#hey look I’m alive yahoo

[new-revenant]

It’s Imploding time! Here’s my art piece for it ♥︎ and here is the fic done by the wonderful @harpsicalghost aka windhovergyre on Ao3:

[leodoriya]

100 prompts stolen from my friends and i

(100 prompts stolen from my friends and i)

“taps the sign that says guys please let me know when you get injured i trust exactly none of you to keep yourselves alive and well” “taps the sign that says hey i never did sports” “taps the sign that says boobies” “TAPS THE SIGN THAT SAYS FINE I WILL KILL YOU ALL”

“fuck you” “SIR YES SIR”

“i so badly want you to see my piss platoon in COTL”

“p.s. do you still have your ears pierced?” “mhm!” “not for long.”

“wait would tax fraud count as adultery?”

“[name] tanking radiation poisoning for the sole reason of why not. more news at 7”

“in THIS world, it’s either SHUT up or SLUT up and i ALWAYS slay!!”

“you are like the pinnacle of every Don’t instruction on a medical ad”

“when i was young, i too once had nipples”

“and they say white people have no culture. look at all these phrases”

“you texted me and called me a slur” “yahoo!!”

“allow the mundanity of your life to be filled by them. you will find love in your kitchen on a saturday morning when they’re frying eggs and you’re figuring out how to be a person over your coffee, and though you’re bone tired exhausted you’re still well aware that they’re there by the sizzling of eggs and you like that, even through your exhaustion you like that. you will find it when you take off your shoes and place them right next to theirs by the door. when you are loved, you will find love in every place that held nothing”

“to be loved is to find joy and love and care in what otherwise seems like the mundanity of life. like. like. words. words. uh. to be loved is to settle into the comfort of the mundane because you know that youre loved and cared for and the world is beautiful”

“if i was an orb with nothing else to do i’d ruin some childhoods too”

“one of the babies has breached containment”

“i want to put every cat in my mouth”

“i can’t stop writing my fingers don’t wanna stop fingering and these words just keep wording”

“[pet] has become catholic”

“ah yes, my favourite animal: the gun”

“i will eat the fetuses of your inhuman children you have hatefully inserted inside my chicken eggs with the prideful knowledge that i am saving the teeth of future children to come”

“you monster… i like how your mind works”

“what on earth happened i was playing mario kart”

“maybe i am a little coo coo guys…….. shakira shakira……..” “no the right person will love you for your alpha male swag”

“well, that’s what happens when you swipe a waterjet”

“also, he gives off bad vibes like an over cooked fish!!!!!!! remember!!!!!!!!”

“there is a small, air-filled blood cave in my foot” “as usual”

“YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOULL GET HIT BY A BUS >:)”

“[name] don’t fall for his tricks. he’s evil. a conniving little guy. with a bowl cut”

“i think you’re a culinary mad scientist”

“i’d love to punch you in the throat… but not like this, brother… not like this…”

“pissing on a dead guy rn btw” “rock on brother”

“everyone wins!! the femboy killed the business!!!”

“so i have a feeling it should be kicked into the corner like a failed organ harvest”

“current score is furry-1, god-0”

“guys…. come on…. we cannot have more than one loserfailure in this house please…..” “we’re all autistic?” “we all combine to make the loserfailure supreme” “LOSERFAILURES ROLL OUT” “we combine voltron style” “with the super long sequence” “i’ve had enough of your mouth!”

“[name] calls me milkboy because they can’t handle my milkboy swag”

“penis” “????? PENIS???????” “i’m helping you. you’re gay so i’m giving you penis. for emotional support”

“thank you for being suicidal so i can stim with your self harm scars”

“you have interesting flesh” “I HAVE INTERESTING FLESH?!”

“pull that milk cup a little bit closer so it can be like our baby…. it’s our little baby [name]….”

“STOP FOOTING MY TITS”

“i’m like a meat bullet”

“why are you so small?” “i miss the warmth of the womb” “you’re autistic”

“you are literally a dead victorian child” “don’t out him”

“half a year of man cum” “now what is wrong with you?”

“girlhood is defined not by misogyny or toys or violence but instead by stalking”

“YOU ATE MY CORPSE FIRST MAGGOT”

“sorry i’m trying to electrocute a man rn and i need both hands” “WHO???” “UHHH OWL???????? WDYM???????”

“girl relationships are kinda more complex than hieroglyphs tbh so maybe they thought that pedophilia would be the safer route idk i’m just a gaggot”

“hey girl new slur just dropped!!!”

“this song doesn’t just fuck it impregnates and raises the baby with gentle parenting”

“YOURE FRENCH AND GAY? faguette”

“YOU DOUBLE DIPLOMA DICKHEAD”

“he’s against killing unborn children but not living children?” “he likes to look them in the eyes when he kills them”

“[name] look at the dead 30 year old soul lingering in the eyes”

“LLLLLL RIP BOZOOOOOO BOOOOOOO NERRRDDDD BRO HAS AN INJURY LMAOOOOOO SKULL EMOJI TIMES SEVENNNNM” “i’m still taller than you in this wheelchair, boy” “not for long”

“[NAME] NO. you’re supposed to rest” “well maybe they should’ve thought of that before inventing capitalism”

“[NAME] HOW ARE YOU GUYS ALIVE?!”

“you’re like if a normal person got sliced in half and the legs grew their own new torso and head”

“unless you’re [name] but that’s only because [name] said i was making male whimpers and objectifying my pain” “YOU WERE”

“yeah that’s what i thought you sleepless beast”

“my boobies are bisexual i can use both to type but not very well unfortunately”

“GODDAMNIT IS THAT THE FUCKING TORTOISESHELL”

“[name] will you be my hillary clinton?” “yes i will consider you as my close personal friend”

“i love kaijus” “PACIFIC RIM? KAIJUS? SHAKES YOUR HAND” “YES” “YEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! oh the concept of being drift compatible….” “FR!!!! YOUR BRAINS!!!! MATCH UP!!!!!! assigned soulmates at brainwave technology” “LITERALLY!!! i was so normal about it when i watched pacific rim for the first time” “PREGNANCY IS SCARY!!!!” “Y YES? YOURE ON T MAN DONT WORRY” “i wanted to join in on the brains matching up but i don’t know anything about pacific rim”

“the probability of mpreg is low… but never zero. keep that condom close and your heat suppressants even closer”

“i’m finished! has [name] survived the shame yet?” “no” “lol rip bozo” “i’m going to go live in a lake house and pretend i like kissing women”

“you are all out to get me” “yeah”

“i’m just the worst person ever, huh? should i just get pregnant and give abo birth??? i guess everyone would be so much happier if i started being heterosexual??? you all think i never do anything scrumdilly yum yum for anyone, right??? that’s fine. i’ll just do what everyone wants me to do anyways. see you in five years when i’m shaped like a lizard from eating all those carrots. i hope you’re happy now.”

“OH FUWCK YOFF AL OF YIU!!!’m! I HOPE YORUE SHOWS MAKW SQUELCHWING NOSIWS WHEN YOH WALK RHOUGH THE HALLWAYS IM GONNAQ FUCKTUNG SHIT IN TWHM”

“i thought village people invented the ymca”

“guy whose body is an enigma”

“that reminds me of when [past event]” “wait. wait what the fuck. wait”

“attacks josh hutcherson with the spirit of christmas musiAUGH FUCK”

“there’s a part of me that just wants to [plan]- HOLY SHIT THAT ACTUALLY WORKED”

“i’ve gotta catch some dudes and get my beauty rest”

“leave me alone!!! my dick is tiny and the sex is bad!!! i have stale morning breath!!!”

“my grandparents are going into a home” “that, i can promise you”

“thanks man! clutches my sleep meds tightly in my toes!!”

“PENIS MAN LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO”

“STI (Strong Toes Institute)”

“you should send her a bag of organs”

“get spinned metal boy”

“HINGED [NAME] NOOOO sprays you with water”

“a brother, perhaps. one not by blood, but by shared sin. what does he know of our secrets, blanketed by the cover of night? why does he grin so eerily, as though mocking the monster i once was? now i am but a mere man, a hunter turned hunter. i fall prey to the evils that once lay on our tongue.”

“[name] do you know how scary it is to tell a joke and not hear my cackle echo back at me. nothing. just silence, and debussy.”

“what do you mean i am a respectable member of society right now that is not okay”

““i stole your mind” he says. just like that- this grey matter of mine is but an empty vessel, the pinky-white fluid leaking into her hull. as captain, i protect the oath i swore to her; my ship, my love, i go down with you. may gentle waves and great tides alike wash upon the shores: our bodies, together. once one, we are now two, as he thieves away the treasures. useless boon, worth not a pebble; but he knows, he knows- you are what made me complete. “i stole your mind” he says, but it is, too, my heart that he has plundered. not to keep or return with vows; nay, a single toss across the seas! it skips, once, twice, before the sandy bed lulls my boat to sleep.”

“good luck man i’m just gonna be over here feeling existential about my face not being mine. is this what it’s like to be high”

“i’ll remember something and instead of imagining a flash bang with something like “HORSE FROWN” in neon block letters popping out of the white i have to experience an emotion for longer than three seconds.”

“how i bagged my girl (snow day): PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OLEASE PLEADEPLASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASE” “LET ME GET WHAT I WAAAAANNTTT” “I AM BEGGING EVERY DEITY HOLY FIGURE”

“gay man talking about bagging a girl + lesbian being a theatre major + buddhist that is only buddhist because of ethnicity and agnosticism” “THAT WAS A THE SMITHS SONG” “That Is A The Smiths Lyric” “in times of desperation humanity’s true colours shine” “[NAME] I CANT BELIEVE YOU” “the smiths have the same level of drama as a cishet theatre company so it’s fine” “damn ok”

“I WAS NOT A FUCKING DOMINATRIX FUCK YOU i just spinned people really fast on the playground until they said it ticked and was too fast and begged me to stop- wait yeah okay thats.”

“WHY ARE YOU IN BLOOD HELL??”

““be not afraid” if i saw you in the woods i would be so torn between hiding and running that i might die on the spot” “smash” “smash” “GUYS COME ON- THIS GUY???” “not that guy. the tree guy” “THAT IS THE TREE GUY” “i could make him trans”

“heh. wouldn’t you like to be liver suckled, cock boy?”

“can i trust testsigma.com?” “no” “MAN”

“ohhh now i know why you lost your nipples”

“I WILL ALTER YOUR SKIN IN WAYS THAT CANNOT BE REVERSED NOR HIDDEN. MY TOUCH WILL IMMORTALIZE ITSELF IN YOUR BONES, AND LONG AFTER WE ARE GONE, YOUR VERY ESSENCE WILL SCREAM WITH MY VOICE.”

“WE'RE FINISHING OFF WITH MY BODY MOD HOBBY???????????????????????????????????????????”

all thanks to the troop 🫡: @striderman @thevoidsflame @xansa-e03

(also PLEASE tag me or message me if you use them so my friends and i can consume it)

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Vickie Moseley

Vickie Moseley has 252 stories at Gossamer, some of which have also made their way to AO3. She has obviously contributed a ton to the fandom over the years! I’ve recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including Giving Thanks, Stunned, and a bunch of post-eps for particular episodes, including “Firewalker” and “Pine Bluff Variant.” Big thanks to Vickie for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Not really. Well, actually, it has always surprised me that anyone would read my stories even during the heyday of the series, but that’s my self-consciousness talking. That people are discovering The X-Files is not at all surprising and that they are stumbling on fan fic is a natural extension and I find that wonderful. My husband and I never watched Grimm when it was on network TV and we’re currently going through that series, so it’s the streaming-on-demand-there-isn’t-anything-new-on-TV times we find ourselves.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Friendships. I have a group of women that I’ve been friends with for over 20 years. Until this year we gathered in person every year. We are in contact on Facebook messenger all the time and a conversation will start up just out of thin air when we haven’t conversed for months! It’s been wonderful knowing these women from all parts of the country (and the world for that matter).

