#i actually drew this like a whole month ago and just accidentally forgot to post it LMAO

[wr0ngwarp]

house of leaves doodle

[pretty-volatile]

Friday, March 13, 2020 2:21 am

Heeyyyy, i'm still alive I swear! I haven't posted an actual journal entry in a while. Don't know what I should cover really. Um I do remember that February 21 was the last time I saw my therapist. I was supposed to see her later today, but because I missed the bus for my psychiatrist appointment back on February 28, I had to reschedule that which ended up be at literally the exact same time as my therapy appointment would have been. It's more important that I see my psychiatrist though right now because of medications and stuff.

I got back onto my meds consistently from the 21 through the 28ish. The 28th though I ran out of my Lamictal and keep putting off/not having time to go pick it up. Then from the 28th through March 6 I still made sure to consistently take my other two, Fluvoxamine and Wellbutrin, for a whole week. Then I ran out of my Fluvoxamine, so I took my Wellbutrin by itself for a couple days. Then Monday of this week, I forgot to take it (cause I had shit going on for class) and since then I just have been accidentally (?) missing it. But again, I see my psychiatrist tomorrow. I did place refills on my other two meds and I can pick those up once I'm actually outside of the house. Hopefully will get that stuff today. But uh yeah

It's been weird. I can tell that these meds are probably a good combo, when I remember to take them. I'm not feeling as bad as I thought I would, given the missing the medication stuff. I've had some moments where I have that totally unnecessary explosion of anger from something small, but I cooled down pretty easy or at least like I dropped it. It wasn't worth spending all that energy.

Um eating disorder stuff is better. I'm actually eating, more than before at least. Sometimes I feel bad about how much I've been eating or how I feel big/bloated, but my partner says I still look thinnish (relatively speaking, I'm overweight but thanks to weight distribution and all that jazz ya know).

As far as recovery shit, I'm low-key finding it easier to just exist than to worry about being in recovery. I don't know how to say it. Obviously recovery is the end goal and it's what I want/strive for, but I feel like for a brief time I was putting all this pressure and stress on myself that I have to keep working hard and to keep getting better and keep going forward and blah blah blah. But I feel like that made me or could have lead me to relapse. It felt like I wasn't going anywhere. Like I wasn't doing anything right. I kept pretending to be in recovery or at least trying to and I just felt stuck. I stress myself out every time I think about how I have to deal with this shit for the rest of my life. I stress out every time I repeat a mistake or when things don't change. I stress out when things change too. I was trying so hard to pretend that I was working at recovery, that once things got really tough this quarter, it was hard to get back up. It still is, but now I'm not having as much anxiety, not as much "voices" (read here: inner monologue/conscience/if anxiety had a voice, not hallucinations) keeping me up at night. I'm just trying to exist. I'm not worried about recovery. I'm just trying to exist day to day, in the situations I am given, and while I'm not super excited or anything like for the future or whatever, I'm certainly not dreadful like I was just a week or two ago. I just had to let it go. Recovery will be something I do as I go, NOT figuring shit out as I go while in recovery. I don't know how to describe it. It's like I was putting recovery as this giant neon sign above me which just like drew attention to me from other or from myself, which really just left me feeling exposed and vulnerable. But now recovery is like this worry stone that I can carry in my pocket for when I remember that it's there to help me. Rather than recovery being the focus, it's instead a skill that I'm still trying to pick up as I go. I guess you could say that is technically recovery? Or maybe like quasi-recovery? Like my partner mentioned? I had a real legitimate reason that I needed to relapse those times I did. It was an old comfort in times of new/extending trauma and bad feelings. A way to control the pain I was going through. I chose to do it. That's not recovery, to choose something you know is harmful to yourself. But now, right now I don't have that burning itch. I don't have that feeling of looking for a good enough reason to do it. I don't know if I'll do it again. I won't say I hope I don't, but rather, I hope I don't have a reason to. Because ultimately I did cut down on my self harming by a lot the past 5 years (er I should say at least the kind that I get scars from, there's lots of things considered as self harm but for this purpose I'm talking about something I struggled with since I was 13/14, for reference I'm 22 going on 23 in July). So I don't know. I just. I just need to exist. I can't, I can't stress myself with having such high expectations. I most certainly don't want to hurt myself or others and of course I'm continuing to work on making sure that doesn't happen and/or doing damage control if I does happen. But I just, I just want to wake up each day, figure out what I gotta do for that day, try my hardest to get it done, go to bed, and then start over again. Given the kind of mental shit I've got, for me it's very hard to make plans or to look at "what am I doing in a year" or other questions like that. I literally have to take it day by day or week by week or month by month. One day I'd like to take it year by year, and keep working up. But right now? Day by day, week by week. I am a fluid situation, a complex rotation, an unending carousel of ups and downs. But for now, that's okay. I just want my life, my life with my partner, our life to be the best that we can make of it even when our best doesn't seem like the "best" to others, but rather for ourselves

