#i think the reason ive been freaking out so intensely the past few days is because ive been very sick

[sophiethewitch1]

Nrrrr I hate pain and I hate colds and I hate allergies and above all I hate the sun. Shittiest vampire in the universe award

[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part IV)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 3,429

Warnings/Tags: @tiktoktheclockisticking​ Bullying, Language, ANGST CITY, Alcohol, Side Iruka x Reader, Fem!Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: I’m fully expecting to get messages in my inbox that range drastically in forcefulness. Perhaps a “how dare you” or two. 

You stood outside of Shushu-ya, almost as if you expected to be told to come in. A silly notion. With a heavy sigh, you clenched the warped gift in your hands, starting to regret the shoes you wore among other things. But you know you couldn’t back out now. You couldn’t miss Iruka’s birthday. Your reluctant hand grasped the door and before you could chicken out, you heaved it open.

The group was easy to spot, even in Shushu-ya’s dim lighting. Everyone gathered around the bar. A few people sat in a large, open booth. The crowd made you nervous, but you couldn’t help but feel a semblance of relief. You weren’t the first one there. Iruka spotted you immediately and waved you over. You took a sharp inhale before forcing yourself across the restaurant with a smile. You were, at the very least, glad to see him.

Iruka got up from his spot at the end of the extensive, circular seating and greeted you warmly. Knowing him, he sat at the end just to see people come in the door. He extended his arms to you in a hug. You happily embraced him. It had been quite some time since you got to spend any quality time with your friend. You handed him his present.

“As usual, you’re always so thoughtful.” Iruka pursed his lips, a sentimental expression coming upon him. Even still, the corners of his lips turned upward into that classic Iruka grin. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s your birthday, Iruka. Of course I’m going to get you something nice.”

Iruka motioned for you to sit down and carefully placed your gift in the pile he had accumulated. You took a seat among two ninjas who you only knew by name. Iruka sat down next to who you were fairly sure you recognized as Kakashi of the Sharingan. The mask made it difficult to tell. You took your place next to Might Guy, the Leaf’s Green, Taijutsu Beast. You looked over to Iruka and wondered how he made such powerful friends. You supposed it was hard to not be acquainted with any famous shinobi in Konoha. Perhaps that’s what happened when you weren’t afraid to talk to people. You spied a few more of your colleagues around the bar, including your teammates from the last mission you took. They didn’t seem particularly pleased about your presence, but no one was going to impulsively make a fuss in front of Iruka.

You kept your head down and that’s where it stayed. The conversation went, for the most part, without you. You ordered a water quietly. You weren’t the type to drink, especially when you were as on edge as you were in this particular setting. The waiter set down your glass, making a sort of a sour face. You stared at the clear liquid, supposing that not many ordered water from a bar.

“That’s all you’re going to get?” You looked up into Kakashi’s intense eye. “You know you’re not on the clock, right?” He chuckled and you nervously laughed with him.

“Don’t listen to him.” Iruka rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his own drink. His kind gaze found yours. “You can do whatever you want, just know that the tab is already taken care of.” He looked past you and waved towards the bar. The bartender waved back.

“No, no. I completely understand!” Guy wrapped an arm around you, holding you a bit too close for the volume of his voice. You immediately let go of your drink. Your eyes went wide as he shook you with every word. “You gotta watch out for that hangover! Very smart! I commend you!” Kakashi tsked, tilting his head towards Iruka.

“Such a bad host, letting her sit next to Guy like that.” Iruka laughed sheepishly.

“Sorry,” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I guess the seat was open for a reason.” Guy pouted at the discourse across the table, arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Nonsense! Tease me all you like but I just know that… uh…” He turned to you with an outstretched hand and as much embarrassment as Might Guy was capable of. “What was your name again?” You took his much larger hand in yours and spoke your name, realizing that you hadn’t prior. He immediately shouted your name as if to commit it to memory, shaking you even harder than before. His shout got the attention of the rest of the booth and you suddenly your self consciousness skyrocketed. “—and we’re going to be best friends by the time the night is over! What do you think? You down for a party?” And suddenly you were expected to respond. You glanced around nervously.