And strangely enough, medical research. My writing tended to focus on ‘injured Mulder’ (or Mulder Torture as we termed it) and I also liked reading that in fan fic. Two years ago this managed to help me in real life. My husband experienced a bilateral pneumothorax (both lungs collapsed spontaneously). One of my favorite stories that I have read and reread is “Short of Breath” by the incomparable dee_ayy. She did some serious research while writing that story and it’s all in that fan fiction. I’m not saying it’s the same as a medical degree, but I knew what was happening, why the doctors where performing certain procedures and it really eased my mind as we went through the whole experience. I never would have known what was going on if I hadn’t read that story so many times.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Email was the ‘social media’ for the day. That, and newsfeeds. There were two newsfeeds in the beginning: the official FOX website had a message board, and there was one on ‘alt.tv’ which was an internet newsfeed where fans posted spoilers and discussed episodes. The alt.tv newsfeed got tired of the fan fic writers posting stories so a separate newsfeed was formed just for fan fic. EMXC, which was an AOL mailing list, was invite only and somewhat exclusive at first, but opened up to everyone. When the old OSU (Ohio State University) mailing list turned into Gossamer and Ephemeral, the fandom, and fan fic just skyrocketed.

But what you lived for the most, as a writer, was actual feedback. Emails from people all over who read your story. It was nice to get a quick ‘Hey, read this and really like it!’ but the wonderful emails, the ones you kept in folders on your inbox, were the ones that went into detail, sometimes critical, sometimes grammar related, but always showing where you could improve, or where you touched someone. Every friend I have from the fandom started as feedback, either to me or from me. I’m on AO3 and I appreciate ‘kudos’ but I really love getting comments.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Confidence in my writing. I learned a lot from other writers. Constructive feedback was a gift! I may never write the great American novel but I don’t think I’m afraid to give it a shot after all my years in fan fic.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

They had me at ‘aliens’. I’m a sucker for UFO shows. Was front row center at Close Encounters of the Third Kind, read many of the UFO standards, still watch Ancient Aliens on History Channel. I was waiting for The X-Files based on the tiny blurb in the 1993 Fall Preview Guide from TV Guide.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I kinda got fired from a job I loved and couldn’t go back into that arena for a long time. I was so depressed I was cleaning out my kitchen cabinets. My husband ‘gave’ me the internet for my birthday just to get me out of the dumps. I went straight to ‘yahoo’ and typed in X Files. After reading all the character bios I saw a ‘hyperlink’ (yes, that’s what we called them in 1995) to something called ‘fan fiction’. It was the OSU tree directory of about 100 fan fiction stories. I was instantly hooked.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I still love the show and all the fans I run across. I was not happy with S8 or S9 but I did watch The Truth. I was on Haven for a while during the reboots (S10 and S11) but it wasn’t the same. I’ve got all the seasons on DVD or blu ray and both movies. When I hear from fans, I’m so happy to connect but I don’t go out and look for new stories anymore.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

None. My heart belongs to Mulder ;)

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Captain Kirk, Spock, Captain Picard, Will Riker, Luke, Han, Leia, Poe, Rae, Kylo at the end. I like strong characters but it’s OK if they have flaws. I’d like to see more strong female leads in science fiction (Gammora and Nebula are favs of mine, too). I love Brea Larson’s portrayal of Captain Marvel!  

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Sure. When the Pandemic hit we started going through the series for maybe the 20th time. It’s nice to watch them on a larger TV screen. Kim Manners was a genius with lighting and showing just enough of the ‘monster’. I suspect he will be better appreciated in the future than he was at the time he was alive.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I still go back and read my favorites from XF. I read Blood Ties by Dawn about once a year, the whole series. I go back and read the Virtual Season X seasons. We had some really good stories in those years.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Too many to list! Dawn, of course. Susan Proto (I co-wrote with her), Sally Bahnsen, dee_ayy, Suzanne Bickerstaff’s Magician Series was the first (and only) fantasy I ever truly liked! I loved all my co-writers and there are plenty of writers that I wish we’d gotten around to collaborating.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I’m proud of Out of the Cold because it’s Mulder before Scully. I’m partial to the Flight Into Egypt series because I like ‘righting’ what I thought Carter got wrong in the end.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I keep trying! I’m working (have been working for almost a decade now) on a Flight Into Egypt story set at Christmas. Each fall I drag it out of mothballs, write a paragraph or two and get busy doing Christmas stuff. Funny, but it was easier to find time to write when I was a working mom of 6 than as a retired grandma of 3.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I’m putting together a cookbook for my kids and grandkids of all our family recipes. It’s not just the recipes, but the stories behind them. It’s a WIP (work in progress).

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I had a book, just a cheap paperback of unexplained events—all true stories, supposedly—that I got a lot of ideas from. Or, like Carter, I would see something in the news and it would turn into a story. One time I had a dream about our Pur water filter and it turned into a fan fic.

What's the story behind your pen name?

My older sister named me because my Mom and Dad let her. I never used a pen name. That’s my real name, you can google me and find out all about me. I used to have a wiki page or so my kids told me.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My kids used to tell their friends that ‘Mom is famous on the internet’ as a joke. Most of my friends know. My other life is in politics and the two lives usually don’t cross but once on a campaign I was asked by a reporter if I was the ‘same’ Vickie Moseley who writes fan fiction. If I had lied, that would have been the story—that I lied about this hobby of mine. Like it was something to be ashamed of or I was ashamed of my writing. So instead of ducking the question I said ‘yeah, have you read any of my stuff?’ Fan fiction was not mentioned in the finished article.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 but only a partial list. My website is still up thanks to Mimic.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Back when I started writing (1995) it was a sort of commune. We all loved reading fan fiction, we didn’t want the story to end with the credits. So if you wanted to read, you were encouraged to write, too, so that others had stories to read and share. It was a cooperative arrangement very much like the old Literary Societies back in the 19th Century.  I really miss that, so I hope that on some level that is still going on.

(Posted by Lilydale on November 10, 2020)

[wedontdeservenino]

Hi @mini-meats!!! I’m your ML secret Santa! This is a lovesquare one-shot I’ve been working on. I hope you like it!

(Side note: I’m on mobile right now so I can’t quite see how the spacing looks, so sorry if the paragraphs are strange! I’ll fix them as soon as I have access to my laptop ❤️)

__________________________________________

At first, it was like nothing had changed at all. The whole reveal had happened so late at night that by the time Marinette had woken up the next morning, she wasn’t entirely convinced she hadn’t dreamt the whole thing. Sure they might have talked about their identities, but it’s not like that had actually transformed into their civilian selves in front of each other. When she burst into the classroom 20 minutes late that morning and locked eyes with Adrien, he only sent her a shy smile and a wave. It was so un-Chat like that she spent the first few minutes in her seat scolding herself in her head for thinking such a ridiculous dream could have possibly been reality.

Throughout the entire class, however, Adrien kept stealing glances back at her, only to blush and turn back around when he was inevitably caught every time. At lunch, Marinette and Adrien’s parting glance didn’t go unnoticed by Alya, and ever quick to jump on an opportunity, said she needed to talk to Nino about something important during their break. After their hasty retreat, Adrien and Marinette stood there for far too long with tension so palpable you could break it over your knee.

“Uh.... hey!”

Hey? She could do this. She could respond to that. She opened her mouth to say ‘hey’ back, but what came out instead was the most unnatural sound she had ever produced.

His face twisted into something between concern and uncertainty. “Um... do you, wanna get lunch? With me?” She must have looked bewildered because he was quick to add “You don’t have to! You’ve probably got your own thing you do at lunch, and..... all that.” Stupid, she heard him mutter to himself.

“Lunch.”

“I... Er, yeah. But like I said, we don-“

“I can do lunch.”

“Oh! Ok, yeah!”

Neither of them moved though, and they spent another long moment just staring at each other.

“Uh... so um, did you want to-“

“Right! Right, sorry. Lunch time.” Lunch time? Who says that? Shaking her head to try to knock her out of whatever fog she was in, she grabbed his wrist and started towards a bench in the courtyard.

They both pulled out their lunches and started eating in silence, while Marinette tried to gather the courage to say something. Adrien beat her to the punch, and tested the waters.

“Sorry for staring so much this morning. I think my brain is lagging a bit behind reality. For a while there I thought maybe I’d daydreamed the whole thing. Can you imagine?” He chuckled nervously and dared a glance towards her.

As some of the tension broke, Marinette sighed a breath of relief. “You too? I thought I was going crazy. Jumping right into routine after having your world turned upside down is really jarring. I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

“This is totally weird, right? I mean who has to go through this? It’s not like we can just google ‘what to do when you just revealed your identity with your super hero, crime fighting partner’”

Marinette chuckled. “Honestly. And with how google tracks everyone, that’s just asking for trouble.”

“What a way to go. Revealed to the world through internet help forums.”

“The advice would probably be garbage anyways.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but personally, I get all my life advice from yahoo answers”

“You know I know you’re joking, and yet I wouldn’t be all that surprised?”

“You wound me, my lady!” They both laughed and felt any remnants of apprehension melt away.

“We should have transformed in front of each other. Even now I’m having a hard time connecting the dots.” Marinette sighed.

“What, you don’t find me as dashing and devastatingly handsome in this form?”

That caught her off guard. “I didn’t say that!” She squeaked. “I mean. Not that I thought Chat was dashingly handsome. I mean I don’t *not* think that either. Not that Chat’s a different person. You’re Chat. And I have perfectly normal feelings towards both of you. That’s all.” She sank lower into the bench, willing it to eat her alive and bury her in the concrete.

Adrien stared. “You know, on one hand, I can totally see you as ladybug. You’re so brave and smart, it’s honestly a miracle I only have one brain cell or else I’m sure I would have figured it out sooner.

“And yet, on the other hand, I feel like you’re completely different, too. You exude so much raw confidence as ladybug. I have a feeling that maybe you’re like that around most of your friends, too, but.... for some reason, around me, it feels like... I don’t know. Like something’s different.”

Oh god. He noticed. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he notice? She was an absolute wreck around him, a bumbling clumsy mess, a disas-

“Would it help if I messed up my hair a bit? Flirted like I have absolutely nothing to lose?” He asked, but with none of his usual bravado. “I don’t want to be someone that makes you feel uncomfortable.” She looked up at him and saw his face filled with insecurity. How selfish was she? While she was here freaking out about her crush, her partner was thinking she hated him all because she couldn’t spit out how she felt.

“Honestly, maybe” she said with a small smile. She reached over and gently ruffled his hair, and saw his wide eyes flicker from her bluebell ones to her lips as her hand lingered in his hair.

Reluctantly, she moved her hand away. “There he is. All we’re missing is some leather.”

“I can arrange that.”

She flicked his nose.

He smiled for a second, but it was quickly replaced with a frown. “My lady... why do you act different around me?”

“It’s... kind of embarrassing.”

“Surely it can’t be as embarrassing as any of the nonsense I’ve pulled around you.”