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire (136/158)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Thirty Five

2018

“Time is kind of silly in here,” Peter said. He was lying down on the floor. It actually kind of felt nice to stretch his back on the floor like that.

“You are kind of silly,” Bucky said.

It felt like they had been in the stone for forever. Except that other times it felt like he had been out in the real world just minutes earlier -- like his dad had been holding him so recently that Peter still felt his hands.

“I know that,” Peter said. “So, did you know that my dad actually drew up plans for your arm? I saw them once -- he was really surprised by all the work that those Hydra scientists managed to do since it was so long ago.”

“You’ve told me this before,” Bucky said.

“Oh,” Peter said. “I guess I forgot. I’ve probably told you everything already.”

Bucky nodded. He then, dropped down to the ground next to Peter. “Everything,” he said, “except for about this MJ girl.”

Bucky tended to bring up MJ whenever he felt like bothering Peter. It was all because Peter had been describing her to Bucky and Sam once for just in case anyone saw her around in their weird orange world -- the stone. No one had. It meant that she probably hadn’t turned to dust.

Then again, they were finding people all the time. And even though they had seen Quill and Drax they hadn’t seen Mantis and Peter knew for a fact that she’d turned to dust.

“You said her eyes were really pretty, Petey,” Bucky said and smirked. “Then, you told us that she has a really nice smile.”

Peter could feel his face getting warmer.

“I don’t have a crush on MJ.”

The thing was that maybe he did. Well, no, Peter didn’t know for a fact that he did. He just knew that he didn’t know how much time had passed in the real world and that he missed MJ and hoped she was okay. He hoped the same for Ned and maybe for everyone else that he was in school with -- even Flash.

“Are you teasing him again, Buck?” Sam asked with a smirk. “You know, I just remembered that MJ definitely knows he’s Spider-Man. So as far as possible girlfriends she’s definitely a good candidate.”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “If we ever get out of here.”

Bucky laughed and Sam grinned at Peter and Peter just groaned and he didn’t have a crush on MJ.

“I don’t know why I hang out with the two of you.”

“Because your other options include Strange,” Sam said.

“Or Quill. He was kind of weird.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re from the future?” Natasha asked.

Scott began to nod but then he shook his head. “No. No. I’m from a few weeks ago.”

“So you’re from the past,” Bruce said.

Next to Tony, Steve shifted, his arm brushing against Tony’s. Too much had happened in the last twenty minutes. The arrival of Carol, Thanos’ use of the stones, and then Scott Lang had arrived. Scott who had been presumed to be a victim of The Decimation, but who turned out to be perfectly fine but had appeared with some outlandish story about time travel.

Scott threw his hands in the air. “Yes. Sure. I went to the future accidentally when I was stuck in the quantum realm. I came back -- I meant to go back into the past so I could warn everyone about Thanos and stop the decimation from happening. I didn’t manage that so now I just want your help with going back far enough that I can actually do that.”

“Run all of this by us one more time,” Rhodey said. He had his arms crossed and he looked tired. They were all tired.

“I need to go back in time to warn all of you about Thanos,” Scott said. “Although considering how this conversation is going, I don’t know if any of you will actually believe me.”

Tony could tell that Scott was getting frustrated. Scott was also telling them something that could have sounded crazy except that Tony had been in space and fought a weird purple alien who thought that the way to save the universe was to get rid of half of the population. Tony had also seen first hard that what scientists had been theorizing for years about wormholes was true and that they could indeed bend space to make space travel faster and easier. So, why couldn’t time travel be possible as well? After all, time travel sort of landed within the same theories as far as Tony knew.