“Um, yeah. Sure thing… I just think it’s really nice how everyone’s together.” Despite your response, you still felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. Sweat began to bead on your brow and your palms. You crossed your legs. “I feel like everyone’s always on missions so it’s nice to be among friends. And um, I can drink to that.” You glanced around the table once more, to Guy, to Kakashi, and then Iruka. Iruka’s eyes fluttered shut.

“I couldn’t say it better myself.” You raised your water weakly.

“Happy Birthday, Iruka.” Iruka raised his glass of sake and a roar went around the booth and extended to the bar. Someone hastily ordered a round of shots for the whole group. They came quickly, likely due to whatever likely large tip Iruka gave to the bartender.

One slid across the hard surface over to you. You gripped it between your fingers. The alcohol went down your throat with a steady burn. You let out a gasp with a bat of your eyes. The aftertaste of the ethanol burned your nasal cavity. Kakashi let out a deep laugh. Guy patted you hard on the back causing you to cough. Iruka smiled, ordering another round. You took another shot. People filtered in the door. And as the night went on, the three of you took to greeting Iruka’s guests along with him. The party crew quickly overtook the bar. A dull roar overtook Shushu-ya.

More words spilled from your mouth than you thought ever would in one sitting. Your three colleagues listened to you intently, jovially, and exchanged stories of their own. A small crowd gathered around your booth, members flitting from the bar and back. And for once in your life, people actually listened to you. You told your stories animatedly, waving your hands in emphasis. You took in the smiles around you, tales of missions and edgy impressions flying from your lips. Distracted, you hardly noticed the looks exchanged by your old teammates as they leaned against the low back of the booth.

“And I said, ‘You don’t need a rag, you need a towel’!” All those gathered around you burst out in hysterics. You felt the low rumble of Guy next to you. Iruka couldn’t pick his head up from the table. Kakashi yanked him up by his collar, revealing Iruka’s red, cackling expression. Kakashi snorted, dropping the cloth under his hand to cover his own face as he mocked his longtime friend. Joyful tears were still welled in your eyes when a slender hand clamped onto your shoulder.

You looked behind you only to become face to face with the kunoichi from your team. Her ever prevalent scowl remained plastered to her lips but they swiftly upturned into a sickly sweet smile.

“Hey, why don’t you tell everyone about our last mission? Or should I say, your last mission.” Your eyes widened and a chill coursed down your spine, remembering her unforgiving grasp on your hair following your meeting with the Hokage. You clenched your fists underneath the table, balling up the fabric of your clothing. What did she want from you? She crinkled her nose at you smugly. “Shy all of the sudden? That’s okay, I can tell it.” You heard Kakashi clap his hands together. You jumped.

“I’m always down for a good mission story,” He admitted eagerly. You shook your head vigorously.

“No, this one’s not very interest—” Another hard slap on your shoulder. Her nails dug into your shoulder.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. I think they’ll all find this very interesting.” The kunoichi settled into her spot behind you, shifting her weight as she leaned forward. With a finger, she pointed out your two other team members. “See we were assigned with this one to find a scroll in a territory suspected of being owned by Orochimaru. ‘Cause she’s a wonder at blending in, right? That’s what we were told. And of course you know how these things go. Of course we find someone. Some bitch of Orochimaru—”

And as she described it, you could remember the scene vividly. Your teammates were reckless in their fighting and overall poor choices for a stealth mission. Flashy jutsu corrupted the frame of the underground system. The walls began to crack and shake. Your enemy had been caught off guard and outnumbered. Seeming to be already injured, there was only so much he could do to fight back. That was how you met Kabuto Yakushi.

“And so she doesn’t even warn us that the tunnel is, like, about to collapse. Some freak earthquake or something. So the enemy is knocked out cold and we’re running and running to try to find a way out and—”

You dove towards him. You didn’t know what drew you towards him in the first place but that’s what you did. As your team left without you, you tried your best to save the young ninja who had to only be as old as you. You tried to drag him but either you were too frail or he was too heavy. Your second option. Your hands ignited in healing jutsu, flickering on and off. You were by no means a healer, but your only thought in your panic was to get him awake. And as the maze of tunnels imploded around you, your world went black.

“So we don’t see her for days. You know, we think she’s dead. So in the meantime, we check out the other places on our list. Nada. We’re about to completely give up and then, wouldn’t you know, this one shows up having spent almost a week in enemy territory holding the exact thing we were looking for. Zero scratches and she apparently ‘doesn’t remember’ anything about it. Don’t you think that’s funny?” The kunoichi motions to your other teammates.