“You’d be surprised” she said, lowering her hand next to his on the bench. She stuck her pinky out and tapped it against his, and she heard his breath catch. “It’s only natural I’d be nervous around you, right?” She met his eyes with an intense stare as she fully reached over and intertwined her fingers with his. “When you make me feel like this.”

“My lady” he warned, voice cracking and devoid of humor “if you aren’t careful, I might get the wrong idea.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“Oh, I think I might. What are you trying to say?”

“Adrien, don’t make me spell it out.”

“I really think you should.”

“Chat...”

“Marinette,” he countered.

She took a steadying breath and her eyes fell to her lap. “Honestly, it was really unexpected. Maybe if I wasn’t so sure of my judgement of you when we first met, it wouldn’t have blindsided me so much. But the sincerity in your voice and look in your eyes when you handed me that umbrella... who wouldn’t have fallen for you?” She cleared her throat and continued. “I might have ended up crushing on a certain cat I know if it weren’t for that day. If the endless flirting never got to me, I’m sure the candle lit rooftop and rose would have done it. But I guess one doesn’t just forget about Adrien Agreste that easily.” There it was. There was no taking it back now. She screwed her eyes shut, dreading every second of the silence.

Until she felt a thumb trace across her cheek. She felt him pull her face gently in his direction and her eyes snapped to his. The amount of pure adoration in his expression was enough to make her heart jump out of her chest.

“That wasn’t very nice of him, hogging you all to himself. I think this feline’s going to be having some words with Adrien tonight.” She tried to laugh, but his face was so close to hers now, and with every soft puff of his breath her mind got a little fuzzier.

Once again his eyes flickered to her lips and back up, this time searching for any sign of protest. Finding none, he leaned in slow and torturous, until his lips just barely brushed against hers. “I’m so in love with you, you know that?” he spoke against her. And with that, he pulled her into him and kissed her for all he was worth.

Yeah. She did know. And god, was she in love with him, too.

__________________________________________

The end! Wow, my first completed fic! I’m glad I was able to finish this before the deadline 😅 I hope you like it, and are having a super super lovely holiday season!!

[jigokusaito]

きさらぎ駅

KISARAGI STATION

One of my favorite stories on the net, the story of Kisaragi Station is a chilling tale from 2chan of things that shouldn’t be. Now, I’m just copying and pasting this one from here, as the story itself is pretty straightforward. That being said, let’s begin:

Hasumi It might just be my imagination, but do you mind if I talk about something?

2chan Sure, go ahead. What happened?

Hasumi I just got on the train, but something’s off.

2chan Okay.

Hasumi It’s the train I always take to and from work, but it hasn’t stopped at any stations for about 20 minutes now. It always stops every five minutes, or at most every seven or eight, but it hasn’t stopped at all. There are currently five other people on board, but they’re all asleep.

2chan You haven’t gotten off the train yet, have you? You didn’t get on the express by mistake?

Hasumi Yeah, like you said, it’s possible I got on the wrong train. I’ll wait it out just a little longer. If anything else weird happens, I’ll come back again.

2chan First of all, why don’t you go to the front carriage and see the conductor? If he had an epileptic fit or something that would be terrible. Go and check on him!

Hasumi It still doesn’t look like we’re going to stop anywhere, so I’ll go and have a look.

The blinds or something are covering the window, so I can’t see the driver. I’m on a private railway in Shizuoka Prefecture.

2chan Did you knock on the window?

Hasumi I did, but there was no answer.

2chan Can you see outside? Can you see the names of passing stations or anything?

Hasumi After leaving the tunnel the train has started to slow down a little. We don’t usually pass through a tunnel though. It’s the train from Shin-Hamamatsu Station.

It looks like we’re about to stop.

2chan You’re not gonna get off, are you?

Hasumi We’re stopped at Kisaragi Station, but I wonder if I should get off? I’ve never seen or heard of this station before.

2chan You should get off.

No, you should stay on until the last stop.

I mean, the train should’ve started moving again by now, shouldn’t it?

Hasumi, what time did you get on the train?

Hasumi I got off. The station is empty. I got on the train around 11.40 pm, I think.

2chan I did a search for Kisaragi Station, but nothing came up… And hang on, your train’s been running for an hour now? Alright, I’m off to take a bath.

I looked for Kisaragi Station as well, but there’s nothing here.

Hasumi I think I should go back. I’ve been looking for a timetable but I can’t find anything. The train is still stopped so I wonder if it would be safer to just get back on? Well, while I was writing that I already got back on board.

2chan Are there any buildings nearby that look like they might have people? It’s cold out there, so be careful.

Hasumi I’m gonna leave the station and see if I can find a taxi. Thanks.

2chan That’s a good idea. Be careful.

I’m doubtful that you’ll easily be able to find a taxi at an empty station after the last trains have already run.

And it looks like Hasumi’s become a resident of the 2D world.

Hasumi There’s nothing here, let alone a taxi. What should I do?

2chan Go see the station attendant or a nearby police box!

Shouldn’t you call 110 for now?

Why don’t you call the taxi company?

All you can do at this point is go to the nearest convenience store.

If there’s a public phone nearby, you should look up the number of the taxi company and give them a call.

Hasumi I call my parents to come and pick me up but they don’t know where Kisaragi Station is. They said they’d look it up on the map and then come to get me, but I’m kinda scared.

2chan What happened to the others on the train? Were you the only one who got off?

Hasumi, I also tried to find Kisaragi Station on the internet, but there’s nothing here. You said you were near the Shin-Hamamatsu area, right? I’ll see if I can find anything on Yahoo.

Hasumi I went to look for a public phone but there aren’t any. The other passengers didn’t get off, so I’m alone right now. The station name is most definitely Kisaragi Station.

2chan There’s a chance you’ll find a public phone off the station grounds.

Why don’t you try leaving the station?

I just did a bit of investigating right now, and the kanji for ‘oni’ (demon) can also be read as ‘kisaragi,’ right…?

So you mean ‘Demon Station’…? That’s terrifying.

Are you a video game nerd? When I googled it, I found a video game.

Write down the previous and next stations from Kisaragi Station. Don’t say there’s nothing written there.

Hasumi What game are you talking about? There are no previous or next stations written here.

2chan Try walking back home along the tracks.

If you start running now, you can probably catch up with the train!

It’s a station, so there has to be people living around there.

Hasumi Yeah, that’s right. I was panicking, so I didn’t even notice. I’ll follow the tracks back and wait for my parents to call. I tried looking before in the Town Information part of I Mode in my phone, but it came up with some kind of error. I just wanna go home.

2chan Whether it’s a joke or not, I’m gonna work towards solving this seriously.

Hasumi There really is nothing around here. All I can see are grasslands and mountains. But if I follow the railway tracks, I think I can get home, so I’ll do my best. Thank you. You might think it’s all just one big joke, but can I come back if I run into any other problems?

2chan Of course. At any rate, take care.

Of course. Just be careful your phone doesn’t die. It’s your lifeline right now.

Don’t start walking in the wrong direction. And be careful inside the tunnel.

Can a phone even get reception in an area with nothing around? I think it would be better if you don’t move from the station…

All alone at an unmanned station on a cold night. The lights will probably turn off soon and it’ll be dark.

The railway tracks are an even darker trap. There’s a tunnel after that too, right?

And yet, it would probably be safer to spend the night at the station…

This is terribly risky.

Hasumi My father called. He had a lot of questions, but in the end we have no idea where I am, so he told me to call 110. I don’t really want to, but I’m going to give the police a call and see if they can help me…

2chan I think it would be easier for you to move around once it gets brighter…

Could you really wait there all alone at night? In some strange, unfamiliar place…

Could you pass through the tunnel all alone at night? On some strange, unfamiliar railway track…

So could you keep walking through some unfamiliar street at night in the cold?

Hasumi I tried explaining my situation the best I could to the police, but they thought it was a joke and got angry at me. I was so scared that I ended up apologising to them…

2chan Why did you apologise? You should call it a night. Go wait at the station for the first train.

What’s it like around the station? Is there anything there?

Hasumi I can hear what sounds like the beating of drums coming from far away, mixed with the sound of a ringing bell. Honestly, I don’t know what I should do anymore.

2chan Hasumi, you need to get back to the station. It’s best to return to where you were in the first place when you get lost.

It’s about to start…

Drums and bells…?

It’s probably just a festival.

Hasumi You might think I’m lying, but I’m so scared, I can’t look back. I wanna go back to the station, but I can’t turn back.

2chan Run. Whatever you do, don’t look back.

You can’t look back at the station! You’ll be taken away. Just run towards the tunnel, right now! It should be closer than you think.

Hasumi Someone just yelled out from behind me. “Hey, you can’t walk along the railway track, it’s dangerous!” I thought it might be the station attendant, so I turned around, and about 10 metres away there was the old guy with one leg standing there. Then he disappeared. I’m so scared, I can’t move.

2chan I said don’t look back. Just run.

Calm down and listen to what I have to say. Try going towards the sound of the drums. There should be people there.

Just where are you trying to send Hasumi?

That’s not it at all, Hasumi is about to be taken away. That’s why I’m saying, if she can, she should go back.

How come you could you tell it was an old guy with just one leg?

…because it’s an old guy with just one leg?

It’s probably some guy that was hit by a train and lost his leg and then died.

Hasumi I can’t walk anymore, but I also can’t run. The sound of the drums is getting closer.

2chan Just wait for morning. Once it gets brighter, it won’t be so scary.

You should have gotten back on the train.

Hasumi I’m still alive. I fell over and I’m bleeding, but I’m still holding onto the heel I broke. I don’t want to die yet.

2chan Well, it’s not like things were going to get better if you stayed in the one spot, anyway.

I think you’ll be fine if you can get through the tunnel, anyhow. When you pass through, let us know and get some help.

Hasumi I called home. My dad said he’d call the police for me, but the sound is getting closer and closer.

2chan Well, let’s just pray that sound isn’t the sound of an approaching train. Having said that, it’s probably too late for that now.

Hasumi I did my best and I’m somehow in front of the tunnel now. The name says Isanuki. The sound is getting closer, so I’m gonna gather up all my courage and try to get through. I’ll post again once I get through safely.

2chan Good luck.

This is the end. The train and the station are gone. You can’t go back. There’s no-one to follow. The sound you hear is a phantom of your own past. Run towards the tunnel. If you stop, you’ll just be stuck between worlds.

Hasumi I’ve exited the tunnel. Someone’s standing just ahead of me. Looks like doing what you guys suggested was the right answer. Thank you. I’m probably gonna be mistaken for a monster, my face is a mess of tears.

2chan Hasumi, wait! Don’t move!

Stop! It’s dangerous!

Who would be standing there at such a time? It’s too suspicious…

Hasumi Sorry for making you all worry. The person was very kind and said they would take me to the closest station. Apparently there’s a business hotel or something there. Everyone, thank you so much.

2chan Hasumi. There’s something I want to ask you, so please answer. Where are you? Can you ask that kind person the place name?

Are they really kind? They could be scarier than what’s going on here, you know.

Yeah, maybe. Anywhere, where the hell are you?!

That person is dangerous!! Why is someone on the railway tracks at this time of night? They must have run into you while disposing of a dead body or something! Run!!

Hasumi I asked where we are, but he just said ‘Hina.’ There’s no way that could be true though.

2chan Hasumi, get out of the car!

I’m sorry, Kasumi. Where is Hina?