“The issue isn’t if we believe you,” Carol said. “I mean, I don’t even know you. Just explain it in detail.”

Scott hesitated. His eyes seemed to linger on Tony and then again on Steve.

“Sort of met you in the future,” Scott said. “Captain Marvel, right?”

“I’ve been called that,” Carol said.

“So what happened,” Steve said. “In the future?”

Tony was interested too. It couldn’t be good from the way that Scott was so insistent on going back in time to somehow fix the whole problem.

“When did you end up?” Tony asked.

Scott took a steadying breath. “I ended up in 2025,” he said, “and I went to find Cap because I was in California and I knew where I could find him. I saw a newspaper and he was the closest to me location wise.”

Steve in California didn’t sound right at all. “Why?” Tony asked.

“Why what?” Scott asked.

“Why was he closest to you?”

Scott stared at him for a moment. “Because he was living in Malibu. Your house to be more precise.”

Maybe they were on vacation or there was another explanation for it except that Scott only mentioned Steve. And Scott had to pause and he looked nervous, as if he were trying to figure out how to explain things.

“Scott?” Steve asked.

“I guess it doesn’t matter that you know because we’re going to change it so it won’t happen at all, right?” Scott asked.

Bruce caught Tony’s eye. Time travel was a tricky subject and while Tony knew now that impossible things could happen and that they did, they couldn’t know that things could actually change. Maybe it would create an alternative time-line or it was all some paradox leading to the same end. There was just no knowing.

“I don’t know if that’s how it works,” Bruce said.

Scott nodded.

“Tell us anyway, Scott. No use hiding things from us,” Natasha said.

Scott nodded. He motioned at Steve. “You were living in Malibu and basically avoiding the world. I saw a news report and looked at a newspaper. I -- this is hard to say. They were talking about a charity gala for the anniversary of your death.”

Scott was looking straight at Tony. There was no mistaking that he meant him. No one said anything. It was -- it was only seven years from now and Tony was dead. But what did that mean about everyone else? Peter? Did they manage to get everyone back or was it that they failed again except that this next failure led to his death.

Scott seemed to look around at all of them, his eyes settling on Tony again. “It’s why Cap moved to California. He retired. I sort of got the sense that he never left the house.”

Steve had gone stiff from the moment that the implication of Tony’s death was out in the room. Tony grabbed his hand, holding it tightly until Steve looked at him and he let out a breath. Steve’s fingers squeezed his back.

“I--”

“I know,” Tony said. “We’re not going to let that happen.”

Steve didn’t seem to believe him. There was a fear in his eyes that Tony didn’t see often and it was hard to take in.

“We won’t let that happen,” Carol said.

It would destroy Steve if it did. For Steve to retire and become a recluse and never see anyone. For him to move all the way to California away from everything and everyone that meant anything to him — it was more than Tony could handle to hear that. To know that his death could break Steve and make him someone else entirely.

“How did it happen?” He looked to Scott, not sure if he did want to hear it but needing to. They needed to know in order to prevent it.

“Thanos,” Scott said. “I, um, I saw some footage. From what I gathered, there was a fight and it didn’t end well.”

Of course it was Thanos. It shouldn’t have been surprising to him in the least and yet to hear it out loud -- to know that in some future that hadn’t yet happened he was dead and that they hadn’t managed to defeat Thanos--

“So we don’t win,” Tony said. And he died. And Strange had given up the Time Stone to save him for no reason.

Scott nodded. “Yes,” he said, “yes, you lose. The future is -- it’s not good. But if you help me go back further into the past then maybe we can do something about it. We can win. We can be prepared for Thanos. Steve said -- he said something about destroying a stone earlier.”

“Not that it would matter if Thanos gets the Time Stone,” Bruce said.

“Unless that’s the stone we destroy,” Tony said. “But, is that even possible?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. It’s possible she can destroy a stone,” he said and pointed at Carol. “Or Wanda.”

Tony knew that Wanda had destroyed the Mind Stone, but he didn’t know if she could have destroyed any of the other stones. Her connection to the Mind Stone made her power similar to it. But if a Steve from the future thought it was possible, then he had to have a reason for it. He did find it a little funny that they were back at the first idea he’d thrown out when Strange and Bruce took him to Strange’s place. The only thing that was Strange would never go for destroying the Time Stone.