“I remember it being very funny,” One huffs, arms crossed. The small surrounding crown had gone silent. You dared to look across the table. Kakashi sat with his arms on the table, wordless. Iruka pursed his lips, equally expressionless. He cleared his throat. An awkward overtone laced the atmosphere.

“Well I think that’s enough of that—”

“Well, I wasn’t done. Almost there, though, I promise.” The kunoichi held up her hand. “‘Cause wouldn’t you know it? When we got back to the village, we found out that the scroll was a fake.”

“Well,” You squeaked, “Later we did find out that it was authentic after all—”

“But that was later,” She snapped. She ruffled your hair roughly, giving your head a slight push as she finally took her hands off of you. “Still doesn’t explain where you got it from.” She leaned in towards your ear. “Traitor.”

“Okay that’s enough.” Iruka stood from his seat. He extended his arm towards the door. “You three have clearly had too much to drink. I think it’s time for you to go home.” The kunoichi scoffed.

“We haven’t had too much of anything,” She snorted with a roll of her eyes and opened her mouth to say more. Guy turned with the most serious expression you had seen from him all night.

“He’s giving you an out. I suggest you take it.” He told her and apparently, that’s all it took for them to leave.

Iruka apologized for your team’s behavior but said nothing more about it for the rest of your time present. Most of the partygoers stuck to the bar now. Everything was off and you knew it would be as long as you were there. Your friends could hardly look you in the eye properly. You remained for a little while longer, starting to feel dreadfully sober. And when you thought you wouldn’t draw too much attention, you announced that you were leaving.

“Let me walk you out.” Guilt rattled around in your chest. It was Iruka’s birthday and you ruined it, just like you thought you would. And yet, he still offered to walk you out.

You allowed it, suddenly finding yourself standing outside of Shushu-ya, Iruka by your side. Even as the door closed behind you, you could hear the sound of Konoha’s nightlife. You waited for Iruka to speak, but the weight on your shoulders became unbearable.

“I’m not leaving because of you, you know. I had a good time. I really did, so go back in there and know that, okay?” You tried to read his face. He looked conflicted and the pounding of your heart only increased.

“I just want you to know that you have a friend. Eh, friends. No matter what.” You blinked at him a few times. You didn’t like how he said that last part.

“No matter what?” You let out a nervous laugh for the umpteenth time that night. Your eyes wandered erratically. “What do you mean by that?” You were expecting some reassurance, but none came. Your mind filled in the blanks. You took a step back. He took a step forward. “No matter if I sold out the Leaf? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I-I didn’t say that.” He stammered. Suddenly frantic. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, you’re not denying it.” You gripped onto your strap bag. Another step back. Another step forward.

“I don’t think you sold out the Leaf. Not on purpose.” The tail end of that sentence stung. You began to tremble. Another person who thought that you were a traitor. “Listen, I had a student once. He’s out of the Academy now but he was in your shoes once.” You couldn’t look at him. You focused on your shoes, the shoes you’ve regretted wearing. “I know how guys like that are. I know how manipulative they can be, how they can convince you into doing something that you know you don’t want to do.” Your head snapped up.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t convinced to do anything wrong by anyone.”

“I know how kind you are. I know that you had a good heart. No one’s going to blame you if someone took advantage of that. I don’t care what happened. We’ve known each other forever. I’ll always be here for you.” Iruka gently placed his hands on your shoulders and his forehead against yours. You became cognisant of how violently you quaked. You didn’t even register his confession. The sharp burning between your eyes threatened to spill over into tears.

“Iruka, please stop. Just tell me that you believe me.” You gripped onto his forearm, wanting to feel a semblance of comfort. “I’m not a traitor.”

“I do believe you.” Unconvincing. You looked into his eyes, salty droplets now silently streaming down your cheeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Iruka nodded against you without a word. A beat. You gulped. “And Kabuto didn’t either.”

He pulled away, trying to fight a frown from crossing his face. You could see it. The realization morphing his features. Iruka tried his best not to show any of his mixed emotions, but he was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. The corners of his mouth twitched.

“Who? The bingo book ninja?” He shoved a hand in his pocket. He always did that when he was nervous. “No, I’m sure he didn’t. D-didn't do anything wrong.” Once again, unconvincing.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel well. Please, uh, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You didn’t look back. You ran home.