What a strange story. So at this particular time some suspicious old guy just happened to be there to pick up a girl walking along the railway tracks…? What was he doing?

Hasumi We’ve started getting closer to the mountains now. I don’t think there’s anywhere for the car to stop, and he’s stopped talking to me entirely.

2chan There’s no reason for even a strange old dude to be up at this time.

Maybe he’s not talking to you anymore because you’re always on your phone?

Hasumi, you’re in danger. Did you tell your parents to come and get you from the tunnel?

Hasumi. Call 110. This might be the last time you ever write anything.

Hasumi My battery’s about to die. Things are looking strange, so I’m gonna try to run the first chance I get. He’s been muttering about something I can’t understand for a while now. Just so I’m ready when needs be, I’m going to make this my last post for now.

※ After this post, Hasumi was never heard from again.

And that wraps it up! As I mentioned before, this one is one of my absolute favorite stories from around the net, but maybe that’s because I’m a sucker for the whole “other world” sort of thing. Personally, I’d love to take a trip there myself and see some things that shouldn’t be. What do you think happened to Hasumi? As always, remember to stay safe and stay true to your beliefs.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x12: Galaxy Brain

Welcome back to the new recaps! We’ll be doing recaps on Thursdays now that the show airs on Mondays. 

Then:

Remember when death was welcome and we had no hope?

Now:

Four Weeks Ago:

Earth 2

At an unassuming Radio Shed, a woman casually strolls around getting creeped on by the store clerk. He’s just an eager salesman, but dude…(Also, I’m a bad fan and had to Shazam the song playing. I thought it was quite on the nose with the whole “I had a dream that I ate your heart” considering Jack’s recent activities. It turns out to be Louden Swain, and all you real fans must have been dying laughing at how perfectly placed the song was.) 

The dude is despondent when the woman leaves, but then a new customer arrives, eyeing up the wall of televisions. It’s Chuck. The guy gives his best spiel, but Chuck isn’t interested. “It’s monologue time,” he states.

Chuck explains his twisted life story. 

And shows us the world:

Anybody else wish we would have had a glimpse of Squirrel World in these television sets? Well, Chuck waxes poetic about all the worlds he’s created and how none of them bring him as much happiness as the world with the real Sam and Dean. “They challenge me. They disappoint me. They surprise me. They’re the ones.” Chuck then decides that it’s time to clear the board and get rid of everything but the world with the real Sam and Dean (WEEPS OVER THE “FAILED SPIN-OFFS” LINE. BOBO WE’RE SO SORRY.) 

Sioux Falls.

Our World.

Now.

We find Jody Mills having too much fun investigating the death of a cow. She gets a call from Alex and we learn that life keeps humming along for our Wayward women.

Once off the phone, Jody sees a flash of motion from a barn and heads to check it out. Someone attacks her from behind. JODY! 

At the bunker, Sam, Dean, and Cas discuss what to do about Jack and his deal with Death. Sam’s concerned because Jack doesn’t have his soul still. We cut to Jack looking at the carvings of DW, SW, AND MW. He lightly grazes the MW. We know exactly where his soulless mind is. 

He heads to his bedroom and he’s surprised when a reaper appears. 

Sam continues to question the plan of Billie’s that Jack will kill God. Cas fully trusts his little nephilim son. Dean’s spent some time with Death and thinks she has it figured out. 

The reaper tries to reassure Jack that Billie’s plan will work as long as he follows the rules --lay low, wait for instructions, don’t use his powers. They need to keep Chuck out of the loop. 

Sam interrupts the conversation and Jack lies about who he was talking to. Sam tries reassuring Jack that they’re very happy to have him home and that they will help him.  

Meanwhile, recently reunited husbands share a celebratory drink now that they’re family is back together. Cas can’t help but gloat over how right he was and celebrate his faith in Jack. Dean wants to celebrate getting revenge. I want to celebrate these two yahoos talking again! 

Dean gets a call from Jody. She’s in trouble. 

Sam and Dean head out and find Jody tied up in the barn. Dark Kaia attacks! She’s seriously badass, but no competition for the Winchesters + one Mills. She wants her spear back --and more to the point, she wants to go home. Sam wants to know why she even wants to go back to that place. She tells them the world is dying. She knows this because she still has a connection to our Kaia. YEP. Kaia is STILL ALIVE PEOPLE. Dark Kaia left her the tools to stay alive, and she has, but Dark Kaia wants to go back. And now the others want to save Kaia. 

At the bunker, Cas and Jack bond over a fun game of Connect Four. 

Sam, Dean, and Jody arrive back at the bunker --with Dark Kaia in tow.

*JODY AND CAS FINALLY MEET ALERT*

They all agree that Jack can’t use his powers to help Dark Kaia get home, but they have to save their Kaia another way. 

While they figure that out, they chain Dark Kaia to the kitchen table and give her a magazine to read. 

Jack thinks he’s found a great spell but John Winchester had to ruin everything and kill off one of the necessary ingredients. How that man is able to ruin things this far in the grave will never cease to amaze me. Dean sends Jack to check in on Jody and Cas. 

Jody and Cas discuss their almost daughter, Claire, and her quest for revenge. Jody tells Cas that Claire loved Kaia, and Jody doesn’t want to tell Claire about this recent development. It would be too much for her to bear if things don’t work out. 


Jack morosely peeks in on the stalled progress of Jody and Cas, then stops to talk to Alt!Kaia. She’s angry, accusing him of encouraging Kaia to make the jump to the other world. It’s his fault that Kaia is in pain and about to die. 

Alt!Kaia wanted to visit Earth Prime because it looked comfortable, but she finds it cold instead and hard to live in. She begs Jack for help in a way that makes you think she’s never begged for a thing in her entire life before. Jack dreamwalks with her and confirms that Kaia is trapped in the Bad Place and an all-swallowing storm is coming for her. 

Jack heads into the library, advertising his intent to the Winchesters that he’ll save Kaia from the Bad Place. Merle, the reaper from earlier, appears. She is…ENTIRELY unimpressed by this plan. Saving Kaia is “Winchester dumb,” Merle insists. 

If Jack tries to save Kaia, Merle is totally running off and tattling on him to Death. Jack reads the room and calls her bluff. “Go,” he tells her. He’ll open a rift with his magic and Merle can just DEAL with Billie’s wrath when she comes running. Merle’s not so hot on that prospect, instead reluctantly coughing up a plan B. The cosmic warding Amara removed from the bunkers is the key!

But FIRST our patron saint of long suffering salt, Merle, insults the Winchesters’ rune repair work. The Winchesters re-warded their walls against demons and monsters, but didn’t come close to the “cosmic grade stuff.” 

She can rattle up the warding temporarily to block Chuck’s perception, but she’ll need to add a little battery power to the attempt. She demands the use of “your angel��� to properly run the spell.

Sam, our very best witch, recites the spell. Runes glow along the bunker walls and edges as the shielding spell takes hold. 

Heading out, the Winchesters agree that the plan is reckless, stupid…and it FEELS REALLY GOOD. They’re back to their roots, baby! Give me my dumb, poorly planned, big hearted missions any day.

Cas corners Jody, asking her to stay behind as well. He never bonded with Claire - and couldn’t given their history - but Jody did. He doesn’t want to picture a world where Claire loses both Kaia and Jody. The truth settles over Jody like a thick wool blanket and she agrees to stay behind. 

For Soft Cas Science:

Cas and Merle supercharge the wardings. 

Once the wardings are active, Jack slings out a rift to the Bad Place. Alt!Kaia smiles at last and ducks inside, quickly followed by the Winchesters. The Bad Place is rainy and windy and full of red-eyed monsters LOOK OUT! 

Alt-Kaia realizes that the monsters are just scared of a roiling gray storm and they head off to find Kaia. Dean greets her with a “Hey, kid,” and a hug! KAIA IS SAVED! 

Alt-Kaia, however, decides to stay behind. The Bad Place is her home, its ending be damned. The Winchesters race off with Kaia and Alt!Kaia greet the oncoming nothingness with open arms. 

They make it back through the rift and Jody gives Kaia a great big MOM HUG. Kaia’s eyes slip closed. She’s safe at last. 

A little while later, Kaia has availed herself of the bunker’s excellent water pressure or possibly even that amazing bathtub. She’s now wearing Jack’s spare sweatpants. Bless. 

She tells Jack that she survived by anchoring herself around a children’s rhyme her mother sang to her: Miss Mary Mack. Jack attempts to grasp another tiny sliver of humanity. Good luck, Jack. Many of us work on that to this very day!

Jody invites Kaia to live with her. “Will Claire be there?” Kaia asks and it’s…REAL CUTE GUYS. Wayward Sisters lives on, even if it’s off screen. ALL THE HEARTS

Merle dumps a big soaked blanket over the celebration. “If I cared for a second about saving that girl, I guess I’d say that was a victory,” she says with a weary sigh. I love this GRIM reaper. Sadly, she’s not long for this world. Billie’s scythe jabs through Merle’s throat and tears her into little cosmic pieces. 

Billie CANNOT BELIEVE these Winchesters. “Bending the rules already, Jack.”

“I tried to call you,” Jack all but squeaks out. 

No excuse, bud. She’s not mad, she’s disappointed. Billie explains that she sees the big picture, even if nobody else does. All the worlds except this one are dying. 

“It’s Chuck,” Cas surmises, and Billie rewards him with a no-shit-sherlock look for the ages.

Sam demands answers. “When I became Death,” Billie says, “I inherited Death’s knowledge and Death’s library. And in Death’s library, everyone has a book. Even God.” The books write themselves, in a wonderful bit of LIFE HAPPENS. Billie explains. “After God made the world…he wanted more. But he needed to create a perfect harmony. A swiss watch so this world could keep tick tick ticking in his absence.” Chuck built himself into the framework of reality. The Winchesters and Jack are in Chuck’s book. “This is your destiny. You are the messengers of God’s destruction.” 

Back at Radio Shed, Chuck watches his worlds get torn to shreds by horrible weather events and war. The hapless Radio Shed employee Chuck chained to his service looks exhausted, worn to shreds from serving the capricious god. (Definitely no symbolism HERE, nope.) He’s confident that Chuck will spare his planet. Right? RIGHT? 

“Everything’s just fine,” Chuck reassures him before leaving the Radio Shed. As he strolls from the shop, he tosses his empty cup aside as meteors streak in to destroy the planet.

That’s Win-Quotester Dumb:

It’s monologue time

Sir, this is a Radio Shed

You’ve got four of the same color connected so…given the name of the game I assume that means you won

One little measly life on the line and you’re willing to risk it all? That’s not just dumb. That’s Winchester dumb

Disobeying cosmic entities…doing the dumb, right thing…feels like we’re back

How’s it feel to be back? [silence] Good talk

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hey can I have sheriff Hoyt with a popular and extroverted daughter? Thank you!

