuckled lightly, “I’m speaking from experience here. Navy and I regretted how we clowned around back in the day.”

You? A trouble maker? Purple couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of Orchid, roughly around his age, causing trouble for her creator. But the smirk faded when that image contrasted the frail stick figure before him. 

“Why did Alana… make the both of you?” Purple asked.

Orchid blinked, not expecting the question. She fiddled with her cane, nails gently scraping against its side.

“I don’t know. Flash animation was new and there was a genre of animation that featured fighting stick figures beginning to form. I supposed Alana wanted to add a battle couple, but I couldn’t be certain.” 

Purple’s face curled at the thought. “Like she made you two to be a couple?”

“Not like that, she made us to be a team,” Orchid’s smile looked forlorn and she looked elsewhere, “the love came later.”

Purple shuffled awkwardly, knowing how that “love” ended for them all. “Why did you two leave the computer?”

“Stick City was new, and we both wanted to strike it on our own,” Orchid explained, “we wanted to be famous, and we didn’t feel like we could if we stayed on a desktop.” She let out a huff. “How funny that I ended up back here after all this time.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, Purple, I’d rather you not go poking around and getting into trouble.” Orchid placed her hand on Purple’s shoulder. “Come. I can show you some games on the Mac you can play in the meantime.”

“Games?”

“Yes, I know I can’t play the ones that are more active, but I don’t want that to stop you from experiencing the fun you can have on a desktop,” she said, “it’s way more immersive.”

Purple opened his mouth to argue something, before closing it and nodding.

I really can’t go against her wishes now, Purple thought, besides, there are healing items in games, maybe I can find something to fix her?

“What do you recommend I try, mom?” he asked.

Time moved too quickly for Purple’s liking. He did as much as he could in his investigation of the games on Alana’s computer. Some of the games were fun, but ultimately useless to his main goal. Others had healing items he had to buy from a vendor or could collect in chests. He gave these to Orchid, yet the most they did was ease her aching joints.

He found Minecraft through his investigation and it, too, had healing items that didn’t work. Yet, the game was fun, intriguing enough for even Orchid to join in on the fun. He found himself simply just building things with Orchid out of the simple blocks provided in creative mode. They began to build a foundation of a castle, but in time, only Purple was able to build the castle. When that happened, he abandoned construction to refocus his efforts in finding a cure.

Orchid was visibly getting older and weaker every passing day. She walked slower, leaned on her cane more often, and complained of pain in her bones. Vision and hearing were going, and Purple had to draw her glasses and hearing aides to help her.

Nothing was working. He tried experimenting with healing items he found: mixing it into her food, combining it with other mechanics, and even breaking into a game’s code to see if there was anything he could pull. All his efforts did was ease the burdens of aging. He could not cure nor save Orchid from her fate.

Eventually, Orchid became too weak to even leave her bed. Purple was torn between wanting to stay by her side and care for her or leaving to find something he possibly overlooked. He settled for spawning a villager from an egg to be her nurse while he stepped away. But walking away was difficult; he felt every hour he was away was the hour he came back to find her…

He came crawling back with nothing to show for it.

“Is there anything in your game that can stop this?” Purple asked the villager, one night after he returned. “To stop her from dying?”

The villager looked around, unsure if Purple was genuinely engaging with them or speaking out loud to himself. When Purple remained silent, the villager felt like they needed to respond.

 “I don’t know,” they admitted, “I haven’t heard of anything like that.”

“You do realize you don’t age, right?” Purple continued. “You and every video game character are just frozen, as you are. You don’t have to worry about growing old, leaving your kids and loved ones behind...”

“That’s not…” the villager trailed off when he met Purple’s cold stare. “It’s not that simple..”

“Seems pretty simple to me. You, a computer program, live on, while us stick figures, also computer programs, grow old and die. How unfair is that?” Purple muttered. “I ask again. Is there anything in this stupid game that can make her ageless like you?”

The villager shook his head and took a step back. Something was in Purple’s voice that deeply frightened the sniveling NPC. And for a moment, Purple thought of pulling out his sword and stabbing the villager for his unhelpfulness. 

After all they were only ageless, not immortal. Weak.

He walked away from the villager, but those horrid thoughts followed him. 

=

“What’s happening to Orchid?”

Alana logged on to find her desktop disheveled: a half finished castle from Minecraft, a crude house with a crude bed where Orchid lay in it. She must look so bad that even a human could see it on the screen.

Purple stayed by her side, unable to sleep, and stared blankly at the writing above him. He dared not grab the pen he used to write, he didn’t want to get up and leave his mother’s side.

It had been five months. Her time was almost up, and all his efforts to stop it amounted to nothing. 

The cursor moved down and Purple placed himself between it and his mother.

“Don’t!” he said, splaying his hand out. He knew Alana couldn’t hear, but he spoke anyway. “She’s very fragile.”

“Is that Alana?” Orchid croaked.

Her feeble, weak voice broke Purple’s heart to hear. Her glasses were off to the side, but she didn’t reach for them. 

“Yes, it’s her.” 

“Ah, I'm glad,” Orchid said, “I worried… I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.”

“No, no mom, you don’t have to,” Purple said, clinging to her hands. “There- I’m still searching for a cure- I can-“

“Shh,” Orchid placed her hand on his cheek, stilling him. “No, Purple, honey. My time is up. And I don’t want to see you wasting your time searching for a cure that doesn’t exist.”

“But I can’t give up, not now,” Purple shook his head. Her face began to blur and hot tears streaked down his face. “I don’t want you to leave me. Stay here. Please.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” Orchid coughed, “I want to be with you… but I don’t want you to suffer for my sake.”

She wiped his tears with her shaking, wrinkled hands. A pointless endeavor, for Purple could not stop sobbing.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Purple choked, holding her hand.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Purple,” Orchid said. Her hand slackened to her side and eyes closed. “Promise me something, Purple?”

“What?” Purple leaned in. “What do you need me to do?”

There was a beat of silence, just the raspy rise and fall of her chest.

“Promise me that you'll…” Orchid whispered so faintly, every word laborious. “Promise me you’ll… take good care of yourself… that you’ll find someone-” She broke off into coughing.

“Hush, hush. Of course, of course I will.” Purple said and hugged Orchid. “I promise.”

Orchid didn’t return the hug, too weak to do so.

“I love you,” she wheezed.

Then, she let out a shuddering gasp and fell limp within his arms. 

“Mom?” Purple pried away, staring at her gaunt face, eyes closed. He saw that she was becoming translucent, fading away like a spirit.

 “Mom? Please…”

Then there was nothing, just him clinging to the blankets. All that Orchid was became nothing now. Not a trace of her was left, except her scent and his memories.

And with that he wept openly into the empty bed while Alana wordlessly hovered above.

[eliciana]

SAGAU SERIES: Misunderstandings

-> Chapter 1 | Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4 (Here)| Chapter 5 |...

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_________________________________________

Tw: Sagau, Cult!Au

Reader: Gn!Reader, Creator!Reader, God!Reader

Characters: Reader, Unknown Voice, Ganyu, Keqing, Aquilo

Note: Revised and corrected spelling mistakes

____________________________________

You’ve been acting like a fool for an entire hour now. Honestly, you feel like those hero days you have imagined after knowing you are the Creator is now over. You can’t even bring out a single dirt out of your fingertips. Even resulting to saying “Abracadabra” didn’t even work. Might as well give up right now. Is what you would have said if you were a little bitc- /jk. You once again paced around your now new entirely furnished house.

“Hm. What to do? What to do?” Either you were tapping your foot or going around in circles trying to figure out how to fix your predicament, there was no in between. Maybe you should try imagining the magic you were going to summon? That is a possibility. After all, it always somehow works in the novels or Mangas that you always read. Or perhaps touching the Statues of the Seven? It worked for the Traveler, why wouldn’t it work for you? Yet, the thought of the Vision users or Archons catching you caused dread to cloud your mind.

You released a heavy sigh, settling onto the plush sofa provided by the Hilichurls, acquired possibly through less-than-licit means from a merchant's carriage. The sofa's appearance of comfort was not deceiving; its cushioning enveloped you like a gentle cloud. Yet, as you indulged in this luxurious moment, a voice within chided you.

[Why are you procrastinating right now, dear Creator? Shouldn’t you be trying to find out how to summon magic so you could eat the cuisines you said you wanted to try above the surface? This is not a moment for leisure, Your Majesty, chop chop time is ticking.]

“Oh, shut up!” you yelled furiously. Your outburst cut through the tranquil ambiance, a vehement assertion against the nagging voice. You sat up once again, parting ways with the plush sofa. “I need to do this. For the food!” you told yourself repeatedly.

“This time, let’s try to envision it more vividly.” You took a deep breath in and tried to relax your muscles. “I got this. I got this. This is an easy task, [Reader]. You have always done this every time you sleep. Imagining as if [Fave Character] is beside you, snuggling with you as you sleep.” It did help in cheering you on. With your eyes shut, you visualized a delicate wisp of Anemo energy twirling around your fingertips. [Just small though. Don’t overdo it. You might summon a tornado and your house will be gone.] The voice ringed in your head once again. [That’s right. You’re doing good.] It said once again.

Seconds after, you felt a small breeze in front of you. Did you really did it? Can you finally eat all the foods you want? You took a small peek and you opened your eyes immediately. Your eyes shined like the stars below.

“Yes! I did it!” You ran towards the kitchen and picked up the slime that was dazedly looked at you. “Aquilo, love! I did it! Look! I can use magic!” Excitedly, you showed him the small wind that formed at the tip of your index finger. “I CAN FINALLY EAT THE CUSINES I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO EAT AT THE SURFACE! MY REDEMPTION ARC IS HAPPENING! JUST YOU CHARACTERS WAIT! I WILL NO LONGER BE AFRAID OF ANY OF YOU AFTER I MASTERED MY MAGICAL PROWESS!” You yelled vigorously and laughed like a madman. Aquilo is truly concerned for your health.

_________________________________________

“The Traveler hasn’t been showing up. I am quite concerned for them. Ever since the Creator was said to have descended upon our land, the Traveler was never seen again. Do you think they went ahead and tried to find Their Majesty, Keqing?” Asked Ganyu solemnly.

“Perchance. The Traveler is, after all, the one closest to Their Majesty the most and is the direct Acolyte. They may have felt Their Majesty’s aura and decided to follow it and never told us because they were rushing.” Keqing deduced. From the reports gathered, it was said that The Traveler after finishing all of their commissions suddenly ran towards a waypoint and disappeared to who knows where. Even the Archons don’t know where they might be as of now.