Actually, Tony wasn’t all that sure that Scott’s plan was the way to go. If he showed up in front of them months before the initial attack when Thor and Bruce were still in space and none of them had any inkling on what was to come, Tony didn’t know if he or anyone else would just take Scott’s whole story well. Not to mention that if Wanda couldn’t destroy a stone that wasn’t the Mind Stone, they wouldn’t exactly have Carol around as back up. This was his life on the line -- his and the lives of everyone that had been dusted. Peter included. No. They had a real chance to get this all right and make it right again and Scott’s plan wasn’t going to work.

“Warning us isn’t going to do anything,” he said.

“But--”

Tony shook his head. “We won’t listen. You know we won’t. And even if we do, we won’t know the stakes or know how to make this right.”

Rhodey nodded along. “So, what do you propose, then?”

Tony didn’t really have a full plan in his head. He wasn’t exactly the one that was best with strategy. He looked to Steve and then back at Carol.

“If time travel is an option, then there’s plenty that we could do,” Carol said.

She was right. Scott looked a bit nervous and Tony had to wonder about him arriving at the wrong time than where he’d been headed. It made Tony wonder if Scott even knew how to control the whole thing in the first place.

“We can use time travel to help up,” Tony said. Then, he looked directly at Scott. “But, it seems to me like you don’t know quite how to control it -- otherwise you might have ended up when you wanted to be.”

Scott sort of grimaced and it was answer enough which meant that first they needed to actually figure out how to time travel. Because if Tony knew anything, it was that time travel was dangerous and messy and that all of this could end just as bad if not worse than before.

“What are you thinking, Tony?” Bruce asked.

The idea had formed for him before he even realized it -- coming to him because of something Carol had said earlier about going after Thanos and taking the stones and using them to set things right. Using the stones was probably the only way to undo the snap. But facing Thanos to take them seemed to lead directly to more defeat and his death too. Now, if they could time travel. It changed things.

“Well, what if we get all the stones before Thanos?”

Chapter One Hundred Thirty Seven

[breeja-mae]

The Slap

So I wrote this forever ago and though I would post it here. This is from the MCL episode that we need to bribe Amber to sleepover to better investigate Nath’s home situation. I don’t know about any of you, but I thought that was super weird and a little unrealistic so I re-wrote our Candy’s discovery scene. Was working on some first person for a class which is not my usual style but hope you guys like it anyway. Feed back encouraged and welcomed :)

TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, similar to what occurred in the actual episode.

I was about to cross the threshold back into the March chill when I realized I left my AP Chemistry folder in Nate’s room. My homework for tomorrow was in it so I figured I should probably grab it before heading out. While Nathaniel would most definitely remember to bring it tomorrow if I texted him, I would feel better about life if I got it now. I closed the door and turned, taking one step towards the ornate staircase in the decorated foyer when the unmistakable crack of skin on skin froze me in my tracks.