***

When you got to your apartment, you dropped to the floor. You scrambled for a kunai to pry open the floorboard. Throwing the plank aside, you plucked out the scroll. Unraveling it, you bit your finger, smearing your blood across the summoning symbol.

You were already starting to scurry off when Kabuto appeared. You walked right through the white cloud of smoke. He felt troubled, but that wasn’t something you picked up on. Kabuto immediately pulled out a scalpel in defense, ready for an emergency fight. You didn’t even tell him to lower his weapon. You didn’t blink twice. You stormed straight to your wardrobe, yanking out a large travel bag.

“What’s going on? I thought you were going out tonight.” Kabuto asked, but you ignored him, stuffing belongings inside the bag. You skittered frantically around the room, pulling sentimental belongings from your drawers and off your shelves. Kabuto looked on helplessly as you muttered to yourself. He could hardly catch you with how erratically you darted around your small living space. With enough calculation, he caught you, grabbing you by your wrists. You struggled against him. “Hey, hey, hey slow down. Tell me what happened.”

You looked up at him, rivulets still flowing from your eyes.

“Please, Kabuto,” You begged. “Let’s run away together.”

His immediate response was to let go of you, stumbling a bit backwards.

“What?” His mouth went dry.

“I—” You couldn’t even get your thoughts straight. You just spoke, everything spilling out of you. —“Please take me away from here.” Ever-suave, Kabuto found himself panicked.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve killed a lot of people for one thing—” You met his eyes, but in your haze you missed all that they told. You saw complete and utter rejection.

“Aren’t you the one who always tells me that you’re not my enemy? You’re all I have.” Betrayal. If Kabuto could name the expression that washed over your face that would be it. You wiped the wetness from your skin with your sleeve. “Please, you know I would be quiet. You could have any of my books. I don’t even care about shoes on my bed. I don’t even need a bed just please let’s go right now!”

And for all of his big talk, Kabuto was at a loss. He wanted to. More than anything he wanted to scoop you off of your feet then and there, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t an option. He couldn’t bring you to Orochimaru. You were supposed to be here in the Leaf. You belonged here in the Leaf. This was where you could be happiest, not on the run with him. He’s caused enough damage to your life.

“I can’t.” That was all he managed to make out without his voice cracking. And as he looked into your large, wet eyes, his heart shattered.

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I-I can’t. I—” He kicked himself. —“You’ll be happier here.”

“I’ll be happier with you,” You pleaded. You balled up your hands in the front of his shirt. “Please, I love you.” Kabuto diverted his eyes from yours, clenching them shut.

“No, you don’t.” He placed his hands over yours, gingerly trying to remove you from him but you stood firm. “You’re drunk. I’m sure that if you go to bed you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’m not drunk!” You argued, getting even more desperate than you already were. “You told me to gather up some nerve so here it is! I love you! Please let’s go, just you and me. We can start over—” And with a few quick hand signs, you fell asleep.

Kabuto’s hand hovered over your forehead. He could see your fear, feel it too. He caught you as you began to collapse and brought you over to the bed. Knowing your recovery speed, the jutsu wouldn’t last for long. Perhaps it would last a half hour, maybe less. Anyone else and he would have expected them to be out for the rest of the night. He covered you with your blanket and sat at the edge of the bed, ready to recast his spell when you began to come to for the rest of the night. He knew that if you kept talking, he would have done exactly what you asked. Kabuto buried his head in his hands and uncharacteristically, for the first time in years, began to sob.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

[goldenraeofsun]

Would you have me, would you want me?

Part I Part II Part III

Part IV - complete

Castiel jumps at the sound of voices outside. 

“Will we get in trouble if we’re caught in here?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Dean snorts. “Who cares. It’s not like we’re doing anything illegal in here. Just hanging out.”

Castiel bites his lip and gets to his feet. “If we’re only talking, then I suppose we should move to more sanctioned areas.”

“Sure, if you wanna be a total spoilsport about it,” Dean says, but he hops off the table and stretches his arms above his head. “Christ, I can’t believe my back hurts already.” He shoots Castiel a look. “Don’t tell my kids that. They already think I’m an old man.”