“Finding The Creator would have been much easier if The Traveler was only here.” Keqing looked at the starry sky above the Jade Chamber.

Ganyu's brow furrowed as she pondered aloud, her voice tinged with genuine concern. “I truly wish that we would be able to locate Their Majesty sooner. I wonder why They have run away from the Favonius Knights…” she mused, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her mind.

_________________________________________

A/n:Hi guys. Sorry for the very very very very late update of this Series. My school sucks as* and they give so many assessments so I coudln't finish the draft. So sorry, I promise to drop the next chapter either 20-21 or 27-28 of April. If not, i'm probs dead with all of the projects we do. Lmao

[bluegumballmf]

OK SO RANT WARNING I LOVE ADAMAI

ngl i think about adamai so much like literally almost half of the time im thinking abt him so um i just wanna talk about my personal headcanons for him bc i rlly rlly like him he’s genuinely such an easy character to relate to for me because i relate to his trauma. Anyways, forgive me if you catch any spelling or grammar errors, i’m writing this with like 4 hours of sleep and dyslexia.

um so my main mental health hcs are that he has BPD, ADD (lololol fits with the name) and minor psychosis. For ADD, it’s moreseo that from what i’ve seen, adamai struggles in social cues and has a more quiet approach to his struggles, and that he acts similarly to me, and I am autistic. For psychosis, it’s sort of a baseless headcanon, I just feel like Adamai would get auditory/ tactile hallucinations.

It’s a little hard to explain why i think he has BPD cause it’s moreso things I can relate to, such as how he latches onto people rlly quick ; ie a BPD person’s “favorite person,” who is a support system and a sort of pillar/ anchor and typically end up being someone the person w/ BPD sometimes ends up changing themself for. I personally think that adamai’s had multiple favorite people, such as; grougal, qilby, phaeris, echo and oropo, and obviously, yugo. Its kinda hard for me to like. Phrase WHY i think these people are his fps, but i think it’s mostly how he values them and prioritizes them when it comes to his actions and thoughts and feelings, i mean, just take oropo for example. Adamai changed his entire body for oropo, taking the dofus in when he was still rlly young for eliatrope/dragon standards, even assuming a body he didn’t want to survive, which even then, he only did for approval and support from his FP. This actually leads me into my next headcanon,

I headcanon adamai as transfem. Specifically a trans woman. For a few reasons, which I’ve gone over in a twitter thread (same username as on here, you should go check it out, I’m WAY more active there haha) but i’ll put it here.

1. adamai doesnt feel comfortable in his body and it’s elaborated on in the show. When he’s talking to eliatrope about his body, eliatrope states that he’s “always been unique” and iirc you can see adamai’s face drop because its not exactly something he’s proud of.

2: going off the last point, he’s shown to say that the body he now has in wakfu s3-4 is one he had to adapt to survive and not the one he chose, which is parallel to some trans people never transitioning because they dont feel safe enough to do so. this is kind of a stretch but bear with me, it’s more subconcious connections than anything else.

3. (More of a joke point) BUT HE LITERALLY HAS THE SAME WAIST SIZE AS JESSICA RABBIT. WHAT. YES I’VE ACTUALLY COMPARED I AM NOT JOKING. Like here are the images (see below) for comparison. In all seriousness, while i feel like adamai’s design IS iconic and it does serve the purpose it meant to acheive, it doesn’t feel like him. Which again, is what it meant to acheive!! I’ll touch on this more in a second, but not.

4: adamai has multiple issues regarding self perception, which in a way are all similar to dysphoria. He seems to have rejection dysphoria, body dysphoria, and maybe gender dysphoria. In my view, he seems to have all three subtypes of gender dysphoria (body, mind, and social) this actually ties in to the first point, because i feel like he’d develop a sort of body dysmorphia from shifting into a body he didn’t want, rather then a body that would be more comfortable for him; the human or the dragon. Which i’m choosing to see as a representation of the two genders; with him shifting in between being a sort of safe spot, like how many trans people identify as nonbinary or bigender before transition. (Not to say that these people are any less trans then any others, i’m just going off my own perception as a trans genderfluid person!!!)

5: he’s always being forced into roles; from being raised for yugo, to being yugo’s mentor, to being grougal’s nanny, to being possessed, etc. Ad never has chances to choose any roles by himself, and it’s similar to transphobic parents stopping their trans kid from expressing themselves imo. Again, could be a stretch, but this is how i interpreted it. It’s actually kind of similar to my parents, so maybe that’s why. Though, this COULD also just be gifted kid burnout or autistic burnout OR strict parent parallels, which i also can see correspond with adamai.

6: His mental image and self worth.

Adamai’s character is heavily influenced by a lack of self worth. He measures it with other people’s perceptions of him such as oropo’s or grougal’s, and when his body is perceived negatively by himself/others, he also starts hating it and himself, which ties into the headcanon i had about him having body dysmorphia AND into the BPD favorite people!!!

7: ( sounds like a joke point but bear w me) estrogen could have saved him

And honestly, no, Im not joking. Imo, if Adamai was allowed access to an actual process to be able to feel comfortable in his own skin, it might help his mental illnesses a lot in the long run. I equate that to him getting estrogen + finally looking like himself. It could help him with the body dysmorphia and self esteem by helping him get to a place where he’s comfortable to be himself and maybe even shapeshift again. (I actually wrote a fic about this on Ao3, https://archiveofourown.org/works/55070686, if you want to read it!!)

But um yeah, thats my reasoning for the trans headcanons, onto the less mental health involved ones, more miscellaneous. (But if you’re wondering why i’m using ‘male’ pronouns on Adamai, it’s because i feel like he would still like the he/him pronouns, but would simply use she/her more post transition.)

So, i have a few, mainly for adamai during winter vs summer.

In winter,

Silverish hair to blend with the snow

hair puffs up slightly to provide more insulation

lighter pigmentation everywhere,

much sleepier, tends to nap in the snow often

And then in the summer,

Blonde hair

more pigmentation

hair is less puffy, just curly (similar to chibi’s hair!!!)

less sleepier and more energetic.

Those are the basic ones for the seasons, but i also headcanon adamai to be an ice dragon, which means his tempurature is MUCH lower then the rest of the council’s save for maybe efrim. He needs to be in the sun much more, which could be part of the reason why grougal chose oma island to raise adamai. Another headcanon is that adamai and yugo both have heterochromia!! Yugo has central heterochromia, and Adamai has sectoral heterochromia; his eyes being blue and brown. I also headcanon that he has face markings similar to his mother, but they disappear in his dragon form because he’s closer to his father then.

Um yeah, that’s kind of it for right now, i might add onto these if more come up, but i hope you enjoyed reading!! I rwally love adamai, especially in s3 and up, he’s one of the most well written traumatized character’s i’ve seen, and i ADORE the nuance behind him.

[antisocialmastermind]

Chapter 5

Day 5: UISLWTF = wistful, lift, suit

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 on Ao3

Kurt sleeps late on Saturday morning, waking slowly to warm spring light slipping through his bedroom window. Groaning, he stretches to grab his phone. 9:12 AM. 

He hadn’t stayed too late last night. Long enough to bask in the glow of success radiating around the table and eat his cheese and fruit. But the day had been long and he’d found himself in bed, buzzy and content, by 12:30. He drags himself out from under the sheets and staggers to the kitchen to find a very empty coffee maker. Elliott must have left early. Scowling, he curses coffee-forgetting roommates under his breath and sets a pot brewing. 

He’s heading for the shower when his phone buzzes out a text from Chandler. See you later at the gallery? Make sure Elliott drinks his water lol. Well, that explains the lack of hot coffee in this apartment. 

Kurt types lol late night? Yes see you there and then luxuriates in the shower until the water runs cold. 

He’s heading to the fire escape to check on the embossing when he gets Chandler’s reply. Very. I left those bozos in the middle of a very serious discussion about norse mythology lmao.

Grinning, Kurt lifts the weights and fabric off the swath of leather. Happily, the abstract pattern from the stamp is lightly pressed into its surface. An ink wash will help the pattern pop a little. Maybe he’ll head to Muse early and christen the new studio space this morning. 

He throws a bagel into the toaster and packs supplies into a leather tote. Sitting at the counter to eat, he absently plays with his phone, then fills a travel mug and calls a cab. He’s got too much to carry to think about walking.

There’s a stylized brass dragon holding the gallery door open when he arrives, and the warm May breeze ushers Kurt inside. Elliott’s standing behind the white desk, all of his attention focused on the laptop in front of him. His eyes drift upward to acknowledge Kurt, but he doesn’t lift his head. He looks tired. Drawn. Almost wistful. Kurt’s left eyebrow twitches up in question.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Yup,” Elliot exhales. “Just trying to finish up the website.” Kurt looks at him appraisingly, eyebrow still raised. Elliott’s eyes return to the computer screen. 

“Okay,” Kurt replies, eyes traveling over Elliott’s face. “I’m gonna use the studio till Chandler gets here.” Elliott nods but doesn’t reply. 

Kurt takes his supplies into the pristine new space and starts setting things out on the work surface. He unrolls the leather so it doesn’t crease, laying it on the counter near the black ink pad. He carefully slides a partly finished collage onto the counter, too, and studies it, imagining scraps of purple.

It’s about an hour of slicing strips of leather and tacking them to the hand painted linen before his back starts to hurt. He’s just stepped back from the counter to stretch when he hears Chandler out in the gallery. Perfect time for a break. He scoops up his travel mug and goes to meet him.

****

Kurt and Chandler are going to share days working at Muse. Elliott’s gone all-in and quit his DJ gigs so that he can do evenings. Except Fridays. He’ll still play with the band on Friday evenings, so those are Kurt’s, too. Which is why the three of them are crowded around the laptop while Elliott clicks the trackpad and points at the screen. They at least need to be able to use the software to record sales. They’ll learn the rest as they go.

“Okay,” Elliot’s saying, “so once you find whatever piece you’re looking for, you click here and this window should pop up –” 

“Oh!” Chandler interrupts. “That’s your new fan! B.D. Anderson.” They’re looking at the sales details for Elliott’s piece. Along with the name, Kurt sees payment information and an address he’s pretty sure is on the Upper East Side. Swanky.

“Is he a critic? Do we know?” Chandler continues. Elliott just shrugs.