“Explain yourself.” Nate’s dad. His voice held this low, deadly tone. “It was a hard exam,” he stammered. “I was above the mean, I swear.” Another crack. I heard Nate whimper. Was this about the physics exam? The mean was a 75. Nate had the high grade with an 87. He even beat me and I had been pretty pleased with my 84. “But you still only achieved an 87. That is unacceptable.” Dear god, this was about the physics exam. Nate earned two slaps across the face because he didn’t get an A? No one ever gets an A on that exam! I wanted to vomit when I thought back on the time I accidentally walked in on him in the locker room. We had gotten back a pretty difficult AP Calc exam that no one did particularly well on, Nate included, the day before. The mottled blue and purple bruises and the pained movements of putting a t-shirt on were still seared into my mind. What had his father done to him? “It was the high grade! You can e-mail my teacher and ask—” Another crack. At this point I wasn’t sure if I should do something or quietly slip upstairs, grab my folder and bolt out the door to my car. “I will not tolerate excuses from you, Nathaniel. I raised you to be better than an 87. Now go upstairs and study the material so you won’t do so poorly next time.” The floor creaked as his father walked back towards the kitchen. I really needed to move. But I was frozen in place. I could hear Nate’s footsteps shuffling towards me but I couldn’t bring myself to run up the stairs and pretend I had been in his room the whole time searching for my forgotten folder. Remaining glued to the oriental rug, I could only watch as a swollen, red cheeked Nathaniel entered the foyer and stopped dead once he registered my presence. “I forgot my folder.” The intonation was wrong and choppy. I brought my index finger to my mouth and chewed the nail as Nathaniel continued to stare at me wide eyed, though the one seemed to be a bit swollen. “I’ll, um, I’ll just grab that and head out…” I finally found my feet and slowly walked to the stairs, up to Nate’s room. I heard him scuffling behind me, seemingly over the initial shock of seeing me. Once in his room, I dumped my bag on his blue bedspread like I had when I arrived a few hours before to work on our project. I walked over to his desk, put my hand on the blue folder and stopped for a second. The initial plan was to get the folder and leave, spare Nate the embarrassment of talking with me about what had just occurred. That would be an emotionally charged conversation and I was the last person on earth anyone would want to come to for that sort of interaction. Awkward and inability to empathize was my middle name. And yet… “I heard your dad hit you. Multiple times.” I turned, deciding I didn’t care that conversation would most likely be the most painful thing I’ve ever done. Child abuse was under the list of things I couldn’t accept. “I can see it too. Your cheek is swollen.” Should I have started out with a lead in? Lysander always says I’m too blunt about things. “Forget it, Breeja.” He lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose but stopped short. Scrunching his tender cheek caused him to inhale in pain. “Nate, you are in physical pain because your father hit you. I can’t just pretend I didn’t hear that.” “I should have done better on that exam.” “What?” “It’s my own fault.” He crossed his arms and looked away. Apparently his alarm clock held the secrets of the world in the glowing analog numbers. “What the hell!? That’s not your fault!” I cringed at my outburst. Shouting was not what he needed right now. “Sorry, I’m not good at this. Attempt 2. Nate, that’s not your fault. You did very well. I had second high grade and I only got an 84.” “If I had done well, my dad wouldn’t have—” He stopped short. “Say it.” He had to say it. Out loud. “Breeja, you need to leave.” “Not until you say it.” I crossed my arms. “Say what?” “Say it to me out loud.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He still wouldn’t look at me. “You do. Don’t lie to me.” There was silence for several minutes. Nate drew in a breath. “If I had done well my dad wouldn’t have hit me.” It was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it. “Does he only hit you?” “No.” “So your back? Your arms? That day in the locker room?” I probably didn’t want to hear the answer to this. But damn it, Nate needed to say this so I was going to listen. “He pushed me down the stairs.” He turned away from me all together as I inhaled. Definitely didn’t want to know that. “Nate…” I took a few steps towards him and wrapped my arms around his middle, burying my face between his shoulders much the same as I had done to Castiel a few months back. “He has no right to do this to you.” “I j-just need to do better is all. S-study m-more.” His whole frame was shaking. I couldn’t tell whether he was trying not to cry or just overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. I pulled back, appalled by what I heard. “Look at me.” He reluctantly turned, my hands skimming over the cotton of his t-shirt as he did. “No, you do not to do better. No, you do not need to study more. No, it is not okay that he hits you and no, it is not okay that you think it’s deserved. No one deserves to be abused by someone that should protect them.” I locked my mismatched eyes with his golden ones. They looked so old, so tired, so over it all. “I…he…” Nathaniel never finished his sentence. He suddenly pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head on top of mine. After I got over the initial shock of Nathaniel voluntarily hugging me, I moved my hands from his side to wrap him securely around the waist, hoping I wasn’t being as awkward as I felt. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest, inhaling fresh laundry and new paper; definitely a Nathaniel smell. The creaking of stairs pulled us apart. “You should probably go. You heard my dad, I need to study.” He crossed the room and sat at his desk chair, staring blankly at the backpack next to him. I shouldered my bag and walked to him, placing a hand under his chin. “You have my number. If you don’t feel safe, please, please call me. I’ll come get you.” I gently traced my cold fingers over his inflamed cheek. How were we here? Only yesterday I would have said Nathaniel and I were maybe friends and now I was tracing my fingers over his hot cheek, offering to pick him up whenever he needed me to. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze offering me a small smile. I smiled back. As soon as I was in the hallway, the smile dropped from my face and walked on autopilot to my car. His dad beats him. I opened the door. Dear god, he got pushed down the stairs for getting a B on one calc exam. I jammed the keys into the ignition and twisted. What else does his dad do to him? I rested my head on the steering wheel, not hearing the rock music blasting through the speakers. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