“If they think you act older than your age, I don’t want to know what they would think of me,” Castiel says mildly. He pushes his chair back under the table and starts for the door.

“They’d probably be hot for teacher.” 

Castiel freezes in his tracks. He spins on his heels to stare at Dean. “Excuse me?” 

Dean has the grace to look away. “What?” he says defensively. “The past ten years have treated you good, ‘s all I’m saying.”

“I - thank you?” Castiel says, taken aback.

Dean shoulders past him, saying brusquely, “Forget I said anything.”

Castiel doesn’t move he reaches out to grab Dean’s shoulder, thinks better about it, and calls instead, “Wait, Dean.”

Dean turns around, his face resigned. “What?”

“Why did you do this?” he asks, gesturing around the library. “Help me, I mean.”

“I told you, I owed you,” Dean says, but he won’t meet Castiel’s eyes. He looks like one of Castiel’s students. Like Alfie when Castiel caught him texting during class, or Ambriel when she forgot to do the reading.

“I don’t think that’s the whole story,” Castiel says evenly. “It’s been ten years, you could have let things lie between us.”

“But that’s just it,” Dean says, frustrated, “I can’t. I tried. Man, I tried so freaking hard.”

Castiel sucks in a breath, mind whirring. Dean had thought about him more than a few times over the past decade? Why?

“I was-” Castiel starts before breaking off into a different direction, “Dean, it was one night. One night together and a couple months of the cold shoulder. That’s it.”

Dean shakes his head. “Not for me, it wasn’t,” he says bitterly. “You have no idea.”

“Then tell me,” Castiel says, his tone brooking no argument.

Dean sighs. “I was so hung up on you. You were … so yourself. Doing your own thing, not giving a shit about what anyone else thought about you. And when I heard you were the one tutoring my sorry ass, well, I thought I was the luckiest son of a bitch in school.”

Castiel’s mouth falls open.

“And then I got to know you,” Dean says, his green eyes trained on Castiel’s face with an intensity he’s never seen before, “and you got along with Sam, and it was everything I’d ever wanted.”

“That can’t be true,” Castiel says, his voice shaking. “You left me. You left me there, in a house full of strangers. If that was how you really felt, how could you do that?”

* * *

Cas jumps at the sound of voices outside. 

The movement jostles the drips of semen on his stomach, and Cas grimaces in disgust. At some point after he’d orgasmed but before he jerked Dean off, they’d both lost their shirts. But he isn’t cold, not with them lying skin to glorious bare skin.

“Fuck,” Dean swears, his eyes going wide. He jumps off the bed. 

“What are you-” is all Cas can get out before Dean begins throwing clothing at him. 

“I’ll lead ‘em off.” Dean hops on one foot, yanking his pants up.

“Dean-”

“What?” Dean asks distractedly.

“I - we should talk.”

“Talk?” Dean freezes in place, shirt rumpled and cheeks red. “About what?”

“About what happened between us,” Cas says hesitantly.

Dean looks away. “I - sure - maybe. We were just letting off steam, right?”

Heart sinking in his chest, Cas nods. Yes, he desperately wanted to get off with Dean. But it was also so much more than that.

“I should really let them know…” Dean jerks his head towards the door and the people right outside.

“Yes, of course,” Cas says quickly. “We’ll talk after?”

Dean gives a funny little spasm that might be a nod.

Cas leans over to root around in the nightstand for tissues or anything to dry himself off. He settles for his briefs, a little damp anyway with precome. As he stands up to shove his legs into his jeans, Dean, already fully clothed, leaves without a word.

Numbly, Cas folds up his briefs and shoves them in his back pocket.

The voices outside get louder.

Vaguely, Cas can make out Dean telling the group he had to puke, and the downstairs bathroom was occupied. Cue the laughter.

The voices fade.

Dean does not return.

* * *

Castiel waits.

Dean shoves his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“What?”

“You’d always taken care of yourself just fine,” Dean says, the barest undercurrent of heat in his words. “You never needed me.”

Castiel’s mouth opens and closes before he says, “We were friends. Did that mean nothing to you?”

“Of course not!” Dean hisses. “But we were both drunk and horny and, you told me yourself, you’d never done anything like that before - so forgive me for thinking you wouldn’t want anything to do with me when you’d gotten what you wanted!”