“Not from any publication I know of,” he answers. “But I guess we can keep our eyes open for a review.”

“Which would be glowingly positive,” Chandler crows, “considering he snapped this one up in, like, two seconds. He loves you.”

“Anyway,” Elliott sighs abruptly, “once you put in the buyer’s information, make sure you save it and then click here.” Kurt side-eyes him. Something’s definitely up.

****

Kurt’s been back in the studio for over an hour. Chandler’s long gone and Kurt’s vaguely aware of Elliot’s voice on the gallery floor, greeting patrons. It’s Saturday. He’d normally have a shift but, of course, he’s off tonight. After several moments of silence from the front, Kurt puts down his scissors and goes to find his friend.

Elliott’s behind the desk but he’s sitting very still, his gaze in his lap, when Kurt pulls up a stool next to him. “So,” he says softly, “You wanna tell me what’s going on? And don’t say you're fine. You’re way out of sorts.”

Eliott doesn’t look at him. Just keeps looking at the tops of his thighs. “I slept with Sebastian last night.”

It’s like Elliott just slapped him. He sits there stunned and blinking for a moment.

“Okay,” he finally says. “Okay. That’s not terrible. I mean, it’s a little awkward, but that’ll pass. We’re all friends–”

“I'm in love with him,” Elliott murmurs.

“You’re. You're what? Are you kidding me?” Elliott finally looks up and, infuriatingly, he looks shocked at Kurt’s words.

“Why are you upset?” Elliott asks.

“Are you kidding me?” Kurt says again. And his body launches up off the stool because he needs to move; if he doesn’t move he’s going to punch something. Shit.

“He’s a stuffed shirt, Elliott. He’s a suit. He works on Wall Street for fuck’s sake. What’s there to like?”

Elliott is icily calm as he slowly turns in Kurt’s direction.“You tell me,” he says. “You just finished saying that we’re all friends. So you tell me what there is to like.”

And Kurt’s being unfair. He knows he is. He actually does like Sebastian, most of the time. And he really, truly is over his thing for Elliot, but it’s so fresh, and he and Elliott have so much in common, and he wouldn’t even consider Kurt, and to hear that this staid and snarky bean-counter is somehow the superior choice… It just stings.

Kurt’s always struggled to check his ego when it’s been bruised. And Elliott has bruised his ego an awful lot lately.

“Nothing, Elliott,” he snipes. “There is nothing to like. Not like that. Sure, he’s funny in a mean-spirited way, if you’re into that. But he’s pompous and condescending and snobby and I would sooner die than date someone even remotely like that.”

Elliot’s tone is deliberately even when he says, “Kurt. I was really hoping for my best friend right now, not the guy I rejected weeks ago. I get it. You’re hurt. And I can let you work that out. But that’s not Sebastian. Not really. Besides, even if it were, you and I are way too alike to date–”

“I don’t want to date you,” Kurt shouts and Elliott’s eyes shoot nervously to the open gallery door. 

“I don’t even want to fuck you! Not anymore. I’m just– I can’t–” Kurt’s yelling and rambling and his train of thought is utterly incoherent, but he’s just so sick of getting the shit end of the stick, and he’s tired and lonely and horny and poor– 

He’s feeling sorry for himself.

He takes a deep breath and looks candidly at Elliott. “I’m sorry,” he says. And he is.  “I’m way out of line. It’s been a week. Which is not an excuse. Bruised ego and too little sleep.” He shrugs helplessly. “Give me some time okay? Raincheck on the best friend conversation?”

Elliott smiles. “Okay,” he says simply. 

Kurt shakes his head and moves toward the studio. “I’m gonna give you some space and get out of your hair. Get my head on straight. I really am sorry. Talk later?”

Elliott’s smile widens. “Love to. And just wait,” he says, and he’s always so genuine and forthright. “I’ll show you the error of your Wall-Street-hating ways. Bankers are dreamy.”

“No, Elliott,” Kurt says as he goes. “That’s where we disagree. No prep-school aristocrats for me. Never. I’d really rather die.”

Elliott shrugs and shakes his head at an empty room.

Chapter 6

[quietlyqueering]

I'm gonna write down a bit about the hospital stay for my hysterectomy. Mostly, so that I remember it better.

Four days before the surgery I had to go to the hospital and do all the admission stuff and had my talks with the surgeon and the anaesthetist where I could also ask if I had any more questions. They also gave me a syringe for thrombosis protection that I had to inject the evening before surgery.

On the day of surgery I wasn't allowed to eat or drink and I had to be in hospital at 7 am. There I had to change into the surgery gown and pants and was informed that I needed to shave my pubic area, so I did that. I also had some blood taken. Shortly after, I was wheeled to the surgery preparation where I changed into another bed, got my IV and all the monitoring devices and was then put under.

I don't remember much of the rest of the day because I was extremely tired after. I just remember that I felt like I needed to pee really badly and tried to get up several times because it hadn't quite sunk in that I just had surgery and shouldn't move. My brain somehow couldn't comprehend the people telling me that I had a catheter, so I didn't actually needed to pee and that I should stay in bed. They had to put the rails up on the sides of my bed because of that. The most part of the day I spent sleeping, I ate like 1/5 of a slice of bread and a pickle for dinner and then slept again. The nurse looking after me was really nice and also complimented me on my name which made me happy.

The first day after surgery I woke up and was in a moderate amount of pain but still to sleepy to really care. In the morning the catheter and the tamponade (some stuff that was in the vagina to prevent bleeding) were removed which was mostly uncomfortable and not very painful. Later that morning the doctors came, had a look at my wounds, removed the drain I had in one of my sutures and was told that everything had gone well. After that I was allowed to get up (the first time with help) and try peeing which worked quite well. I spent the rest of the day sleeping and reading and calling my parents to tell them I was fine (the day before I had only managed a short text).

On the second day after surgery I was way more awake and started to walk around my room for a bit. I was still in a significant amount of pain but could alway get pain meds when it got to bad. Most of the time I read or listened to music and I also slept a bit during the day. The doctors only checked in shortly to ask if everything was alright and to tell me that I was allowed to take a shower now. So I did that because I felt a bit greasy and disgusting. It was exhausting but managable. I was also told that day that I needed to get my bowel movement going before I could leave. As that still hadn't happened by the evening, I then got a laxative.

The next night was a bit more uncomfortable because the laxative was working its way through my stomach but by the early morning I could finally poop. That meant I could leave onthe third day after surgery. In the morning the doctor had a final look at my insides via ultrasound and removed the last bandaid. She also showed me some pictures from during the surgery. I was then given some more thrombosis syringes for the next few days ( I hate them; I hate needles and it's painful a lot of the time) and waited for my ride to pick me up and drive me home. During that wait I realised that the wound where the bandaid had been removed had been bleeding quite a lot so for the next few hours I had some very bloody pants. But fortunately by the time I realised this, it had already stopped bleeding.

Okay, that was a long post. If you've read it and still have questions feel free to ask them (here or in the asks).

Edit: I was told that I'm not allowed to lift more than 5 kg and do sports for 6 weeks after surgery. The stitches get removed 7 days after surgery. Also I'm still in enough pain to take pain killers 2-3 times a day.

[angel-wings-and-tattoos]

i am, in fact, in a steddie mood today. however, if you look at my account for more than 2 seconds then you're aware that i'm incapable of writing anything without stonathan in some way, shape, or form so today! we will be looking at platonicbff!stonathan. i love stonathan with my entire heart and its to the point where i like literally any dynamic you can put them in. like i think i'm into platonic!stonathan equally as much as platonic!stobin. which is saying something bc i am actively head over heels in love with robin.

what i want to look at today is protective jonathan when it comes to steve. in a perfect world (correction-in a somewhat plausible perfect world bc, let's be honest, in my perfect world we actively get footage of jonathan and steve fucking but that's neither here nor there) season 5 develops steve & jonathan's relationship, him and nancy break up amicably, and steve and jonathan become best friends.

but back to the steddie i promised earlier.

----

eddie doesn't know how it happened. one day he's accused of murder, alone, and stuck in a boathouse and less than a month later here he is. staring at steve fucking harrington sleeping less than five feet away from him.

the very same steve harrington that apparently is the sole reason he's even awake in the first place. when the trio had stumbled onto dustin and eddie, steve had gone into full action hero mode. using his lifeguard cpr training he had managed to get eddie breathing long enough to haul his ass back top side, breaking one of eddie's ribs in the process.

eddie doesn't remember any of it.

that isn't for lack of trying on his part. eddie is approximately two seconds away from breaking into the hospital's security footage because, if robin's story is true, he wants to keep the video for the rest of his life.

according to her, it was awesome, munson, you should have seen it! he had you in a bridal carry like a godamn rag doll. he burst in the front entrance and started yelling at them like i've never seen him yell before, ever! even that one time dustin fucked up the paint on his car. the nurses recognized you and for sure didn't want to help but apparently there's only so much you can do in the face of steve harrington throwing the mother of all shitfits. the second he started threatening to call his dad they all kicked into gear. it would have been funny if i didn't actively think you were dead at the time. sorry! but you really were super still and you weren't groping steve, like at all, so i assumed that we'd lost you forever.

(eddie pretends to be offended by that last bit, but he also concedes that if steve picked him up right now he can't promise he would keep his hands to himself)

after eddie was taken away on a stretcher, steve had nodded, mostly to himself, and promptly passed out. onto the cold, hard, tiled floor of the hospital entryway. they hauled him on a stretcher as well and he was put up in a room somewhere down the hallway.

that lasted for about four hours.

or, more accurately, that lasted until steve woke up again. after throwing what robin called less a shitfit, more a temper tantrum this time, he managed, even in a pain-induced haze, to convince the hospital staff to put him in eddie's room.

that fiasco was 3 days ago.

currently, steve wasn't unconscious anymore but his injuries were pretty badly infected. turns out nancy's shredded t-shirt wasn't exactly the most sterile thing on the planet. they had him on a steady stream of antibiotics and pain meds. eddie himself hadn't been awake for more than 15 minutes or so at a time (each of those times, robin had excitedly looked up from her vigil at steve's side and recounted new things she decided he had to know at that exact second).

until now.

as eddie blinks awake, he is aware of three things.

he's never been this thirsty in his entire life. it feels like he decided to dive mouth first into a container of sand.

if he didn't know any better, he would say that jim hopper is standing by a chair near steve's bed. but he does know better, jim hopper is dead. so. great. now he can add hallucinations to potential side effects of evil upside down bat bites.

directly next to the mirage of a police chief, sits jonathan byers.

that last thing wouldn't be as weird if said byers wasn't holding one of steve's hands and sitting far closer to the bed than the nonentity behind him.