[tumblunni]

One of my other fave cuddles is my gengar named gaspar! I’m really filled with love for him too right now cos I’m learning ev training and apparantly he ended up being perfect for a speedy build, which just seems so cute and fitting for his personality! ^_^ I’m a bit tired so i dunno if I’ll ramble as much about him but here we go!

Gaspar is also a good friend: The Post

He also has a lil story behind how I got him, I think his is the more silly one. See, he’s actually a sinnoh reminder of mine! There’s one ~absolute asshole~ npc in sinnoh who offers you a trade of a haunter for a kadabra, but then when you get it you find out it had an everstone attatched. So she got a trade exclusive evo and left you without yours, and this is friggin AN INGAME NPC! It was so memorable to me because i got trolled by nintendo personally! XD So i wanted to spite that npc by adoring that haunter so much forever. And I kept him for the next decade and loved him a many! I actually kinda got attatched to him being stuck as a haunter forever, cos I didnt have any friends to trade with. Haunter has always been my fave of the evo line, even if i preferred its early design where it was shadowy and had a glowy outline similar to gastly. (I think that stopped in gsc? it was always pure purple in the official art but the spritework looked SO much better...) So I actually ended up irrationally upset when he finally evolved by accident during a trade like six years later. i totally forgot that he even COULD evolve! I feel bad that i was upset at my friend I did the trade with, I knew it was irrational but I still whined like a lil baby. I was all ‘ugh now he’s FAT’ like a stupid hypocrite XD But now that we have mega gengar and i have my own gengar plush at last, ive grown to like it a lot more. And honestly id still be just as attatched to my pokemon even if they completely change appearance, its not like I hated gaspar just because i didnt like the species as much. IM SORRY GASPAR FOR MY DUMB POUTING! You are so cool you changed my mind on gengars!!! Also its a nice excuse to redesign his really old gijinka form I drew once:

Anyway, his personality is a big ol childish goofy lug! He’s kinda similar to the personality i ended up headcanoning for my rotom gizmo all those years later. honestly i always have a sort of perspective on how all ghost pokemon fundementally are, even tho i still try and give them their own personality too. All ghosts are some form of cheerful tricksters, okay! Gaspar in particular is a big snickering lazy loaf of hugs who is absolutely addicted to sugary junk foods. ‘The wonders of the modern world!’ Even though he’s kinda procrastinatey about actually doing what he has to do, he’s very hyper about pulling pranks on everyone and generally being kinda like Loki from norse myth? He’s a bit more morally flexible than the others, or its more like he has trouble remembering what a lot of stuff was like from being human. (I’ll get to his backstory in a bit!) He’s definately a well-intentioned guy but he can be very scary to his enemies, and sometimes accidentally cause problems for the group cos his vices are easily manipulateed. He tends to get stringed along by his ‘ghost instincts’ to pull pranks even when its self destructive, and he always jumps in without thinking. A candy in the middle of a blatantly obvious trap = he registers the candy part and only gets the rest when he’s already captured XD But also he’s probably the member of the older pokemon that’s the most open about his affections. He’s one big ol jolly hug to everyone who asks, and everyone who doesnt! Even though him and Reaper can both be sly together, he doesnt understand this young man’s strange fascination with pretending he doesnt have emotions. Gaspar’s one big driving force behind all his various quirks is that he’s flawlessly honest. He finds it hard to keep quiet when he’s joyous, and everything is made of joy nowadays! He’s just really happy to be alive right now... or, well, “alive”. But also his easily exciteable nature means he blurts out all secrets with no restraint, and has trouble not throwing a childish tantrum whenever the tiniest thing goes wrong. Though, still, he’s very rarely ACTUALLY angry, and will forget about it in like ten seconds. he just kinda enjoys making a fuss XD Then again on the rare occasion he is mad it is because you HURT HIS CHILDREN, and you will really get to see why gengars are known as spirits of vengeance...