Sure! ^^ 

Also, as a bonus headcanon, like my father(Was in the Navy), Hoyt probably awakens his children with the Bugal wake up call. 

~~~

·         (To follow movie events, Charlie has you after he comes back from the war. You could be adopted or you could be biologically his. Whatever. I’m also not going to specify about any mother)

·         Doesn’t care too much about your friends or… god forbid, boyfriends.

·         And I don’t mean ‘Doesn’t care’, as in ‘Eh, whatever’. I mean ‘Get the fuck outta my house you yahoo’s’.

·         This would actually make sense, that Hoyt would have a popular, extroverted daughter. Any child raised by Hoyt and the other Hewitt’s would have a thick skin. You don’t care what others think of you! But, you’re also Luda Mae’s grandbaby and you have a kind streak. Which, of course people like! People like to be around people who are nice to them!

·         Even when you were little and were allowed to bring friends home for playdates (Before the Slaughterhouse shut down and they started cannibalising people. The house was pretty safe then, apart from probably splinters), Luda Mae would be the one watching ya’ll. Maybe even Monty sometimes, because he would just have to sit there and watch TV, and occasionally ask you if your friends were all alive still. 

·         You and him would have codes through how many frequent gunshots sounded outside that correlated with when he wanted the kids to leave.

·         Your friends: Is that your Dad?

·         You: No, that’s my Uncle!

·         Your friends: Where’s your dad then?

·         *SOUND OF GUN SHOTS OUTSIDE*

·         You: Outside! ^^

·         (Thomas usually hid, because he was afraid to get bullied by your friends for his looks)

·         ON THE TOPIC OF THOMAS’ BULLYING. You are not here for it. That is your uncle (You two go to school at the same time. He’s a much higher year level, but still. Charlie was all the way into his middle age when Luda Mae saved Thomas). And, since you’re popular, you have the power to stop it and you try really hard to.

·         You and your father are very different because of your extroversion. Charlie isn’t shy, by any means. But he also isn’t a fan of groups of people. He isn’t exactly personable, either.

·         But you’re a bit of a Daddy’s girl, seeing as you don’t have a mother, so you get along with each other great. You love your quiet time just hanging out with Dad. Lots of inside jokes, and you know how to use a gun. You also know all your Dad’s war stories by heart and his showing off is getting old (Trust me on this. My dad didn’t even participate in a war and its painful. I cringe to imagine what Charlies like.). 

·         If you bring a boy home to meet the family (Having warned said boy, of course), you immediately hint to your father that your boyfriends parents know where he went and to come searching if he doesn’t get home by 7, because you know your father, and his murderous tendencies.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Changing Channels: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,539

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Looking at your surroundings, you bit your lip nervously. There was no murder at the old paper mill. The Trickster was behind all of this, you can just feel him around.

“Dude, what the hell,” Sam commented as you three began walking throughout the corridors.

“I don’t know.”

“No, seriously, what the hell.”

“I don’t know!”

“One theory. Any theory.”

“The Trickster trapped us in TV Land,” you voiced your thoughts.

“That's your theory? That's stupid,” Dean scoffed.

“You're the one who said we're on Dr. Sexy, MD,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but TV land isn't TV Land. I mean there's actors and, and lights and crew members, you know? This looks real.”

“It can't be. Dean how can this possibly be real?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean groaned.

A woman doctor passed by the three of you, and she smirked at Dean and Sam.

“Doctors.”

“There goes Dr. Wang. The sexy but arrogant heart surgeon,” Dean explained as he moved onto another person who was sitting on a gurney looking very sad until another woman doctor came up to him. “And there's Johnny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive, he's a ghost in the mind of her, the sexy yet neurotic doctor over there.”

“So, this show has ghosts? Why?” you asked.

“I don't know. It is compelling,” Dean shrugged.

“I thought you said you weren't a fan.”

“I'm not. I'm not,” Dean scoffed, looking the other way towards the elevators. His eyes widened at the man walking towards him, but he couldn’t seem to say anything intelligent.

“Oh boy,” he whispered.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s him.”

“Who?”

“It's him, it's Dr. Sexy,” he hissed just as Dr. Sexy approached the three of you.

“Doctor,” Dr. Palmer a.k.a Dr. Sexy, said as he looked at Dean.

“Doctor,” Dean looked down, hiding the obvious smile on his face.

He was such a fanboy in this moment, you almost forgot the assault that happened earlier.

“Doctor,” Dr. Palmer addressed you.

“Doctor?” you posed it as a question.

“Doctor,” Dr. Palmer finally addressed Sam.

However, the younger brother could only nod, and that caused the older one to smack him in the back from behind. Sam gave the fictional character a tight smile as he said it back.

“Doctor.”

“You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?” Dr. Palmer asked Dean who was clearly confused, yet disappointed that he upset his fictional idol.

“One reason?” he asked, and the recipient nodded.

Dean looked down in half-shame, about to give an answer when he spotted the doctor’s shoes. His face went from panic to anger as he shoved Dr. Sexy into the wall.

“Dean!” you hissed.

“You're not Dr. Sexy,” he ignored your attempt to bring him back to sanity.

“You're crazy.”

“Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy, sexy, is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes.”

“Yeah, you’re not a fan,” Sam scoffed.

“It’s a guilty pleasure,” Dean argued without taking his eyes off the imposter.

You took a closer look at the doctor, and your eyes widened when you felt the energy pulsating from the being. This wasn’t a doctor, it was the Trickster.

“Call security,” Dr. Palmer said to the nearest person.

“I know who you are. You’re the Trickster,” you blurted out.

Dr. Palmer smirked in your direction as two female doctors and a security guard came rushing your way in a calm manner. Just like that, they and the other extras freeze-frame. Everyone except for you, Dean, Sam, and Dr. Palmer were able to move. Suddenly, Dr. Palmer morphs into the Trickster.

“You guys are getting better!”

“Get us the hell out of here,” Dean growled.

“Or what?” he asked, grabbing your boyfriend’s arm and twisted it. Dean winced in pain as he let go, and he took a step back to join you and his brother’s side. “Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy.”

“That was you on the police scanner, right? This is a trick,” you observed.

“Hello? Trickster. Come on! I heard you three yahoos were in town. How could I resist?” he laughed.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Like it? It's all homemade. My own sets,” the Trickster raps on the window in a nearby door then indicated to the frozen extras, “my own actors... call it my own little idiot box.”

“How do we get out?” you asked.

“That, my friend, is the sixty-four-dollar question.”

“Whatever. We just, we need to talk to you. We need your help,” Sam tried his method that you discussed earlier.

“Hm, let me guess. You three muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess.”

“Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out.”

“Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk,” he grinned.

“Survive what?” you asked.

“The game!”

“What game?”

“You’re in it.”

“How do we play?”

“You’re playing it.”

“What are the rules?” you asked, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.

The Trickster matched your eyebrow game, grinned, then vanished in a burst of static. The extras unfroze and resumed their lives as if nothing happened.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Dean groaned.

A blonde doctor pushed past the three of you, calling out Dr. Palmer’s name in a frenzy.

“Dr. Sexy? Dr. Sexy?”

“Come on,” you sighed, leading the group down the corridor after her.

“Oh, by the way, talking with monsters? Hell of a plan,” Dean antagonized his brother.

“Just, what do we do now?” Sam asked.

Before anyone had anything to say, the male doctor who slapped your ass from before came walking around the corner. When he saw you, you knew from the look in his eyes that he was gonna slap your ass once more. Before he had the chance to do it, you grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and shoved him into the nearest wall.

“You even think about touching me, I’ll break your arm,” you threatened.

All the man could do is laugh as he shrugged out of your grasp.

“I love that fiery passion you have. Makes for a great night,” he grinned, winking at you as he left.

“What the fuck is going on? What are we doing here?” you asked loudly.

“You know what I'm doing? Leaving,” Dean declared.

He turned the corner only to come face to face with Dr. Piccolo, the woman who slapped Sam earlier. She reached up and tried to take another swig at him, but Sam was smart and dodged it easily.

“Lady, what the hell?”

“You are a brilliant, brilliant—”

“Yeah. A coward,” he interrupted her. “You already said that, but I got news for you. I am not a doctor.”

“Don't say that,” she choked up. “You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty. So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die.”

“I have no idea what you're saying to me.”

“You're afraid. You're afraid to operate again, and you're afraid to love,” she sobbed, leaving his side to run down the hallway in tears.

“Yeah, we're getting out of here,” Sam nodded.

“Hey, Doctor?” a man asked, stopping you in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“My wife needs that face transplant.”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a very nice man, but none of this is real, okay? Your wife doesn’t need jack shit from me,” you snapped, continuing on your way.

“Hey, Doctor,” the man said once more with a look of agony on his face.

He lifted a gun to your chest and pulled the trigger, missing your heart by a few inches. Instead, the bullet went straight through your lower back. He escaped down the hall as your eyes widened in shock.

“Real,” you gasped as blood started to pool on your coat. “Dean, this is real.”

Gasping, you fell to the floor just as Sam and Dean realized what you were trying to say.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—hey! We need a doctor!” Dean yelled as he knelt by you.

Both him and Sam yelled around frantically for some help. Closing your eyes, you tried to use your magic to heal yourself, but something was wrong. It wasn’t working which was scary to you since you’ve become so dependent on it. When you opened your eyes, you weren’t in the hallway on the floor, but face down on an operating table, staring straight through the headrest at several pairs of white tennis shoes.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“BP is eighty over fifty and dropping,” one of the nurses announced.

“Doctor,” a scrub nurse said, holding out a scalpel to one of the brothers.

“What?” Sam asked, exchanging glances with his brother.

“Fuck, do something. One of you,” you hissed from down below.

“We don’t know how to use any of this shit,” Sam whispered to you.

“Figure it out,” you snapped.

No one did anything for a while, and the nurses began looking at each other worriedly as you bled.

“Fuck this,” Dean muttered to himself before speaking up to the nurses. “I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey.” Sam and the other nurses looked at him silently, not sure how to react. “Stat!”

As soon as the order was barked, the nurses scrambled to get the things that Dean requested. When he got everything he needed, he began sewing your skin up like he would do normally if one of you got a wound from hunting.

“We okay? How's it looking?” you asked when you didn’t feel anything else happening.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you,” Dean grinned.

Even at this stage of your relationship, he still managed to make you blush like a schoolgirl. The tennis shoes in you view walked away, and you stared at the blue carpeting. There was a shift in the air, and you no longer heard the clanging of metal that is normal in an OR. Replacing that, clapping started erupting and lights started flashing. The blue floor transformed into two blue doors that opened.

No longer were you on an operating table but strapped to a machine that has a slot for a pole with two large balls at the end that were roughly the size of your chest. Sam and Dean were in a similar position, but they were standing in shoes glued to a platform with only one ball attached to a pole. A Japanese man come out of the doors you were staring at with two women trailing behind him.

“Let's play Nutty Cracker!” he yells, and the audience sheers. He says something in Japanese before pulling out cards from his jacket.

“Sam Winchester,” he said, speaking the question in Japanese. What was the name of the demon you chose over your own brother? You three didn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but it didn’t matter to the man.

“Countdown!” he announced once he was finished.

The big countdown clock started ticking backwards from twenty.

“Uh, what am I supposed to say?” Sam asked you and Dean.

“You think I know?” Dean screeched.