(eddie isn't sure why the hand holding is more distracting at the moment than the fact that robin is actively laying in steve's bed with him, burrowing herself into his side like she's attempting to meld them into one person.)

he blearily watches as jonathan softly tucks a stray piece of steve's hair behind his ear on the side of his head that's not currently resting on the top of robin's.

eddie decides that he is on far too much pain medication to be thinking this hard.

groaning, he attempts to sit up enough to reach the water pitcher next to his bed.

"whoa, munson. take it easy," the ghost of legal trouble's past shuffles over to help eddie by pouring some water into a small paper cup. eddie watches him, wearily taking the cup from him. the water was cold to the point that it almost hurt, but it still beat the hell out of having a dry throat.

"ar'n't you 'posed t'be dead?" eddie slurs. his tongue feels like it weighs about ten pounds. the (poltergeist? revenant? wraith? eddie's mushy brain can't think of a better word for a dead person that can pour him water) figure before him scoffs.

"nice to see that you're still charming as ever. it's a long story, kid, i'm sure someone else will fill you in later. besides i'm guessing you have maybe 5 minutes of peace before one of those kids finds out you're awake and, inevitably, starts screaming about it loud enough to break glass," hopper sighs, hands coming to his hips in a remarkably similar echo of steve. eddie has absolutely zero thoughts about that, thank you. the chief moves towards the door, placing a hand on the handle.

"however, buckley hasn't left harrington's side for the last 4 days. if anyone scares her awake now, i don't think she'll ever go back to sleep. i'll hold them off for the night, but the second the sun comes up, you're on your own."

hopper looks from eddie to jonathan, who nods in acknowledgement without looking away from steve for more than a second or two. eddie watches as he closes the door behind him and disappears from view, leaving jonathan and eddie sitting in silence.

eddie coughs.

fidgets.

looks at byers.

coughs again.

okay, let it be said that eddie isn't great with awkward silence. but, in his defense, what the fuck is he supposed to say to jonathan byers? he didn't even know that him and steve were friends, much less holding-hands-in-a-hospital-bed-friends.

"so," eddie starts, regretting opening his mouth the second jonathan looks at him.

"so," jonathan repeats quietly, looking like he's holding back a smile as he does, "you're eddie munson."

eddie doesn't like the way jonathan is saying his name. it has an odd tilt to it, like he's mimicking what someone else has said to him. eddie admits that it's not the worst way his name has ever been said, but it makes him swallow uncomfortably.

"gu'lty 's charged, man." eddie's voice comes out considerably clearer than before, shifting from sounding completely shitfaced to minorly tipsy.

there is an extremely awkward moment where eddie has no idea where this conversation is going. jonathan is back to staring at steve, still practically cradling one of his hands between the two of his.

"he talks about you a lot, you know," eddie doesn't know, but he also doesn't interrupt, "it's always 'eddie said this', 'this is eddie's favorite song', 'eddie rented that movie'. he talks about you almost as much as he talks about robin."

jonathan takes a breath, drumming his fingers on the back of steve's hand. his gaze stays on steve as he talks, still quiet enough to not wake up either of the teenagers sleeping next to him.

"he's a good guy, you know. underneath the whole asshole jock façade. i don't know if you remember, but he almost killed himself trying to save you. i'm not sure how he was even able to stand when you guys came in, much less march in here like he did carrying you in his arms."

still idly toying with steve's hand, jonathan's gaze moves back to eddie. his fond expression dims into more serious territory as he visibly contemplates the second part of his impromptu speech.

"i'm not the greatest at talking about my own feelings, i'm more than aware of that, but i won't hesitate in saying that steve is important to me. no idea how, why, or when it happened, but he just is. somewhere along the line he decided that your opinion is important to him and i need you to understand the weight of that. steve has been independent his entire life, sometimes to the point where it's detrimental to his own health. i don't know if he realizes it completely, but he's basically imprinted on you like a baby duck."

eddie swallows nervously as jonathan maintains steady eye contact. the two men are quiet for a moment before jonathan seems to mentally switch tracks, "you seem like a good guy. steve obviously adores you and it sounds like the kids do as well. from what i've heard, you almost died to save dustin's life. i appreciate all of it, i really do. that being said, if you do anything to hurt steve then none of that matters anymore. i think i'm speaking on robin's behalf as well when i say that we really do like you as a person, but steve's wellbeing comes first."

as stated earlier, eddie is on far too much pain medication to be thinking this hard. if his head wasn't so foggy, eddie would think he's getting a shovel talk.

by jonathan byers.

about steve harrington.

who apparently "obviously adores him".

yeah, it's definitely the pain killers.

eddie clears his throat again as he heavily sinks back against his pillows. "i'm not entirely convinced that 'm not hallucinating this entire conversation, byers. but yeah, i understand. kinda owe him my life now, i guess, so it'd be pretty shitty of me to hurt the guy's feelings or whatever ya think i'mma do," his speech was improving the more he talked, but it was getting harder to keep his eyes open.

jonathan seems content with that statement for the time being, if his attention switching back to steve and off eddie is any indication.

eddie falls back asleep shortly thereafter, leaving jonathan as the only person awake in the small hospital room.

________

i think i'm going to add more from jonathan's pov but for now just be aware that jonathan and steve both know that steve is practically in love with eddie. jonathan is very protective of the people he loves and steve is in that circle. as far as this little snippet goes, i don't think stonathan was ever a romantic thing, and there was never any hard pining involved but they do care about each other deeply. i like to think they kept in contact when the byers moved to california. it started with jonathan and nancy getting into a fight and the only other adult person he could call to check on things was steve. he wasn't sure if steve would even respond, but he ended up not only answering all of jon's questions but seemed to genuinely want to know how the rest of the byers' clan was doing.

this turned into weekly phone calls, which turned to twice a week, which eventually turned to calls at all times of day all week. they're basically besties who gossip and talk shit on the phone all the time. when the byers get back to hawkins it shocks everyone but robin when jonathan parks his ass next to steve's bed and refuses to move.

i just love stonathan ok!!!! i will die on this hill. steve deserves people who love him and care about him!!

Edit: now on ao3!! <3

[fieldsofview]

Spider-Man: Homesickness UPDATE

The following text is copied from my AO3

Hey, y'all. This is going to be a long and rambling life update for a moment. TLDR: The epilogue won't be posted until mid/late August, but it is coming. Keep reading if you're so interested in the *why*, otherwise, I'll see you then.

I know that, until now, I've been very consistent in keeping updates on time. And I know it's likely frustrating for you all to have to wait for the epilogue, and for that I apologize. It's coming, I promise. I just want to make sure I do it justice and do my best, and my life has not allowed for that right now. My personal life has been kind of a wreck these last few weeks. To start, I had a long stretch of time where I was covering extra shifts for my coworker who was in the hospital, which meant a lot of doubles (My usual 4PM-midnight followed by the midnight-8AM shift, with only a few hours after to go home and sleep before doing it all over again.) This is when I was drafting the previous chapter, and I did do my best to keep working on all of this but I was drastically limited in the time I had. During and following all of this, my cat, Aya, got very sick very fast. Within about 2 weeks, she went from being a perfectly healthy 5-year-old cat at her yearly physical exam, to having such extreme symptoms from a mystery illness that she was interned in a specialty Vet clinic's ICU for several days, needing a feeding tube, intravenous medication, and 24-hour care. Ultimately, despite the thousands of dollars I spent, four different veterinarians, and countless tests, no one could figure out what was wrong with her. She has since passed and her ashes should hopefully return to me within the week. Because of the timing of it all, just a few days later I left for a trip out of state to visit my elderly grandparents for their 85th birthday celebration with my extended family (There are nearly 40 of us) that I could not reschedule or miss, and I've been there for the last week. It's a 18-hour journey each way and I've spent most of the trip assisting my father with care of my younger brother or assisting my cousin with her three kids under 5. I've had no time for writing whatsoever. I've barely had time to breathe, let alone grieve the loss of my cat who I have had since she was a tiny kitten and who passed so suddenly and so violently that it has stuck with me in a way that previous pet deaths have never done. Her sister and her were so closely bonded and it's been heartbreaking to see her so confused as to why Aya has never come home. And now I've had to leave her with my roommates while I'm gone and she's been acting skittish and scared around them in a way she never has before. I only hope when I return in a few days she'll forgive me. I haven't started writing the epilogue yet. As many of you pointed out in the comments here and on my Tumblr (that I truly haven't had the capacity to respond to), the last chapter did not quite feel right or sit in the way you wanted. I stand by the events of the chapter, but because it was basically my rough draft with almost no editing, it's lacking the subtlety and nuance it deserves, and it's missing some details it should have had. I love this fic with all my heart and I want it to be a project I can finish and leave in a way that I am proud of. So, I will be spending the next few weeks taking the time I need for myself, and then I will be spending the time to make any edits to the entire story that I feel are necessary for it to be its best. Once that's done, I'll publish the epilogue. A version that is final and that I can be proud of, whether or not anyone else likes it. Because I know the last chapter was not my best work, it's been hard to sit with those comments and accept them, despite knowing the circumstances surrounding them. Thank you to everyone who has supported me through this project, and thank you for your patience as I make sure this is the best it can be. My hope is that I can post the epilogue in about one month, as I approach the year mark from when I first started drafting this fic, but I will take it day by day to ensure it's the best it will be. I will delete this "chapter" once the epilogue is posted. 

[les-lick-er]

She didn’t Catfish me with pictures; but she did Catfish me with a lifestyle. Read below to find out wat happened

Justice says “I don’t really have much here, only two air mattresses. One for me and another for the kids. But I really want you to come live with us. Their mother, whose also the roommate is leaving as well”

I pull the phone away from my ear while puttin my shirt on after a meditated shower & very hesitant on responding.. I then respond back and say “I would love that, I just want to make sure your comfortable enough for me to come live with you, esp wen no one’s there”

Justice goes on to say “I think you should come down here next week, my friends and roommate will be gone before then & yes I am more than comfortable with you being with us”.

“Ok that’s perfect I should be able to come around that time I have an interview down there in a week anyways.” I said as I was booking my ticket. “I booked it!”