“That’s…” Castiel drifts off, at a loss for words at the sheer magnitude of Dean’s fallible logic. He runs a hand down his face. “I can’t believe it.”

"And when you said you wanted to talk," Dean continues, head shaking, "Well, I know how your head works. You were gonna make me go over everything that happened in that bedroom, pick it apart so you could have more facts to store in that big brain of yours." He takes a step back, eyes darting everywhere but at Castiel. “Well, this has been enough reminiscing about the glory days for one night. I’m gonna head out. Try to forget any of this ever happened. Have a nice life, Cas.”

“Dean,” Castiel grinds out, “Wait one moment.”

“Yeah, no can do,” Dean says quickly, his face one shade away from terrified, “I have an important appointment-”

“I waited for you for a full hour at Tessa’s house,” Castiel says coldly. “You could grant me at least a minute.”

Chastened, Dean shifts his weight to his other foot. He stares stonily down at the floor, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“I thought you saw me as convenient,” Castiel says once he’s ready to speak, “so that’s why you chose to make your move. It seemed impossible you’d pick me for any other reason. I had heard you chose a new person to sleep with at every party.”

“What the hell?” Dean murmurs, his green eyes wide in the dim light filtering in through the front doors. “I mean, I did do that, but, Cas, that’s freaking nuts. Obviously you were different.”

“Because I was an awkward teenager with no friends,” Castiel asks, eyebrows raised. “You were the most popular boy in school. Everybody loved you.”

“I mean - debatable,” Dean says, rolling his eyes, “But none of them knew me like you did. You knew how screwed up my life was. How screwed up I was.”

“I could say the same for you,” Castiel points out.

Dean releases a breathy laugh. “I guess so.”

Castiel stares hard at Dean’s face, waiting for some sign of rejection as he takes a step forward, right into his personal space. “I came to the reunion hoping to run into you.”

“So you could finally let me have it after all these years?” Dean asks, only half-joking.

Castiel shakes his head. “I was hoping for some closure.”

Confused, Dean’s eyes narrow. “Happy to give it to you,” he says slowly, “Like I said, I’ve got shit to make up for.”

Castiel shores up his resolve. “Now I’m hoping for a date.”

* * *

Cas waits. 

He isn’t sure for how long, but he feels the vibrations from the music downstairs change tempo several times. He doesn’t hear any more voices outside.

Feeling smaller than he has in his entire life, which is saying something, he creeps out of the room. He steals down the stairs, nearly tripping over his and Dean’s abandoned, empty cups. 

He lingers on the threshold of Tessa’s house. Maybe Dean got side-tracked by something in the party. Maybe he really intended to come back to Cas. Maybe he is waiting for Cas to find him and prove his interest.

Too many “maybes” for Cas, who prefers to deal with cold, hard facts.

Fact #1: Dean never showed romantic interest in Cas before 

Fact #2: Dean only made his advances known after several alcoholic drinks

Fact #3: Boys like Dean don’t fall for boys like Cas

Maybe Cas is just delusional. 

Dean is probably with the rest of the partygoers, relaxed and happy with one orgasm under his belt, and looking for more before the night is over.

He can picture Dean’s face if Cas were to track him down: shocked and confused, a little angry Cas is clinging on even after their time together was clearly over.

Cas lets Tessa’s door slam behind him. He should never have come here.

A little squeak to his right nearly sends him jumping out of his skin.

“Cas?”

He squints. “Charlie?”

Her red hair flashes in the darkness as she pushes her bangs back from her face. “Hey, man. I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Same,” Cas says weakly. “I - ” He breaks off at the sound of a large sniffle. “Are you alright?”

“’M fine,” Charlie says, ducking her head so her hair falls back in front of her face. “I was getting,” her breath hitches, “some fresh air.”

“It is crowded in there,” Cas says, at a total loss for what to say. But he can’t leave her alone out here, clearly upset.

The worst thing is being alone.

He tries, “I - are you sure you’re alright?”

Charlie noisily sighs through her mouth. “What’s it to you?”

“You’re crying.”

Charlie flinches. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“I - is there anything I can do to help?” Cas asks.

“Unless you can convince Gilda to take me back, not really,” Charlie says, shoulders hunching as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares out at the empty street beyond. She sniffs. “Nobody meets their True Love in high school, or at least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself.”

“It is statistically unlikely,” Cas offers tentatively, “assuming true love exists as well.”