“Uh, I don't—I don't understand Japanese,” Sam said to the host who only repeated the question in his native tongue. “Is he screwing with me? I—I can't speak Japanese.”

The screen behind him reached zero which sounded off a loud buzz. The host said something in Japanese, saying the answer in English.

“Ruby! I'm sorry, Sam Winchester.”

“Sorry? Sir? For what?” Sam asked in a panic.

The host could only laugh just as the ball attached to Sam’s platform rushed up and whacks Sam in the crotch. Dean is clearly horrified, and Sam doubled over in pain as much as he could. The crowed cheers at this, but you were growing angry at the Trickster for doing this to you. Your eyes shined a bright blue in an attempt to save Sam some of the pain, but when you moved your hands up to use your magic, it shortened out and fluttered away in sparks.

What the fuck was going on?!

“Nutty Cracker!” The host yelled.

“Sam?” Dean asked. His brother makes an inarticulate noise in response. “You okay?”

Sam could only glare at his brother since he couldn’t seem to form the words on his own. Dean looked at his own platform, saw the ball, and began to panic.

“I can’t use my magic. Something is very wrong!” you urged.

The lights on the door began flashing which could only mean that someone or something was coming through those doors.

“What now?” Dean groaned.

The door opened to reveal Castiel, and the crowd cheered at his presence.

“Castiel?” you gasped.

“Is this another trick?” Sam asked once he gathered the nerve to.

“It's me. Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Us? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You've been missing for days.”

“Get us the hell out of here, then!” you yelled.

“Let’s go,” he said, raising his arms to touch Sam and Dean on the forehead.

However, after taking two steps to you, he vanished in the same manner as the Trickster did on the set of Dr. Sexy MD.

“No, no, no, no,” the host tsk’d, and reached into his jacket pocket for more cards, “Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels. Dean Winchester.”

The host moved onto the next brother and asked a question in Japanese. Would your mother and father still be alive if your brother was never born?

“Countdown!”

“What do I do, what do I do?” Dean panicked when he saw the clock count down from twenty. “I don't wanna get hit in the nuts.”

“I don't know, I—I—I—wait!” Sam gasped.

His mouth began moving, but you weren’t really focusing on his words. Your blood began to boil at the games the Trickster was playing on the three of you. He doesn’t get to come into your life and start screwing with it. Your magic worked before, and with a little more concentration, you knew you would be able to use it to get out of these binds.

“Screw you, Trickster,” you glared, using every ounce of strength you had to get out of the binds.

The countdown reached zero, but before it had a chance to buzz, Dean pressed his button. Your magic bubbled up inside of you before tipping over the edge. Dean answered the question in Japanese just as the metal covering your chest blew up. The metal pieces flew all across the stage, and everyone stared at you in shock. Stepping off your platform, you glared at the host in anger.

“Tell the Trickster he can kiss my ass.”

“Dean Winchester! The Nutty Cracker Champion!” the host changed the subject, congratulating the winning brother.

“We play the roles to survive, but I wouldn’t advise doing that again,” Sam said to you.

“Yeah, I’d like to see him stop me,” you growled just as your eyes flashed bright blue.

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[q-and-afterlife]

from yahoo: “My wife changed Facebook status from “Married” to “Widowed”. Should I be worried?”

Kakyoin: Ok. Ok anon I don't know how to break this to you but. You're dead. Just plain old deceased. If not, you will be in the coming days.

Narancia: Yeah, sorry bro but your time is UP.

Caesar: You should try to test if she can see you, and if she can then watch her reaction.

Narancia: Yeah! If she can’t see you, there’s your answer. If she can, RUN

Kakyoin: Ok well clearly they can still access Facebook, so if you ARE dead I have wonderful news: You're haunting some shit.

Narancia: Oh good point! Start flicking lights on and off and tossing shit around the kitchen!

Caesar: Lucky bucky, I wish I could haunt Joseph. Actually, can we haunt people?

Narancia: Oh fuck, can we?

Kakyoin: I don't think so, I think we just gotta look. Apparently Polnareff can though? IDK what's up with him.

Narancia: I wish I could haunt Mista. I found out he short-circuited my boombox with Sprite when I was alive.

Caesar: Damn, too bad. Have we actually tried?

Narancia: I haven’t really thought about it... Maybe I’ll think really hard about tripping Mista up in the street and see if it happens.

Kakyoin: Using your ghost powers to torment the homies. I've taught you well.

Caesar: I wish I could haunt Joseph without giving the old geezer a heart attack.

Kakyoin: How is Joseph even still kicking? He was old as shit when Reimi showed up and its been like, 10 years since then at least?

Caesar: 20 + 50 = 70 + 11 = 81 + 10 = 91

Narancia: HE’S NINETY-ONE? HOW IS HE ALIVE?

Kakyoin: Damn and he was already senile at 81? Seems accurate for him.

Narancia: [Laughing] True.

Caesar: Honestly, I should haunt him. He's been alive way too long.

Kakyoin: Just go ahead with that heart attack. You've already undied once, it's gotta come back for ya at some point.

Narancia: True, dude’s probably cheating death daily! Hey, now that's a point; if the asker isn’t dead already, what if they just try REAL hard to stay alive? If your wife’s tryna kill you, kill her first!

Kakyoin: Yeah! I mean I'm dead because I wasn't trying hard enough. Also because DIO hates gamers but that's besides the point. Change your status to widower.

------------------------

[trainsinanime]

Red Web Mystery Reviews

Red Web is a podcast by Rooster Teeth featuring two guys from that whole Achievement Hunter thing that I can never tell apart (but you don’t need to know anything about this) about unsolved mysteries that often but not always have something to do with the internet. Let’s review the episodes out so far, because… well, no reason, honestly, I just wanted to.

Lake City Quiet Pills

Based on their information presented here, this whole thing and their explanation for it seem plausible enough. You have to assume that this group of apparently assassins is kind of bad at operational security, but there’s actually a lot of cases where big criminals got exposed because they used the same URL or E-mail address or similar.

Satoshi Nakamoto

I already knew about this beforehand, and I would say they did a good job explaining it. Personally, I think they should have gone into a bit more of how much a shit-show the whole Newsweek Dorian Nakamoto thing was; in short, there was no reason to believe this person had anything to do with Bitcoin, he didn’t even speak good english (which is probably what caused some of the misunderstandings), and it was both a huge embarrassment for Newsweek (at least I hope they felt embarrassed) and they needlessly hounded a completely uninvolved person for this.

But then they get into new evidence, and we see a problem that I think is a bit systematic: They don’t really go into how trustworthy the evidence is. Specifically, they say that the one person who can cast light on this might be… John McAfee. Fucking John McAfee. Seriously, that guy?

For context: John McAfee did indeed create the antivirus company that still bears his name. But he sold it in the 1990s, and thanks to money and drugs, he’s just gotten plain crazy ever since. There was the whole thing where he was implicated in a murder in Belize a couple of years ago; he kept blogging from a jail in Guatemala, later returned to the US, and keeps being part of outlandish schemes (including two presidential runs, though he failed to get the nomination for libertarian candidate both 2016 and 2020), controversies, and supposedly super-awesome tech startups that never go anywhere. It makes perfect sense that he’d claim to be involved in the creation of Bitcoin. It makes no sense whatsoever to believe him. If you’re interested and have way too much time, read what El Reg has to say about him.

Mortis

Oh god. This one makes me both want to laugh and cry. Mostly laugh, to be honest, because it is such an obvious nothing burger, but also weep for the internet that was.

The story is that they found a participant in an early internet warez network who wasn’t that great at OpSec. This is only fully revealed at the end, and they don’t even seem to have noticed that this case is clearly and completely solved.

Most of the humour for me comes from the fact that they’re rediscovering the old pre-social web, and are convinced that it’s all weird and nefarious. Why would one person register websites for their interests, and then never do anything with them? Because that’s what the internet was like back then in the late 1990s and early 2000s! Hey, look, here’s my ugly special-interest website from that era that hasn’t been updated in years and isn’t going to be updated any time soon either. That’s just what was normal back then. Same with a website for every person, or trying to do your own garage sales via your website. That was the thing to do back then. And yes, obviously it sucked and didn’t work very well.

They even realise that this is what „might“ have been going on, and theorise about this hypothetical early web. „Maybe if there was some website that linked all these together and allowed you to search“ - yeah, those existed. Digg and Technorati and Del.icio.us, remember those? All bought by Yahoo and promptly forgotten. And to be fair, they never worked as well as real social networks did.

But back then we had this glorious freedom. No sudden porn bans like here on Tumblr; no need to match any predefined template for what posts are, no user tracking by Facebook, nobody telling you that you’re tagging your posts wrong…

It’s understandable why we lost that web. Linking together is much easier if all content is owned and controlled by like four companies. It also makes it much easier to set up a new account; setting up a new website is just a lot of pain and knowledge you have to have that you don’t necessarily want to have.

But now we live in our monocultures and must live with whatever content decisions our corporate overlords make and then sell us as „community standards“, and the wild and weird web that we used to have is only a memory. And sometimes not even that; sometimes these new young kids treat it as a „weird nefarious mystery“. Actually, I just looked it up, and Alfredo and Trevor are both around 30, just a few years younger than I am. They were alive for at least the tail end if this. These guys could have known this shit!

So, yeah, the story here is not the mystery; it’s a lament for the web we lost.

D.B. Cooper

Again one I already knew, and I think they gave a good overview. Personally I’m in the camp of people who assume that he failed to make a safe landing.

Happy Valley Dream Survey

This seems vaguely interesting. One thing that kind of annoys me about this podcast is that they (well mostly Alfredo) generally assume that everything strange is necessarily nefarious, without any evidence. The whole thing here leads nowhere, after all.

Lead Masks Case

Again, I’m not sure how much weight to put on the other evidence they listed, especially that whole supposed UFO sighting. Yes, that one woman may have been very respected in her community and/or had a high social status, whatever that means. But the thing is that rich people who are super-involved in their church community or whatever can still (through no fault of their own) be unreliable witnesses and invent things that weren’t there, or not the way they were described.

Cicada 3301 (parts 1 and 2)

Personally I find this one less interesting because it’s not a mystery, it’s a riddle, and that’s way less fun. Much of the circumstances are weird enough, I guess.

What confuses me the most about this is how it’s supposed to be a recruitment tool, but it doesn’t seem to be very good at that. A lot of the steps don’t really seem to be that difficult and require just some fairly standard hacker skills. This is similar to the Satashi Nakamoto case, where one hint was „knows C++ programming“. Lots of people know that, and it’s something you can totally teach yourself. And if the people who were recruited through this were really supposed to program software, well… why did no part of this test whether they could do so? That’s a whole different skill. My conclusion is that this Cicada group is either a long con or a group that is nowhere near as smart as it thinks it is.

One thing to note here: They just casually assume that the FBI and NSA and so on are monitoring the whole internet, in real time, all the time. Which is true, we know that thanks to Edward Snowden. Isn’t that much more nefarious than any of the other mysteries here put together? How did we get to a place where Americans both think „this is the country that has all the freedom“ and „if you say or search for the wrong things you’ll get put on a government watchlist that’s just normal“ at the same time? Pervasive monitoring of a population is pretty much the exact opposite of freedom, but apparently we all in the western world just take it in stride anyway. That’s nothing to do with this podcast, though.

Conclusion

Generally okay podcast. The hosts are good storytellers, even if the stories are sometimes a bit shaky. It is at least at no point overly gross or insultingly stupid (unlike the official Rooster Teeth Podcast, which is both). So I think I can recommend it if you need something, anything to fill the quiet, and you’re already out of episodes of Black Box Down.