So yeah! Backstory! This was actually the first thing I thought up for him, and it shaped his whole character. Again, it all came from that one weird ingame trade! ‘Gaspar’ felt like an odd name to give a random trade, I mean its a cute pun but also its like an olden times name you dont hear often. So I imagined maybe this ghost is the spirit of a human from long ago, and obviously he’d be excited to try modern junk food, etc etc the beginnings of a character! But cos I am blessed with the ability to create sad headcanons out of everything, I... did that! Alas! I somehow got a really sad idea for who this mysterious old human nobleman could have been. I thought maybe he was a guy who was murdered and came back from the grave to take revenge on his killers, but then had to deal with still being stuck here even after his big quest was finished. Making a new life because he cant go back to his old one. Initially the idea was that he was a guy killed on his wedding day, hence the tuxedo in that old design. But he ended up feeling more like an asexual character as I developed him, so thats a bit outdated now. He’s just like the dad of a thousand kids and no wife. Its good that he’s finally happy nowadays with all these new friends! A shame it took that long though, he can barely even remember who he used to be. (A more cynical part of him thinks that maybe going senile is the only reason he’s able to finally let go, and he wonders if he missed many other chances to make a new family cos he was so hung up on mourning a life he couldnt go back to...)

Anyway, even though his powers were born from rage and hatred, he finds that becoming a ghost is the thing that helped him forget all of that. He just has kind of a childlike joy for this stuff. He claims its ‘pokemon instincts’ or whatever and he had no part whatsoever in his own development from a scary anger man into everyone’s dad, but honestly that just seems like he’s making excuses not to give himself credit. there’s nothing here but the fact that his fundemental nature is a kind man who can find wonder in the simplest of things. Yknow, when he isnt being distracted by great tragedy! It was just like ‘wow i’d never thought about it but gaining the ability to fly and walk through walls is pretty kickass’. Think of all the pranking potential! And he proceeded to distract himself from his loneliness by haunting the graveyard and running around wearing bedsheets. But at the same time sneaking around the town and doing good deeds for everyone, even if they were all terrified of him. And no matter how sad he got, he could be cheered up by the tiniest thing like just being able to see the sunset again. He always remembers how scared he was thinking that he was gonna die at such a young age and never get to do so many things... And then his loneliness started easing when he realized he could talk to other pokemon now, and he worked up the courage to leave his grave and travel the world in search of a new place to belong. Then... he ended up with a bunch of shitty trainers!! But at least thankfully he was finally traded to our protagonist and now things are looking up ^_^

Oh and yeah thats why his old design looked so young, even though he was always meant to be the oldest team member. (Not just chronologically I mean, he’s like 300 but he’s like middle age by ghost standards.) Tho really saying he died at a nebulous teen-young adult age was just my excuse because those were the only people I was able to draw at the time. And i was dumb and thought every other sort of more creative design was ‘ugly’ and everyone should be a generic anime bishie :P Honestly redesigning him to look like a cool cuddly butler or a circus ringleader or all the millions of gengar gijinka ideas would be a HUGE improvement for his character! Even if he’s childish he’s still the team dad, yo! Im just worried that I won’t be able to draw a spoopy action pose again, I always felt like that first pic was a huge fluke. It was my best piece of artwork for like four years straight, I barely ever improve :P Also I really liked his hair as a haunter, but funnily enough I designed him like a few months before Charon was revealed, lol. Now it just looks like i tried to copy him! Bishie teen gaspar loses a bit of the appeal when he’s stealing looks from old men XD I’m thinking maybe he could have a cute mustache of some sort now, in the shape of ghosty spikeys? or a top hat that’s spiky on top, or a bunch of other ways to make him resemble gengar’s mohawk without actually having one. Nothing against that hairstyle but it maybe wouldnt work for a middle aged stay at home dad whose greatest form of punk activity is eating frozen poptarts out of the box.

OH WAIT Maybe he could reuse this design I did of myself as a ghost for a meme??

“chubby characters are something I will never draw ever, they can never look cool” said the past bunni, continuing to be incredibly chubb srsly ditching the self hate and doing some stylization lessons is the only place where i can admit my art improved!