“You don’t believe in true love?”

Cas shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

Charlie turns to him, her eyes wide with surprise. “You too?”

Cas looks away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” Charlie says, and, impossibly, her mouth tips up into the smallest of smiles. “Come on, tell me about it. Misery loves company, right?”

Cas swallows past the lump forming in his throat. “I had my first kiss tonight.”

Charlie’s face falls. She takes a step closer and wraps her arms around him. She smells like a berry-scented shampoo and cheap vodka. “That’s rough, buddy.”

Frozen in shock, Cas doesn’t move. It takes an extra hard squeeze from Charlie to get him to return the hug. Once he does, he finds it strangely comforting. 

He doesn’t know Charlie all that well, but in this strange liminal space outside the horror show of Tessa’s party, so far removed from his safe haven in the library, it is exactly what he needs.

Maybe making new friends isn’t as hard as Cas thought.

* * *

“You want... me ?” Dean asks.

“If you’ll have me,” Castiel says, nodding. 

“But…” Dean says, looking more than a little lost, “We can’t?” He phrases it like a question.

Castiel tilts his head. “Why not?”

“Because,” Dean splutters, “our history!”

“Our history consists of mutual romantic interest and a few stupid teenage mistakes,” Castiel says evenly. “Hardly insurmountable. You clearly are still attracted to me. I can say the same of you.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says - pleads, really, “With our baggage, it’ll never work out. It’s been ten years. We’ve changed.”

“I hope for the better,” Castiel says, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, you were a dick back then. But you were also my friend.”

Dean exhales an explosive sigh. “Are we really doing this?”

“If you don’t want to,” Castiel says, his stomach already clenching in anticipation, “I’m not going to force you.”

“No, no, of course I do,” Dean says quickly. “You doing anything now?”

“Other than attending my high school reunion?” Castiel asks with raised eyebrows. “No.”

“Great,” Dean says, his face breaking out into a wide smile. “I think we’ve both maxed out our free drinks a while ago, so what do you say to ditching this snoozefest early?”

“I don’t think I’ve ditched anything in my life,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean laughs and holds out his hand. “Christ, I don’t know how you survived without me.”

Castiel rolls his eyes as he gives Dean’s fingers a squeeze. “I’m starting to wonder about that myself.”

Instead of leading Castiel out of the library, Dean pulls him closer. “Wait a sec, I wanna try something.”

“What?”

But before Castiel can say another word, Dean’s mouth lands on top of his. His lips are warm and slightly dry, and wonderfully devoid of the taste of alcohol. 

Castiel buries his hands in the loose material of Dean’s shirt, keeping him anchored in place as he opens his mouth to let Dean’s tongue slip inside. Butterflies take flight in his stomach, and he would probably float away if not for Dean’s steady hand resting on his waist.

Dean breaks the kiss first. But he makes no move to step away, letting his forehead rest against Castiel’s. They stand there, sharing breaths.

Dean breaks the silence. “I’ve always wanted to do that here.”

“You have?” Castiel asks, chuckling almost giddily. He feels, more than sees, Dean’s nod. Cas presses a barely-there kiss against Dean’s lips, whispering, “I’ve always wanted you to blow me under the desks, but at least we were able to satisfy one teenage fantasy today.”

Dean chokes with laughter. Eyes crinkled with the joy of his smile, he gestures to the tables. “I’m down if you are.”

Castiel looks askance at the door. “Maybe when there aren’t as many people to walk in on us. We aren’t even supposed to be here at all.”

Dean surreptitiously adjusts himself in his jeans. He scowls. “Then why torture me like that?”

Castiel shoots him a dry look as he heads for the exit. “Because you owe me, remember?”

“This is some effed up revenge plan you have,” Dean grumbles as he follows.

Castiel holds open the door. He eyes Dean critically. “You aren’t really bothered.”

“Tell that to the boner I popped in my pants like a teenager,” Dean retorts.

“I think it’s flattering.”

“I think you’re enjoying my pain,” Dean says under his breath as they pass the empty welcoming table and cross the threshold out of Edlund High.

“You caught me,” Castiel deadpans.

Dean swings his arm up to wrap around Castiel’s shoulders. He presses a smacking kiss to Castiel’s hair. “Man, I missed you.”