[sally-mun]

How long have you and your partner been together? I knwo you've said it's been years but how long exactly?

It depends a little on how you look at it, because there was a big gap in there for a while. Our current stint is around a decade, but if you count when we FIRST started RPing, it’s actually closer to two decades.

Here, let me just do it like this:

1997-2005(ish): Yeah, my RPing dates back this far (probably farther back than some of you have been alive, oof). Back then the internet was still SUPER new, so there weren’t a lot of ways to hang out online beyond message boards and chatrooms – and you were NEVER supposed to go in chatrooms, because that’s where all the stalkers were! However I’d come across this Sonic webpage that I thought was super cool, and in contact info of the gal that ran it was linked a chat where she was known to hang out. It was back during the days of GeoCities (before Yahoo even owned it), and there were only a handful of chatrooms on the site in total. Among them was a room simply called “Games Chat.” I decided to take the chance and went in hoping to find the girl that ran the website. I never did, but this was my first introduction to RPing!

So for those who’ve never done this format, it’s kind of a free-for-all. Whatever screen name you log in with is your character, and everything happens in real time. Your turn is basically one line, and it can be dialogue, *actions*, or both if you could fit them. Yes, the turns are small, but the chatroom format meant that turns were taken rapidly, and it actually covered a LOT of ground in a short amount of time. You could do a single session and call that a day, or you could keep meeting up with the same people over and over to do a continuous game/story. There were basically no hard rules, just ones you established yourselves either before you started or mid-game ((via talking OOC)). Regulars came to know each other while other faces slipped in and out in a flash. Canon characters and OCs basically shared equal footing. It was exciting and fast-paced and I loved it.

Over time things changed a bit; GeoCities was bought up by Yahoo, and at that time “Games Chat” was changed to “Anime Capsule,” since I guess someone on the back end noticed that we were talking/RPing way more about anime than about video games. After a couple years of that, though, Yahoo decided to shut the chatroom down all together – but fear not, one of our users set up our own Anime Capsule on his own sever! We continued there for a few more years, and the chatroom itself gained more and more features that made it an even cooler place, but I eventually drifted away from here as other regulars gradually dropped off. At this point, I lost most contact with my current partner.

Sadly, so far as I’m aware this chatroom no longer exists.

2006-2011(ish): With the Anime Capsule behind me, I was invited by @fini-mun to a forum RP with a bunch of my friends (many of whom are even here on Tumblr now – hi guys!). This was my first time using a message board for gaming purposes, but I really liked it. The downside is it’s much, much slower than chatroom RP, but it was fun to get to use actual prose and narration. This RP is what made me realize just how much I enjoy writing, and it’s more or less when I transitioned to seeing myself as a writer instead of an artist (which is funny in a way, because looking back on my old threads there I was SO TERRIBLE, but hey that’s growth I guess).

For those who’ve never done forum RP, it’s MUCH more structured. There’s an area specifically for character profiles, another area specifically for OOC discussion, and then an area for the actual RPs themselves. Each thread is a specific area and time, and the board maintains a single, continuous continuity. If a character enters one thread, they can’t simultaneously be in another, because all threads are part of the same canon. When all characters leave a thread, that particular thread is archived, and then a new one is started whenever a character comes back to the area. This particular forum also had an “off-canon” area, which was specifically for silly OOC threads, “what if” scenarios, or ongoing jokes.

This was a SUPER tight community for me. We were a fairly small group and kept the forum private, and only got new users if one of us specifically invited someone. It operated pretty well for a few years, despite being a group of only about 15-20 people. I eventually left this group after an incident went down which changed things in a way that could never really be undone. The forum was different, the group was different, and most importantly, I was different. I did my best to linger for a while but it just wasn’t working for me anymore.

This forum has undergone a few changes, but still exists! You can find it here, or message @jammerlee if you have questions!

2008-2010(ish): In the midst of the forum RP, I’d reconnected with several of my Anime Capsule friends on AIM, and we intermittently continued some of our games via AIM itself. This was nice for me, because it was like a throwback to my chatroom RP days, but on a much smaller scale. At this time I reconnected with my current partner and invited him to the forum RP, but he declined, as forum RPing just isn’t his jam.

For the most part, this didn’t result in anything particularly noteworthy, as it was largely one-off instances and a lot of OOC talk. I liked the focused one-on-one aspect of it all, and I definitely appreciated the rapid progress you can make in IMRP, since that was one of my favorite things about chatroom RPing. So, even though I was still at the forum at the time, this also became a regular RP method for me on the side. Over the years I intermittently attempted to get a couple of friends from the forum RP to IMRP with me too ( @fini-mun and @jammerlee being my biggest targets), but in most cases these attempts fizzled. I had a really fun Knuckles & Rouge story going for a while with Deebs, but that eventually died out because of…

2010-2013(ish): …the arrival of Tumblr! I ended up here due to another invitation from @fini-mun, I’m assuming because we’d both left the forum RP and our IMRPing was inconsistent. It’s probably needless to say, but Deebs made a Finitevus character blog and I made a Sally character blog.

The thing is, I actually had a really tough time with Tumblr RP format. I just really didn’t like the serialized nature of the posts because it made it too difficult (in my opinion) to read through things in order, and nevermind the fact that there’s relevant info spread across multiple blogs! It just really wasn’t my cup of tea, but I still wanted to play here with the friends I’d made, so I decided to make my own version of Tumblr RP: I wrote my character blog as though Sally herself was blogging and getting used to using the internet for play instead of work. This turned out to be WILDLY successful, to the point that I even got a lot of fanmail from former Sally-haters telling me I’d softened or even completely changed their view of the character!

Although I don’t update it anymore, the blog itself still exists, and can be found here!

2010-present: This is the current RP with my current partner. Since I was no longer at the forum RP and Deebs had moved away from IMRP, I reached out to my ye olde partner and asked if he would have any interest in RPing a crackship that Deebs and I had been talking about (aka Knuckles x Finitevus). He was intrigued by the idea and we decided to give it a go, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s turned out to be the most stable game of our LIVES. We’ve been IMRPing consistently for the last decade or so, originally on AIM and then eventually moving to Discord when AIM bit the dust. We don’t RP every day like we used to when we were kids, and we take breaks from the main story to do AUs now and then, but for the most part we’re still chugging along and have no intentions of stopping anytime soon!

And even though these RPs are not public performance, apparently I’m writing summary TV shows of them now, so you can view those here at my blog as I intermittently work on them – and while you’re at it, you can support me on Patreon or Ko-Fi because these things take a lot of time and effort and it would really help me pay my bills!

[brionbroadway]

la la la totally innocently dancing around in your inbox lala laaaa la la.... lala..... COULDYOUMAYBEWRITENUMNERNINE?!

9. “My head hurts.”

—

“My head hurts.”

Even glances at Isak, smiling at the grimace he won’t dare call cute. This happens almost daily, so Even runs through the usual suspects. “Dehydrated?”

“No.”

“Too much caffeine?”

“Not possible.”

“Maybe it’s time to make that optometrist appointment? I know you’re scared of the puffs of air--”

“Do you like people shooting air in your eyes?”

“But it could help. And you’d look very cute with glasses.”

Isak rolls his eyes, proving they are fully mobile if not fully functional. “I can see, Even. For example, I see the pile of laundry you promised to fold today.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re not letting me leave the bed.” 

It’s true. Isak’s arms are wrapped around Even like he’s anchoring him to their bed, and he put up a fight when Even tried to get them water--so they wouldn’t get dehydrated, but Even won’t bring that up. 

“Well, you can’t leave me now,” Isak says. “I might be dying.”

“I am confident that you’re not.”

“I’m serious. You should Google it.”

Even grabs his phone off their nightstand. “Ok. I know we usually consult WebMD, but considering we’re both still alive, I think we’ve established that its an unreliable source.”

“I’m glad we’re taking a scientific approach to this.”

“Oh, here’s one. Yahoo Answers. ‘My boyfriend’s a hypochondriac. How do I help him?’”

“You’re going to feel like such a dick if I die.”

“I just think the internet might not be the best diagnostic tool. I mean, it was wrong about how very, very gay you are.”

Even grins, and Isak groans. “I never should have told you that.”

“I like that we have such open communication.” Even puts his phone down and kisses the top of Isak’s head. “Does that help?”

“Mm, a little. You know, last time I Googled headaches, it said that making out can help alleviate symptoms.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, peer-reviewed article and everything. It’s just science, I guess.”

“Interesting.”

“It was weirdly specific too. Kisses on the neck were required. And it said a massage could help--”

“I’m getting the feeling you’ve been playing me just to keep me in bed.”

Isak smirks. “Is it working?”

“Devious.”

“I’ve told you. You don’t want to know what I’m capable of.”

Even kisses him because, really. 

Like he’d want to be anywhere else. 

[detectivejigsawpines]

ORN-Part 9 (You can’t con a conman)

In case anyone’s interested, today is my birthday.  Also, I apologize if my portrayal of Bill does not live up to anyone’s expectations; I don’t have as much experience with writing his character, and frankly I feel dirty just getting in his head.

Should’ve known not to get my hopes up.

Stan had gotten stupid.  He’d been feeling happy for once, and forgotten his own advice: if something seems too good to be true, it probably is, especially if it’s random flying money that’s there for the taking.  Of course, he could use the excuse that he was dreaming, and so not exactly as clear-headed as usual, but to him it seemed like a pretty pitiful excuse.

And then the triangle showed up.

He was literally a talking, floating, one-eyed triangle.  With a top hat and a cane and a stupid little bow tie.

Stan briefly wondered if he was on something.

Except that Ford jumped, and let out a startled gasp; that made it more likely that this was real.

“Whoa, don’t have a heart attack, you’re not ninety-two yet!” the triangle said, circling Ford in a way that was the tiniest bit uncanny, in Stan’s opinion.  His one eye barely seemed to leave his face.

“Who-who are you?” Ford asked, eyes wide behind their glasses.

“Name’s Bill!”  He tipped his hat and tilted his body in a kind of bow.

Geez, how corny is this guy?

“And your name’s Stanford Pines, the man who changed the world, but I’m getting ahead of ourselves-hey!”

His little spiel was interrupted by a small flock of bills (the normal money kind) smashing into his hat and knocking it clean off.

Bill had to fumble to catch it, and then he took a moment to stare in bewilderment at the flying money as they did a loop in front of him.  Only then did he finally notice Stanley.

********

Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed like the edges of the triangle became tinged with red for a second.  But he blinked and Bill was completely yellow and black, eye creased in what was probably supposed to be a wide, friendly-looking smile.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Bill asked nobody in particular.  He floated the ten feet that brought him right in front of Stan, and tipped his hat again.  “Stanley Pines, I wasn’t expecting to see you here too!  Great that you could join the party!”

Instantly the little red flag, first created in the cave by that little note under the painting, was hanging in the front of Stan’s brain surrounded by bright flashing lights.

Jerk alert.

He forced his mouth to curve upward in a smile-the kind he used on a crowd that could turn into an angry mob if he wasn’t careful.

“Howdy.”  His gaze traveled upwards.  “Nice hat.”

Bill patted the brim proudly.  “Oh, this old thing? Yeah, it’s my favorite, decided years ago that it’s just right for my image!”