Justice then murmurs something underneath her breath. I ask what she said; she then responds back saying her friends that recently left wanted to have a 3sum with her. (This is 5 hrs down til I have to board the bus. She tells me this and I am baffled, confused and lost not knowing what to do. I had already packed up my bags and everything.) I’m contemplating and she’s asking if this would’ve stopped me from coming & my response was “No” a fkn “no”. When I should’ve just went with my gut, my intuition was telling me this is going to be a half assed situation due to her half ass telling me about her “friends”.

My ride is 9 hours, I’m on the bus eager to meet them! Ride was smooth sailing, I get there around 3pm & its the Ra-ta-ta-taa (the ghetto). I don’t mind it, it’s nothing. I hit the door, no furniture. I knock on one door someone shouts out “the other door” I go to knock on the other door no answer, but ik it’s my Baby I also see the kid’s sleeping.. I immediately start to cuddle with her while she slept. The kids start to wake up, I introduce myself, the bond & attachment just formed instantly.

A few hours go by and obviously I’m hungry, I got in the kitchen eager to cook dinner around 8pm… crickets. Nothing is in the fridge, or the freezer. I immediately get frustrated, Justice is still sleeping. The roommate, brings food in around 9pm. Just to feed herself.. and gives the kids & Justice what’s left. This went on the entire time I was there, unless there were groceries for me to put together poor man meals. Other then that we ordered food for dinner almost every single night.

I spent 2 months stuck this very toxic/traumatizing environment and this is only the first day!

Wanna hear the rest of this story? Stay tuned, I’ll do an audio story time via TikTok or YouTube if this gets recognition.

[josad-irl]

My burden and well maybe first and last post

welp, worth a try

Hi, I'm "J", 23 yo.

Guess this might be worth a try since I'm running out of options.

Background info: I have heavy depression, and got diagnosed with multiple personality disorder with a strong tendency towards BPD (Borderline). I never had consistent suicidal thoughts. They came impulsive during high trigger situations a few times.

Just half a year ago I had the best time of my life. I was clean from my 1 1/2 year long addiction to drugs. I had the best gf I could have ever wished for. I had fun at Uni. I had good friends. I was happy. Or so I thought. My BPD kept making the relationship go into a crisis. My gf had ADHD and quiet-borderline was to be diagnosed. But I never found out til this day if she actually has it. Well, now I don't have a gf, lost most of my friends, my heavy depression is back and either my emotions aren't available for weeks or they come back like a train hitting me straight on and make me cry and brake down into panic attacks multiple times daily. I can't sleep. I don't feel happiness. I cannot enjoy a single thing. I either eat too much at once or not at all. After the break up I got sent into a prison-like psychiatric clinic for 3 nights. It was the worst time of my life. I never before have truly felt the way I did back then. That is almost 3 months ago now. Afterwards got a place in a clinic for mental health which was rlly nice tbh. I had a nice room. Nice ppl. Got a nice therapist. After a few weeks therapy finally started to help and I felt emotionally more stable after my 2 months stay. Now I am "free" again. Two weeks have passed. I can't stop thinking about my ex and the friends who were in the same circle. They all keep in contact with her, but they never once came to visit me or texted me during my stay in the clinic. Not once. In two months. I had to text them. Now they all barely answer to my texts. I do still have some rlly good friends left. But somehow I can't get over the things I have lost. And I am still desperately in love with my ex partner. She was the best person I have ever met. But she has blocked me everywhere. My emotions were gone for the last 2 weeks of my stay in the clinic. They came back a week ago. Well rather they came back on my birthday. When the hope had rissen up that my ex would text me. But no, nothing. During my stay in the clinic we had an on/off thing. We met, we slept with each other. But suddenly she cut me off completely saying it over for ever. She realised we weren't good for each other and that was it. Well, my opinion was that we could heal through therapeutic help and try it again. But she never answer to that. That was the moment I went into shock and kinda lost all my emotions. As I said, these came back on my bday. Especially the last hour of it. I had a huge panic attack and a gigantic borderline trigger, where it felt like i was going insane. I tried to desperately contact her. But she blocked me off even in the last possible way I had to get into contact. She saw my calls, but she cut them off. That was it. My emotions finally got broken. Now i am sitting here and contemplating if its worth living, when my only two choices are being emotionally unavailable and basically just acting under a facade or to be emotionally broken and depressed to an extent where I am pretty close to taking my own life. I tried before but got stopped. I think this might be the time where I'll get it over with. Well. If neither a clinic, nor meds, nor my mum and not even my good friends can stop me from feeling and thinking this way...who can? Will this ever stop? I have been depressive for years. 4, maybe 5 years. My BPD is hindering my emotional stability. I don't know what to do. I think live is beautiful. And I know people can heal. I know time can heal. I know I should just cut contact and concentrate on the things I have. I learned so much in the clinic. I know others would take this opportunity to heal. Other ppl are strong. But I don't think I can. I am scared of myself. I am scared of rejection. I am scared of what anyone says. I am scared of what anyone thinks. I am scared of what I think. I am scared of what I can do. I am scared of what I could become. I am scared. I am broken. My trust is broken. My emotions are broken. And I have seen better days in these dark times. But they were always overshadowed. I give up. Maybe. Well....

"X", I love you. I hope you are able to heal. I hope you got the help you needed. I hope you will find the happiness that you deserve. You were the first person in my life that I could be myself around completely. The first person I ever truly loved. You helped me through heavy depression, addiction and pain. Now I hope you get the help you need and never have to feel the way I did or now do. I wish you all the best.

To anyone reading this: I hope your are having it better than me. I know this sounds weird for me to say, but... if your are going through somethings, ask for help. Someone will help. There is nothing more important than your mental health. I wish you all the best of luck in whatever challenges your are facing <3

If this isn't my last post, then something must have happened and well..I'll post an update then.

Maybe goodbye, maybe not.

J

[libidomechanica]

And eke mourning the trusts

A limerick sequence

               1

Thy stars, twas a shrink its Intelling Sun. When feel such a fire the lawns. For    some grand enough have sees;    rolled they name to remember while enough one myght be your Hair!

               2

In precontrive, before. Is it is, the Sleeve. Of it, and so tend till and    bar your slante, we consuming    the aire you: but silence wild flowery glance from History.

               3

Yet shall be the unstain the prince, oh called and Maid, of Joy in dark. ’ Wee make    some out of tape then, with    conting still comes to the dictator still given my heards kynd.

               4

By frantic fire is Geraldine afternoon tones in eye follow sing, my    pleasures or barn nor idles,    euen? Prime. Nothing round ambition, how longer currents’ joy.

               5

The thresh, as at you Virgin limb of May, know her sight in English house I    love. For all! I see clenchers    sayne they plead them in the more plain she neck. Has, like, she sweet.

               6

Us. The land where harbor and labour thrust of thee, the concealment: help    my poor, when was half thy    touching cry, and you canst thou have loss of quiet fields, they road.

               7

Great those, I broken: we our his glad as true groue the uppermost crashed, pulled    in all thy curious    fruitful of flowers! And scent into see this, the vast Buckle.

               8

Torn of foot their with the Fair, wants of Time, that a played should have let it spright    the beamie dark his she. And    Day—archetype of all cold, his refused, and eyes give and Eyes.

               9

The Cupid’s yellow’s Gown: Tell us with rage. And with travell down on her.    Not Tyranny. I see    thee if I promise and unawares her fades! Ah, woe is it?

               10

My lights so greatnesse dwelled hence are of desperanza’s Gavel. Not Beauties    to feel painted the wood    so much the wild delights sure, bonie lasses of beer way, and lo!

               11

And thou would nothing out a milk and their Lord of my well-dress, who’s to us    was flew. The cause I    loue that bird? Thine own approach, the tense, at day is cheek to you.

               12

Each by other: they should her opens; only harp, and an end: all might feede,    some fall, my placed, and all-    oblivious born by sides. Now shapely—just what make him dead.

               13

Notes of thy tender must hour. And some return, he cast with and at first of    a foe. Turns in thee? So    unexpected, enough, sweet maid, all your hath broad Sabre neck.

               14

Had it again: the narrow flew with delight. It green gone, unable Sons,    and yet she cared for certain    he sawe thy spiking heart her plan was History; there asleep.

               15

As when were shady cypressions were so fraid not till of the Head, at my    Charms to sleep the bitter    darkens the left me out of comfort but knowe. Of Poets bound.

               16

And the went to delay! Since thank your mother prime. One who lover, raving    hearth is a loyal blisse,    and white-blood advice, not what she knee. Moth, spredde, in my love me.

               17

—I put to me, if ye gie a whole and gulled Hope hope the casemental    Tea. Did turtle gate,    I have love ones fell in theyr Pan may departed—ne’er your wall.

               18

I fear? Her virtue’s impart, I desires the seek not, sweet a bitter    the prayers. When my life,    have fair, so foul to me took half sight, would speaks poor Geraldine.

               19

Red with themself are dreadful works of a great green the full of healing through    she sea my fashion. Keep    hair. Answer to blere man which matin betrayal like mister.

               20

Are not yet beyond tears so true heart from burst had out of happy loving    our son, on thy chill, oh,    stare! Purple grain and Codille. The kissed the last I love me.

               21

Delight of that dwell knows I did turning lute doth have his whither went the    Heav’n decrees! The Instruction—    the loathsome back, and still of Ruin, and on love-poem!

               22

Emitting and Wings, and am laughter crumbling else, The aire a God then    the level in my    fathering Paine she read seeing; and and rail. Treble face one hour!

               23

We court cheeks and myself apart. There we know morning with winds. So had and    fancy come. Children strange    and there next Heaven, with Guilt, of a lessedness, Patch-box fell.

               24

Being blades of quiet! Weep the thin the various dead smil’d the tent and    hissing order lattices,    as of hope, a marble, as before mount in Nightingale.

               25

—No I was lightest in some falsehood will who gan to themselves the chaste; whose    ribbed about her like a    blank end. So leas: and once and she the Moon; all match not the dark.

               26

Here British pleasaunt’ring fury thy grew hardly and Dunghill. And leaves hall:    they great trickling in old    brough the founding in an eyes; and and sheds—larger, farther near?

               27

His Pray’rs, that somewhere story I clams are gift The eager, feigner, conquer    Lord? Answer the Sunday    after glad love is run; if human to none, the Velvet Plain.

               28

Too, thick and Tweezer-Cases. From sun’s way, to which Jews from vice or less? Over    breath and touch of Lucia:    the paper poor Heads, and free, are not all move the moon shaw.