Stan really, really hoped this weirdo couldn’t read minds.

Bill floated back to Ford, waving a hand.  A few seconds later both men were startled by two fancy armchairs appearing behind them and scooping them up; Stan’s zoomed over until he was right next to his brother.

“I gotta admit, this kind of disrupts my plans a little,” Bill said, creating a chair for himself.  “I was gonna have us get to know each other with a game of inter-dimensional chess, but that’s not exactly your game, is it, Stanley?”

“There’s a reason why it’s called a ‘bored’ game,” Stan deadpanned.

Ford huffed in annoyance.  “Well, maybe if you had actually taken the time to learn the strategies growing up you would have more fun playing it!”

“I have a million better things to do than let my life go by trying to figure out how to make some stupid wooden figures move!  Besides, it wasn’t any fun playing against someone who beat me every time and rubbed it in my face afterwards!”

“I didn’t do that!”  Ford’s cheeks flushed.  Then, more hesitantly, “...Did I?”

“Yeah, ya did.  Up until we were twelve and I swore off board games forever.”

“SO,” Bill interrupted, “I was thinking, how about we play something more to your speed?”  A deck of playing cards and a few stacks of poker chips materialized in front of them, accompanied by three bottles of cheap-looking beer.

It was tempting; really tempting.  Just unwind a little, get to know this stranger by finding out how good he was at bluffing (he was pretty sure the game would end up between just the two of them; he’d always been able to play Ford for a sap).

And yet...something made Stan say, “I’ll pass, thanks.”

It happened again: the edges of the triangle took on a brief red glow.  But then he shrugged, and laughed dismissively.

“Sure, sure, I get it!  You’re feeling all business today!”

The items disappeared as soon as they’d come, and Bill leaned back, folding his arms behind his...head?  The spot behind his eye.

****

“So, I bet you’re both wondering why you’re here.  And I’m not talking in the philosophical sense.”

“You...you said something about me changing the world?” Ford asked, tilting his head; his eyes had brightened the way they did every time a teacher praised him for figuring out an answer nobody else in class had.

“Riiiiight, yes!”  Bill waved a hand. “Long story short, I’m what I guess you could call a muse.  Once every hundred years I pick the most brilliant mind on earth, and offer to inspire them in their life’s work.  And this century, Stanford, you are the lucky guy!”

Ford’s jaw dropped.  After a few seconds he managed to stammer out, “M-me?  You think I’m-”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so modest!  You think anyone else in the world has as many PhDs as you do?”  Bill leaped out of his chair and glided over, stretching one of his tiny arms and wrapping it around Ford’s shoulder.  “Not to mention nobody seems to have ever noticed how freaky this little town is, let alone bothered to study it in any kinda detail, before you showed up!  Someone as observant and talented as you deserves to be recognized for it!”

Ford was looking a bit overwhelmed by so much praise at once, but at the same time he was starting to grin like an idiot.

“So, is it a deal?  You wanna let me stick around ta give ya some help, Stanford?”

And at that point Stan decided that enough was enough.

He cleared his throat, loudly; both his brother and the triangle freak startled and whipped around to stare at him.  Evidently they had forgotten his presence, big surprise.

“So, uh, what other yahoos have you been a muse for?” Stan asked, eyebrows raised in mock curiosity.

Bill reacted naturally enough; he waved his free hand lazily in the air.  “Oh, all the great minds from this dimension-fellas like Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Nikola Tesla, people like that.”

The mock curiosity became mock surprise.  “I thought da Vinci and Michelangelo were alive at the same time.”  Hey, what do you know, he did remember something from high school world history.

“...What’s your point?” Bill asked.

“You said you picked one mind a century.”

Again, the triangle tried to play it off.  “Eh, I was feeling generous that century. Gave old Mikey a few pointers on that chapel roof of his.”

“...Right.”  Stan sat back in his chair, arms folded.

Bill was just turning back to Ford, probably about to reiterate his question about whether they had a deal, when Stan asked, “Why was there a warning not ta summon you?”

The triangle looked back at him, now with visible exasperation in his eye.  “What?”

“In the spot where we found the thing talkin’ about how ta summon you, there was a note at the bottom sayin’ not ta read the inscription.  What was that all about?” He tilted his head a little. “You get an unhappy customer last time or somethin’?”

Bill groaned.  “Ugh, Stanford, your brother always this much of a buzzkill?”

“It’s just a question.”  Stan spread his hands innocently.  “I wanna make sure we know what we’re gettin’ into before makin’ any decisions, cuz I read that thing too.”

This time the whole triangle turned red.  But with a visible effort he calmed himself.  “Okay, okay, I’ll give you a few minutes to figure this out in private.  But I need ya ta make a decision quick; I got a few runner-ups out there who’ll probably snap me up in seconds if you turn me down, Stanford!”

He snapped his fingers.

********

Stan’s eyes flew open; they were back in the cave.  Thankfully the lantern was still lit, but the light had dimmed while they were asleep; he leaned over to it and turned it up.

And then he got a good look at Ford’s face; it had become flooded with red, and a vein was throbbing in the side of his neck.

Uh-oh.

********

Well, on the one hand, Stan's not buying Bill's BS. On the other hand, Ford is more than a little p_ssed at him right now. ...The latter could be a problem.

[glitchtrapfan]

A Brian Dump Story.

Max G was setting up for his next episode of Brian Dump, He was about to get his camera set up when he hear the honking noise from behind him.

“Toy story 4 Really Max, Couldn’t come up with something more better.”

“Well I must talk about the ending and how I never cry during it.”

“Tell that to all the use tissue paper in you trash.” Goofball was being annoying as always.

“Goofball have you ever thought that maybe one time I want to make a review without you interruption me.” Max says turning around to face him.

“No not at all, I want you to suffer all the time.”

“Well I wish you disappeared for a day.”

“That really hurts my heart.” Goofball extend his heart to Max’s face.

“Well I will see you tomorrow, see you in hell.” Goofball slowly floats away in the shadow’s.

“What did I do to deserve this.”

“Being a asshole.” Burnbot said on the screen.

“Well that’s least of a reason.”

Max went to bed for the day, he must deal with Goofball as always.

The next day Max was doing his episode as always expect something was off.

Goofball was not showing up, he usually show’s up to annoy him.

“And that’s why I was not sad during the ending of Toy story 4.”

Max waited for Goofball to appear.

“Max what are you doing?” Burnbot said.

“I’m waiting for Goofball to show up, he’s coming any minute now.”

12 minutes pass.

“He’s not coming.” Max turn the camera off and went looking for Goofball.

“GOOFBALL!” Max yelled trying to find him.

Max saw a piece of paper on the table of his living room.

“Dear goofball the land lord will be coming over to pick you up and bring you to hell or heaven due to the fact that new owner of the apartment has lived there for over a year, Water will come and see you.”

“Goofball is leaving.” Burnbot said sadly.

“YAHOO!” Max was dancing around, finally his worst enemy was gone.

“I say that this was a great day.” Max lays down to bed.

30 seconds later.

Max gets up and goes next to Burnbot.

“We need to save Goofball.”

“I thought you hated him?”

“I do but without him my review’s will be less entertain and the fans will come and kill me.”

“What should we do.”

Max had a plan that might work.

Land lord water goes into the apartment complex and makes his way to Max’s room.

He knocks on the door and Max open’s it, he was wearing a suit with a top hat.

“Good day mister Water, I’m Goofball.”

“Goofball you look more alive.” Water was a red ghost with a hat and mustache.

“I possessed the body of max and became him.”

“Well let me inside, we need to talk.”

Max let him in and Water look around.

“Well I must say it looks better then most apartment’s, make me my food.”

“Food?” Max said.

“Yeah I need food, you know what ghost like.” Water goes into the kitchen.

“Burnbot I’m fuck.” Max whisper into Burnbot.

Max puts jelly on the plate and put glue on it.

“Here you go sir.” Max hand’s him the plate.

“Blue slime, my favorite.” Water says eating it.

“So Goofball How did you die again?”

“I died my a car accident.”

“It says you died in your apartment.”

“I crash into my apartment.”

“Well your now lying and also this is just jelly with glue on it.”

Max was silent until Goofball show up.

“Max why do you look like a actual person and not a zombie.”

“So your not the real Goofball, I knew it because when ghost possess people thier eyes disappear.” Water says.

“Max I’m sorry you have to know that I’m leaving but hey you always said you didn’t want me so you finally getting your wish.”

“Max move along, me and Goofball need to talk.”

Max should be happy, Goofball was annoying and a pain in the ass and he’s finally leaving, so why is he angry.

Max gets up and throw’s his hat on the table.

“Well You can’t take Goofball because he’s my roommate.”

Goofball was surprised at what he said.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well me and Goofball live here together so that means you can’t take him.”

“Sorry but the rules say he needs to go even if he still lives here.”

“Can I see the rules?” Max ask.

Water hand him a book, Max burn it with a lighter and throw it out a window.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Water says.

“Well I just broke your rules so he stays.”

Water pulls out a gun. “I’ll shoot you now if you don’t leave.”

“Kill me then, Goofball can then finally live here without me.”

Water was about to shoot but Goofball hits him with a rolling pin.

He hits him over and over again, his face look like a pancake.

“Help me bury the body.” Goofball says as Max And Goofball bury the body outback.

They go inside and lay on the couch.

“Well I just committed murder.”

“You did what you had to do.”

“Max Why did you not let me go with him, I thought you hated me.”

“I do but I would be lonely without you, I got nobody to talk to.”

“Burnbot and Adolf.”

“They can’t talk back.”

“You really like me talking to you, thanks for saying that.”

“Why did you hit the guy, I thought you hated me.”

“Well I would miss annoying you, Burnbot does not get annoyed.”

“I guess we both would be lonely.”

Max and Goofball lay there for a while.

“Welp I must.” He was cutoff by Goofball kissing him.

Max was in shock and tried to get out of it but he decided to let it happen.

Goofball back out and smiles.

“You just kiss a dead guy, your weird.”

“Your the one who kissed me.”

“Well you let it stay like that.”

“I wish I didn’t save your dumbass.”

Max couldn’t believe he falling for the little guy.

“Want to play uno.” Max says.

“Sure boyfriend.” Goofball said.

“I’m not your boyfriend.” Max says.

Today was just a normal day for them.

I wanted to make this story but worried people would hate it because I mess up the characters, I hope you enjoyed this little story and I’ll be busy for school this week, I’ll be home at 2:30 but might still take time to take a shower and eat. Brian dump was made by @hotdiggedydemon and you should check out his brain dump series.

[yuurivoice]

After these drastic changes, do you think tumblr as a platform will survive fir much longer?

Realistically, looking at the chain of events that have brought us here, Tumblr has managed to alienate itself from a PR standpoint both in relation to general public opinion and with its own user base. I don’t think Tumblr has panned out at all how Verizon/Yahoo wanted it to. Their hopes to take it from niche platform to mainstream fell flat, and the way they’ve monetized it doesn’t really lead me to believe they’re raking in the dough. 

Remember how Yahoo tried to clean up Tumblr during the purchase? Imagine being the suit that said “hey we need to have less porn on here if we want to succeed” then Tumblr failed miserably at keeping itself clean to the point where they were removed from the app store for the sheer amount of CHILD PORN that was on Tumblr...

If I was upper management, I’d be pissed. Heads would be rolling. I’d say turn adult content off and scrub it clean and whatever genius said “oh no, we can manage it, trust us!” would be fucking fired for incompetency. 

Then I’d ask, is it worth it? Is it worth the cost of keeping Tumblr alive? Is it turning that much of a profit? Will it continue to turn a profit after this? Because I feel like the exodus that is coming is going to go well beyond the scope of adult content creators. Confidence in Tumblr will be at an all time low, and the moment a better option comes along, people will happily drop Tumblr.

That’s how I see it going down. I don’t WANT Tumblr to die, I’ve said before that Tumblr is uniquely great at letting small artists build a following and even support themselves. Some sort of platform will spring up from this whole mess, hopefully being mindful of the lessons we’ve learned here on Tumblr and other websites.

I’m not trying to preach gloom and doom, I’m just being frank when I say that Tumblr has fucked up in a massive way, and the results will be significant.