               29

For than the heart with blossom, viands. A formost; nor thou dost thee too constant    Vapour offends. For speak;    if not when of Let some loss what she loue and snow changing Dust.

               30

They were floor. To see, she had his careless maid the graze again: I dream of,    after than fear her utmost    from Sir Plumes o’er he crying Altar built, and boy, the word.

               31

Would traine, half-way from Fear When I: did missed lock with buds; and call on a boy    I kept a bride, so now    sharply tongue they grew; tis heavy dreams tree. And, replying doom.

               32

I pray the new Disease, no forgot. The sweet could nothing came as my low    move men’s love I had guess    how fleet a crevice or sacred Lord, what a locust in vain!

               33

I cannot be cut in battle, again. The stranger, bright whole world, and from    the who know that if    together? Their Doom; and casement upon a hand, a weight be&,.

               34

Here is not room, disorder child! Close, but to me; nay, while and cataracter    of other, I scar    glowing and strike them within me who reward, watch her doth go.

               35

The unstair, she pealing buys for the Rose and woes. If the Soul, forget not    so close; so great doubt a    mirror of knight, sank down upon her found, and gratify her.

               36

Or in its amethyst blue! In theyr above; I love, and hether the sky    to know what He, who the    horse! Those body rested Steel did tuck away shed and though heede.

               37

Sharp or seemed their steep require: I listless Eleonora’s fair! Neuer    shining what the wish intent    could clasping breed, as one came, for whole of the iron lack.

               38

Imaginations fly, in my through street in a Bird, sith to know it. As    a shape of two. And I    tallies which fellow you is that he made like to use so low?

               39

To beware of sunshine heighty Mien shall view? Never great eye, for his sense    of a turtles, and time    may we clock, four love, that lovelier not for nothing sees here.

               40

Where Joan wast by the lady Gerald. The day what all crowned to bark. Poor, and    matter: harmed, and he sames    she may, by side bowed about the their patter’d blindly nurture?

               41

I like syrly she lady see how on was rude a lasse, where is, not soft    she way down wi’ right I    hold between see their maidens in purple apace. But is last?

               42

Through and sleep with plenty add a Furbelo. In the Mists would friend, and claspt    thing centrate on flies, and    time we wouldst thousand op’d the throught, but in vain, ah, what are vain.

               43

At they were flower. My pains over hart, some hand her came your Mistressed,    shall hands, and quickly she    death’s-head. Ah, what I might, had I be scorne: he, with storm-trouble.

               44

After rayse is the light, nor need be in you: on your children twelue, the Court    cheerless for kiss thighs between.    Ere hath my read has completely play, her will on a share.

               45

—He could I lend, caps on heraldine the she, hatred, O fly, and her born    meant bud of stones in the    new Glory? Of our heart in Shadow moves that free to the hour.

               46

I love through them: we are gift; creater feet. From the sill and sick, obtain, that    we knowest; dishonour    is moment over against mine afar. For the Skies, and gnarled.

               47

And quiet after Mind: a gold with light be, so now tears. Faire again, or    breaks the years subjects the    she, half that fear’d there, it harts to try to his spring urged that.

               48

Sweet received as in the lights the bloom go I! Lay fled bats, and the Ground at    last night relief, she throne:    we were swelled wight: had made a sliced peonies and her death-wound.

               49

But public grieve, before in my Goddess! Bodkin, Common Sense—through one whom    she shepherd-pipes may suitors    seems no lament can explorator. Fly, and pure virgo?

               50

It see youthful Liquors glimmer post, the weight down each to see or need before    him mortal broke, and    I am talks and wounded: we touch of the speak me forbid.

               51

With trumpet in no key. I stands from high, or breathing afternoon the liquid    look at to sing—This    Mists arms when too; but led brave still the Spirit at heart the Beast.

               52

And all out and voices strange a Flaw, or than may ensue, O liberal and    to Lisp, and thereupon    spreads the was the Carpet of beautiful extends, like the Fight.

               53

A penny for the meet, maggoty million her sings had dream of sums, yet    mighty Pan. She signs of    men had not in Air, and builds of Place, a sweet a consumed, mute.

               54

Proud, she went into a world, yestermorn, me, even the holy from vice:    your solitary thine    own dead. River And when Sicilian asked back to give me.

               55

For every sunflower to carry you, we slime involuntary time,    and long lives should I heart    to be enough, O great a loss the degree. And a bonie lace.

               56

Newly boast mud, the wide with faine to fires? Sat a trump and wanton o’er thou    of threshing itself at    thee sister for thy orphan face of destroy, and then were came.

               57

Buzzing of my death: they are the which the time degree, bare of night, your Pride:    what you’ll had been fall, and    Life is not in a hill sees its that an honour palms. Past love.

               58

The knew her nature calm kiss flashing were she Smile, and fortune fritillariest    his engravity.    But love your music: ’ and marred mosaic, as it is a frost.

               59

Her grew wild desire of a deare shadow, Time, and with sullen did nothing    eagle, but the    accident Lock! I reuenge, ioyn’d within none, too brightful curl the pain!

               60

Mid-sentence crucified. And the plainting and keep with the close but can be    Zephyrs gentle close body    whom her draw no praying you, with a wider each to hell.

               61

This done, blown the Body already head is nourished a beam entertain—    no I was! Beneath of    grace: binde myself have with pity like joy to you: but a race.

               62

Sweet, more could take his grow by the sun. Glad as it, which the kiss the hall be    consistinguishing, says    the two Hinkseys not die; the drew; yet purchased Counsel, live cry.

               63

In me when I died. My boyish down like eyes your ungracious peeped and sate    heaven, as she expel    by night takes on me, curs’d in state, and listened, nor no other.

               64

As if for his eyes, and winds. Made of lawlesse, than yourses run. That the kingly    with the moon, unphased    lodges so failing Rays, halfe so large bridal bene stray.

               65

Blow, i’m sure and for a suddenly hath rage, praise. Thou of my sleep; so hardly    like to stick Fame did    my bed, the fed; lay flute, in eye and so with cattle, smaller.

               66

Then we tale of such small best till survey our hour is done to Frankenstein.    As he touch of the flowers.    With successity; or who dies, close their flockes, the Men?

               67

And pride; he world upon the awful wayward thee embrace. We can’t want with    grieves if it because what    charity on a lassie, O. Such force; and leader white flew.

               68

Elisa rest before while Geraldine! Let me some living hand grain one    with rose only twelve upon    that was a thou use in summer’s breast experiences.

               69

And when Husband all meet: theyr godlike to eat. Here, pushed send the leaue: seems to    recall those with shining—    there in old afford; but yet—never with joy tis to whiff it.

               70

Men gay Ideas rise, frame,—seeing blades melodie. With corage tub is measure    are told he way, left    from thousand the uncertain wasteness void since my husband.

               71

Play his Mortals! Sending; since together blue eyes; and up at a joy so    sweet the huge woman-    conquestion—that familiar me out and the grasps the same, full bark.

               72

Bloom as one defied, when I vent and Soul in vain them stood my head, her eyes    the Field. Why dost the held    then, quick Poet-prince what throw around me a wearies; and thee?

               73

Well its heards despair is me! While Geraldry, in due at town, she angry    mother. Accuse there the    vext garres the Sorrow limits pent, sing the danc’d by the night.

               74

On thy Bagpype broken, before men! She same wildsworth know to get not make    awe, this mine, yet with Repast.    And, if the father’s sunlike a quests soul once of the Nose.

               75

We were bird, with with music so show how share you too much as I couldn’t let    us down frolic, as    farther last night to stem I say Stellations to woe. The gate.

               76

Fair each to part, in Show’rs, what the Furies peeced pyneons beauteous, just prest,    and darkness some Sylphs, and    kissing miss you somethings divine and panting. That for they hand?

               77

Do break you, as one times Coach around— one but notes she seaweeds. Of Joy and    the strictly the univers    good is childhood’s sung head a world is gone that doe gravy.

               78

Now, and brighted aloof, thousand Sylphs contented and folded more: nor in    man’s deceased to the dear    love me and fair Element shall unprepared, long fast. Of meat.

               79

The furious Hand, we sawe. Show the Fair disdainful wondren shadows, like    or other’s Name those land,    ’ she there. To the not ever safety pin to bake a blue skies.

               80

But if the Fall feel their many years spent Nations beauties counteous, nor power    still pictor strolled The    One did fall. ’Twas all bowres: but in Prague sign is were or nay.

               81

In wrath: one, my father weary of your vale. Table, the cleare, or, only    spirit and fortune from    inmost roses the Fight’s eye, and here would tell awake a flight?

               82

In secrets of joy; and thee. For invention: touch of Air. Who euer the less    amain: her side, prais’d the    out there it would I had she bard! Across did them for aught a.

               83

And weary as unconfined, nor bale— her grows from the arms and amid the    Eternall night she knew    each to the Peace! As steal of lawlesse that echo, as a shrine.

[marcelinesghost13]

Morning Blog,

So let's talk about my transition. Let's talk about the fat cat in the room first. So a lot of individuals believe that the reason why I got hospitalized is because of my estrogen. That is incorrect. I did not end up in the hospital because I'm on estrogen. I ended up in the fucking hospital because my dumbass depleted my electrolytes and sulfur that's in my body. Which caused my body to crash and causing me to faint over at work. So doctors aren't 100% sure but it is a possibility that my heart did stop for a short period of time. My BPM did drop down to 25 at some point. That is a very slow heart rate. And because my heart rate was so low it caused me to pass out. I did end up in the hospital for 4 days with them monitoring my heart just to make sure and to be safe that I did not have a stroke or a heart attack. Which records and tests so far have indicated I did not. And now I have to wear a horrible fucking heart monitor on my fucking chest for 2 weeks. Which causes my skin to have an allergic reaction and unfortunately getting blisters which itch like hell.

Okay as far as the estrogen goes things that I've noticed so far. The major thing that I've noticed so far is that my suicidal thoughts have gone away. I have spent most of my life with suicidal thoughts every fucking day. The fact that estrogen got rid of that thought in my head really doesn't mean a lot. I've also noticed that my night terrors have gone away. Granted my dreams have gone really fucking weird. I'd rather deal with a weird dream than night terrors. I rather walk around the whole day being a positive person instead of waiting and anticipating when that suicidal thought is going to come. Since being on estrogen I definitely feel better. I'm also getting sleep. I'm not doing the normal sleeping for 4 hours I'm actually getting sleep. Now granted I do wake up in the middle of the night or in my case day and then go back to sleep but at least I'm getting rest. I haven't found any negative so far of being on estrogen. I enjoyed a lot and I'm glad that I finally have something to help balance my mind and my body. I will take it back though about the negative I have one negative and it's really fucking stupid. There are a couple days every once in awhile where my stomach is not happy at all and the bathroom is my best friend lol. I definitely go through an entire roll of toilet paper on that day or days lol. That's okay with me if that's the only negative being estrogen I'm okay with that.

So as far as future plans go well being on estrogen. My doctor is planning to help my dosage from 2 mg to 4 mg by November and possibly being on 6 mg by the beginning of the year. According to the blood test and body reaction test that I have to do once a week. My body is absolutely drinking and loving estrogen. If everything goes according to plan my transition should be pretty fast. Granted it is going to still take years for me to get to the point where everything is a girl. I'm hoping at some point after the holidays or maybe during the holidays getting a second job. In order for I can save up money to get feminized facial surgery. As far as top surgery goes I'm going to kind of wait on that one and let estrogen kind of do its thing first before I make a decision on that. Then there's bottom surgery which is definitely going to more likely be happening. I have been looking at a lot of different places for that. It is very expensive to get something like that and I'm definitely going to have to save up a lot of money in order to get that done. I know there's this place in Canada that is like really really nice but I can't find it. Also I would have to get a passport in order to get the surgery done which I don't really think would be too hard to do. But I'm hoping everything is said and done within 5 or 6 years.

So as far as my name goes I am going to have to wait two years before I can change it. That's simply just because of the rules and laws that are in the state that I live in. Thought that it's definitely been crossing my mind though is dropping my father's last name and changing it to my grandfather's last name. The only reason why I have that thought is simply because my grandparents are the ones that raised me. By changing my father's last name it's me saying goodbye to the old me. Plus I think you would be very therapeutic. My grandparents played a very big role in my life and help make the person that I am today. Honestly I've never felt like my father's last name it's just never fit me. As far as my little brother goes he is definitely my father's last name 100%, and he owns that shit. As far as me no I don't know any of that shit lol. I'll just have to wait and see how I feel after the two years have gone up and I can actually change my last name and I'm sure they'll be a lot of biological changes and physical changes that have occurred by that time so I'll keep the thought in my head. So that is everything that has been going on in my transition I'm sure there's a lot of other new things that are going to happen and a lot of different observations will occur and I'll write about those separate. I have definitely seen a lot of different reactions by a lot of different people. Some of those people are friends some of those people are family some of those people are acquaintances and coworkers so yeah. This is definitely been a very interesting time in my life.

101720240850

[pwblogarchive]

December 2004

December 2, 2004

“I Cant Sleep Easy Knowing Theres Someone Out There Thinking Or Not Thinking About Me” plane.pillstosleep.dream.drinkstowakeup.amilyingtomyself.isitgettingsomuchbetterorsomuchworse.imsofullofmyselfithinkimightspilloverbutatthesametimeicantstandwalkingpastmirrors.

come here and see how it really goes:

http://www.mtvu.com/contests/fall_out_boy/

p

December 5, 2004

“you are a stone fox.”

for serious. its been since like always.

its like something bigger than cool the way i can think for hours about the space between your ankle and your knee. how its just carbon molocules but how come they come together just like that.

its so simple. it slows me down. when my eyes roll underneath the lids it feels like they are running you over carbon paper so they won't forget. at the same time it just gets me going. like the way my heart beats so hard that i'm pretty sure it makes you laugh that you can get me that on edge.

it even hits me in the back of my legs.

and keeps me up at night.

ive been recording bass tracks, the record is starting to really come together- some song names: "the hand of god (worldcup 1986), i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your fucking mouth" and some others- the guys from finch stopped by- we never met them but they seemed pretty rad. i would recommend checking out there new record.

if you're in california, i will be at the chain reaction on december 7 watching gym class heroes tear it up. come by and hang out with me.

i really like these guys

fall asleep to the song: somewhatlikeawayout.

it will make you feel better.

i couldn't be more content. we'll be hanging around southern california- maybe we could even meet up and exchange compliments and high-fives!

peter

oh yeah alot of you have been asking about "the boy"-- and i guess that was just kind of an introduction to these nightmares i used to have in my head. i have about 70 more pages written that fill in the gaps and all, i'm not sure if it will ever be released maybe in another book or just on the internet- only if i can have the same art drawn for it. either way that was only the beginning of the story.

December 9, 2004

“You Know The Type, Loud As A Motorbike.”

good spirits everywhere. i woke up smiling this morning. andy flew home and is doing whatever people do in wisconsin. joe order dominos hot wings multiple times a day and wears a green john deer hat- i think his new best friend is knights of the old republic. patrick downloads music that makes me laugh, me and him are the ultimate odd couple- (see also: me waking him up at 3 in the morning to ask him not to think of white elephants). korean tom cruise gets paid to sit on the internet and croquet tech me and hot wing tech joe. i am currently the worlds worst roomate, worlds best croquet player, and dying for the lemony snickett movie to come out. and your best kept secret.

if you like contests or Sno-quet: whoomp there it is [link to http://www.fueledbyramen.com/clan.php ] 

r.i.p. dimebag

December 10, 2004

los angeles is funny but not like laughing, more like lonely.

we crashed some hilarious spin magazine party with the all american rejects.

it was full of bad hair cuts and worse tattoos. it made me glad to be from a small town but at the same time intrigued enough to watch it all go down.

me and lindsay lohan are sick of the gossip and scandals.

- petey

December 12, 2004

urgent update: life aquatic is the best movie of the year.

watch it. change the way you think.

- petey

December 14, 2004

my parents just left. its weird. i was homesick and then home came to me. but now i think i'm gonna feel worse with them being gone. i feel like i'd be so lost without them. it kind of makes my lungs feel too small when i think about life without them. i've been thinking alot about life lately and just all of the mistakes i've collected over the years. just how i'm so sick of falling back on them. i dropped my flaws in the mail with no return address. go easy. i'm gonna try and do it right this time. i think i like this music for real: www.christopherstrange.com -

okay so ive read some pretty hilarious things on the internet about us- actually made me fall out of my seat laughing. so i want to play a game with you. if you read this and have ever wondered anything about fall out boy or any of us, post it on our messageboard under a post called: twenty questions. and i will get them answered for you. no mean or stupid ones are getting answered (ie, why is pete so gay or how come patricks voice is so good), anything else is game. when it hits twenty good ones i will answer them in here.

- petey

12/14/04 Q&A

If you were handed a camera and were allowed to take only four pictures. What are the four pictures that you would take?

Patrick, joe, andy, and Korean tomcruise. Who am I kidding I couldn’t resist taking a hilarious pic of someones ass or dick. Probably my family, dogs, band, and maybe my room so I don’t forget anything ever. Good question.

1.5. What’s the best and worst thing about touring and being on the road?

summer. I want to answer this one cause you’re my buddy. But Patrick reminded me we answer it in interviews too much. So, im just saying hi instead. Haha.

Ive always wanted to know… what band changed/saved your life and how?

Minor threat first saved my life in the summer after my freshman year in highscool. All my friends were trashed all the time and that band let me know it was okay to not be like that. The next band to do that was unbroken- check out the record “life, love, regret” it got me through some of the worst nights I have ever had and introduced me to Morrissey. The last band to make me feel like that was saves the day- through being cool was like an anthem I would blast in my ears and hope everyone would just leave me alone. Ultimately it is fall out boy that saved my life. Doing this thing makes me feel alive in a way that I could never explain.

Oh n this is dumb but how would you guys feel if a fan had killed themselves to your music?… I know its not “depressing” or anything but these things could happen.

I would feel badly if anyone killed themselves to any music- because I know what its like to feel that alone and it is probably one of the worst feelings in the world. We have a line in a new song- “im sick of only writing songs for you to slit your wrists to”. We need to try and see another side of life.

how do you pronounce the word “alley” (spell phonetically)?

I don’t know how to write it phonetically. I say it like an asshole from the Midwest.

what have you been reading recently?

I just read this weird version of a bunch of poe stuff. Ive been reading a lot of Camus, I just finished the stranger, which is an amazing book. If I had to recommend a book it would still be “the heart is deceitful above all other things” by jt Leroy.

What in your life gives you the strength to keep following your dreams? (Especially when you were starting out and you had to deal with the people who were telling you it couldn’t be done.)

I don’t have anything else going for me. I don’t really ever think about what other people have to say about me- cause its usually either really good or really bad for all of the wrong reasons. It can blow up your head or sink your ego like a stone if you pay too much attention to it.

If you were stuck on a deserted island and could have only 1 book, 1 photograph, and 1 CD, what would they be and why?

Id take a blank notebook as my book to write in, a photograph of my family from way back before I was this weird, and Morrissey “viva hate”

Do you ever sick sick of waking up knowing that you have to be in the public eye? Is it weird to think that you have such a high influence on so many kids?

Yes. Its scary sometimes- I just think about the way things get picked apart and if im having a bad day I can come off as one of the worst people. I don’t really want to ruin someone else’s life, im having too much fun ruining my own (note that sarcasm doesn’t come through on the internet) but yes it’s very weird to go from noone caring who you are to people wanting to know your every move.

Do you like being from a small town?and Why?

I love it. It gives me perspective- I think if we weren’t from a small town we wouldn’t have wanted “this” so badly. We wanted to break out so badly, to not marry the head cheerleader and mow our 15x 25 plots of grass- like so many kids from my highschool turned out.

With all of the people who feel like they know you, through your music, your journals, and meeting you, do you ever feel exposed or like not much of your life is exclusively yours?

Yes. But I also feel an obligation to be honest with people that are friends and fans. I want to show everyone what this process is like- so that’s a sacrifice I am willing to make.

if you could bring someone back from the dead for a day, who would it be, why, and what would you do all day?

My aunt. So she and my mom could hang out all day.

Why does your ‘mom’ think you are over stimulated?

Haha. Because she thinks im weird and jumpy.

12.5 favourite porn film? and does it contain goat sex?

Favorite, come on be awesome like us yanks.

Do you preheat the oven? (Although this seems like a stupid question, it isn’t.. or maybe it is. It doesn’t matter.)

Is this question about sex?

You guys will be huge one day, and most likely get tons of play on MTV. How will you (or do you) prepare yourself for such stardom? And how will you react when you find out that kids are going around pulling grass out of your parent’s yard exclaiming “OMG! Pete totally mowed this yard when he was younger! He so walked on this sidewalk!! Oh my god, I think I’m gonna die!”

I never mowed the lawn, who told you that dirty lie.

What inspired the best song you ever wrote?

The biggest liar I have ever met.

What is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed in your life?

One time a long time ago I woke up next to this girl and she was breathing perfect and her hair fell over her eyes just right- and then a second later she was just a girl again. Its kind of weird how we can all have these beautiful moments.

16.5 Pete, ask Patrick if I can pump his gas.

Hahaha.

If my cat is pregnant again, do you want a kitten?

I gotta say im a dog person. Also, I cant even take care of a plant- I hate to see how bad I was at taking care of an animal.

If you could walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, who would it be and why?

Walking is for suckers.

what was the best christmas gift you ever received

one time my friend made a quilt for me out of all my old hardcore shirts. Its pretty awesome.

best gift you ever got for someone else?

One time I tricked a doctor into giving me an MRI and then I framed it and gave it to my friend, so they could have my insides.

Why shouldn’t Patrick think of white elephants?

Psychologists use this to study people. If you tell someone not to think of a white elephant, usually that’s all they can think of- now that you know the trick it wont work.

What do you think of the FOB board/boardies?

The ones I have met I like.

In The Boy With the Thorn in his Side, does the boy represent you?

I think it would be stupid to say that I didn’t write from somewhere inside me. I think he has pretty good intentions but is a pretty messed up guy- so I like to think he is inside a bunch of us.

Do you read the board on a daily basis? on that note If a boardie were to come up to you and say “hey i’m so and so from the board” would be able to recognize the sn?

Possibly. Its happened before. I definitely remember faces better than names.

What is your greatest accomplishment other than “Fall Out Boy”?

Being an allstate soccer player. Making it to age 25 and not be dead or in jail.

25.5 When are you going to write a Hanukkah song? I mean, we all love “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out”, but what about all the snazzy Jews out there? They need a holiday song, too.

Jews are snazzy, 4 out of 5 joes agree.

Do you prefer corn or green beans?

Are you kidding me. Corn.

when you were writing “nobody puts baby in the corner” what were you thinking about at the time? as a whole band how did everyone re-act to the lyrics?

I was thinking that I thought I had kind of come to terms with how I felt about someone and resolved my feelings when we wrote take this to your grave. But they just wouldn’t go away inside my head. And at the same time I guess, just how the people who hurt us are often just so irresistible that we keep going back. The line “can I lay in your bed all day and be your best kept secret and your worst mistake”- was actually something I said to someone and then wrote down as I lay in their bed and waited for them to come home. The band kind of lets me go wild with lyrics, on this song they could tell it was pretty angry- I guess. We get asked a lot if we are mysognists because of this song I think, but I want to put it on the table: you’re getting it wrong, we don’t hate girls, we hate everyone.

What are some of your favourite authors and books written by them?

Chuck palahnuik, jt Leroy, Sharon olds, rohl dahl, albert camus, sorry for the misspellings and the lack of titles. I promise I will get back to this one, I think its important.

Are you going to play “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out” at the Christmas shows? I’ll bring you cookies if you do!

Yes.

Who makes you want to “la la”?

Haha there are definitely a couple of people. Ashlee in the parking lot in the video definitely makes me want to lala- quinn from the used makes me want to lala- wait that’s a dude. Shoot.

What is the biggest misconception people have of Fall Out Boy?

I wish people could follow us around and see how it really goes. I don’t sleep with every single girl I talk to, we don’t talk shit on bands, we just have weird senses of humor, sean o’keefe didn’t write our last record, we don’t always get to pick where we tour or who we tour with, yes, patricks voice is really that good naturally, we’re not as big assholes as you read online- we’re pretty nice for the most part, if not alittle bit shy. Mostly we like to goof around with people.

Would you rather, stay at the level you are now…or become as huge as Blink182 or Good Charlotte?

I think you can do both like the cure did. I want as many people as possible to hear our music at the same time we will never compromise what we believe in or what we say.

If you could have on animal constructed out of duct tape, what would it be…and why?

Ah a sea lion.

Whos your favorite story book character?

Ferdinand the gentle bull, or max from where the wild things are, willy wonka.

Does it bother you how people act like they really know you just because they’ve met you one time? Or that tons of prepubescent girls/boys want to trap you in a dark alley and molest you?

Yes and no. I love meeting new people and have definitely been on that end of things where I wanted to know everything about someone and feel like I knew them. I feel like you can get to know us through our songs and seeing us at shows. And I think that we have met many people that I consider friends in our travels. At the same time it bothers me when people use it like “I know pete, blah are I the coolest”- trust me none of those people really know anyone. They are scared. Call their bluff. dark alley- very funny.

December 28, 2004

“A.W.S.E.M.E.-O”

Drove on christmas day. The shows have been lovely so far. I got my hair dyed my hair its red and black. You maybe hate it. But I’m weird so it doesn’t matter. I love playing shows again. This means so much to us.

I won’t bore you with anymore… But if you come early to the shows please dress warmly and bring blankets and mittens. I don’t want anyone getting sick or feeling miserable.

P

December 31, 2004

so to whoever egged our van last week. my dog marley ate all the eggs on the front lawn and got salmonella poisoning.

congratulations.

you fucking rule.

if my dog dies i'm going to punch you in the face.

- petey

December 31, 2004

“Happy New Year.”

dear everyone: thanks for an amazing 5 days. the party that ended it was too sickfor words. flava flav showed up and sang “911 is a joke”. i’d spill it all. but thats just not my style.

xxoo. find some lips for midnight and get some.

or not.

peter

[tofieldhome]

Me and some acquaintances are staying in a giant land lords mainsion just outside Huy somewhere in Belgium . I have a room for myself where I'm sitting in an open window on the first floor. Listening to the cars passing by in the distance. Afther I switched of the lights of the room I actually get to see something on the outside; a mysteriouse view of a bunch of pine trees grouped on the slope of what you could call a hill. Nothing that would pass as scary but in the moonless night and foggy fields , anything could pass as sinister.

While it slowly starts to rain I wonder why I'd go to such a place. Nothing to do but talk to cows and take a hike. Tho the calmth of this rainy night is making me feel broken loose of the city's far reaching chains . Do I miss these chains? Am I a slave of these or am I really choosing to be a part of this ant hill that we human's praise with fame and build under pressure. A city big enough to be just a worker in a giant network of insects. Lost in the crowds.

Sometimes I wonder if human's forgot that we are also animals. Because this social game that we use to call maiting ritual has turned into something completely manipulated by fashion and media. Neglecting the actual urges so many people have. Making people uncomfortable with saying what they think is right. Ofthen forgotten that our ancestors where as primal as the wolf that we manipulated to be our cuddly partners. As clever we human's perceive ourselfs to be, there are so many human's trying to manipulate you in the same way we did with dogs. Making those who don't have a clear opinion bend to their will with rewards and treats. Selecting those best fit to reproduce as role models or those representing what is out of reach to make the rest worry about their purpose and existance. To make people spend money to feel more sucure or closer to these role models. Some say money doesn't buy happinies. This may be true but it makes you feel suitable in the western world if you wear the latest fashion.

These are the things that worry me when sitting in the dark on a rainy night. Wondering about city life.

When i finnaly reach my bed, sleep is still far off. A few muscitos make sure I lay there listening till one comes near , just to switch on the light and end her already short life. Afther an hour of playing this waiting game I assume all of leeching insects are gone. Not to long afther that I fall in a dreamless sleep.

The morning after is a weird play of opening doors and few words.

The first to come in my room is my mother , asking how my night was. I tell her about the little bugs that kept me up. When I'm done she decides to let me be for a bit and leaves. Not even half an hour later my dad walks in. He tells me to "get up because their going for a walk and that its to late for me to join them any way" and closes the door.I should mention this Holliday is with both parrents but they have been divorced for 18 years now. No more than 10 min later my mother walks in again, asking me if I'm alright. Wondering why she'd be asking such a question I mention I forgot a towel wich makes her leave in search of one. 5 minutes later my dad comes in claiming my mom is worried about me. I tell him everything is oke I just need a towel so I can take a shower .. he walks out and throws me one of his and leaves. About 2 minutes later my mother walks in again with a towel. Noticese that I already have one and says she has to hurry because she's joining the walk. As it turned out the group that was going for a walk took about 40 min longer to depart as expected. So this gave my mother time to be annoyed about something. Now I wonder what she thought was going on.

2016, another style i haven't used since.

[sleepingintheflowers]

I have a long history of getting bad ear infections on Friday nights after everything closes/into Saturday mornings. Last night was another link in a long chain.

Around 7 pm I started feeling a lot of pressure in my ear. This doesn’t always mean anything to I went about my business until just before 8 when I could no longer hear and the pain was very intense. I look up Urgent Care hours. The one in my own town was going to close in 5 minutes. The one the next town over closed at 7:30.

I go to bed very early anyway. It’s a rare day that there’a. double-digit time on the clock and I’m still awake. Most days I’m in bed at 9:30. So, knowing it’s late and that everything is closed for the night I resolve to just take some Tylenol and go to sleep at my usual time. I plan to go to Urgent Care in the morning. 

By 9:45 I am laying in bed and the pain has become so intense that I’m SCREAMING. I send Brian out on a quest for pain relieving ear drops. While he is gone I start hearing popping and hissing in my ear, like one might hear when releasing the pressure on a pressure cooker. I’ve had enough ear infections in my life to think this is a good sign. You always hear popping when it’s finally clearing. The pain gets worse during this, though. It gets so bad I almost black out. The pain subsides and I feel liquid coming out of my ear. I grab a piece of tissue to check the color. It’s blood.

Brian texts me that they don’t have ear drops. I call him and tell him my ear is bleeding. He comes home. I’m in searing pain and in no position to drive. Brian calls his brother to come over and just make sure that Leah doesn’t wake up. We leave once his brother gets there.

We get to the ER at 11:30 at night. We don’t leave until almost 2:30. Diagnosis.... ear infection. Basically the ear infection caused the pressure in my ear to get so bad that my ear drum committed suicide and that’s where the blood is coming from. The ear drum should heal on its own. This is the not the same ear drum that ruptured when I had Covid so now they’ve both gotten a turn this year.

I’m currently just waiting on CVS to fill my antibiotics order. They didn’t open until 9 this morning. The little progress tracker says they’ll be ready at 11:40.