Castiel turns his head to see Dean properly. He’s gorgeous like this, standing under the faint twinkling of stars overhead, a wide grin adorning his face, his expressive eyes dancing with mirth. 

“I missed you too, Dean.”

[reggie-trying-thier-best]

ive been going though a lot of death note stuff and ive seen a bunch of different ships (which i chill with like all of them idc what you ship)  but one of my favorite that i came across that i had never really though about was Matsuda x L. Now its not my otp and im fully aware that it could never happen in canon and im not here to argue about it either. 

the reason i love it some much is because ive spent like the past week thinking about the Wammy’s kids reaction. And it is wonderful.

(this is like an au where Kira gets caught and like non of the main characters die i haven't worked everything out )

I dont want to get into the logistics of how they find out, but imagine them learning that L is with someone and everyone loses their fucking mind because how. and then they learn its a guy some are a tad surprise but no one really cares and are more mad at themselves for doing some hetronormative bs. so now all this does it lower the possibilities of who it could be.

Now most of the kids of the kids try to find out and either give up or dont want to overstep boundaries except of 3 of them Matt, Mello, and Near. while Mello wanted to find out who it was on his own first they are able to have a truce to find out L’s partner’s identity, because like they really really really want to know. 

i would like to say at this point that the expectations for L’s partner at this point are through the fuck roof like the standards are sets so high L and Kira combined couldn't surpass it even with like the help from god or something.

It takes them month of intense investigation to find out anything and the finally are able to narrow down the suspect list one of those people being Matsuda. Near decided he is the most likely because he is was on the Kira case and is one of the few people to have ever actually net L in person and knew it was L in front of them.

So they focus their investigations on him.

They all think that this man must be intelligence because even if he isn't L’s partner he was on the kira case and every one who was working to catch kira must of had high intelligence right?

so near starts doing throughout research and background checks into this mans life as far as preschool. Matt carefully bugs the place and hides trackers everywhere he could think of. Mello has a different person following him every day. 

Near finds nothing unusual he has a clean record and good grades (i dont think  matsuda was an idiot like he wasn't L or Light smart but he was a detective at a young age and while idk how Japanese law enforcement works i imagine detectives have to be decently intelligent) , but besides him being mark for have excellent marks in the shooting range he found nothing that caught his attention. Near considered that these file were fake or at least tampered with just to protect him from standing out but didn't find evidence of that either. 

Mello was worried the he would notice being followed but he never seemed to notice and even if he saw the guy he would act friendly to them and once strikes up a polite conversation, witch had scared the paid stalker half to death and mello was shocked to see how one he was annoying nice, two didn't seem to see though the guys obvious lying, and three just seemed extremely naive and trusting. Mello didn't find anything that could show he was with L, but he expected this. what he did expect was how unlike the person he imagined. This guy regularly went to work and the gym and in his free time would go on jogs through the park and the shooting range, was very social and helpful to everyone he met . Mello had imagine someone much like the antisocial L not this butterfly. Something mello also noticed but would never admit to was how attractive he was like damn dude got muscles for days. Something he did note was if he ever got asked out by anyone male or female he would politely turn them down and it the person ever got pushy about it he would reveal he was in a relationship with someone else but never gave any details about them, Mello thought was a possible connection because he never saw him with anyone in a romantic fashion, but it could still him just being polite. One final thing he thought was strange was he was sometime a part time manager for the pop star model Misa... which was weird mello thought but whatever. 

Matt’s tracker didn't reveal anything mello didn't already find. the bugs didn't find anything other of the ordinary either. the guy watched TV sometimes and friends over that talked about mundane things and would often tell matsuda he was being annoying. He would sometimes call this girl Misa and they would talk about the most stupid of things. This guys was an idiot Matt though after hacking into his computer and find nothing of interest expect for some sad google searches of things that either everyone should know or at least should be common sense like seriously dude. their were a lot of sweet’s recipes though despite this guy not seeming to ever eat anything sweet. 

Once they got together and talked about their finding they were like no this man could not be him L would never be with someone so stupid, sociable, and well annoying. they were frustrated for wasting so much time and effort and no have to start back for square one. Matt removes the bugs and mello stops stalking the poor man and their investigation continues without a single break in the case.

(Now on L’s side of thing the reason they couldn't find a connection to Matsuda and L is because L is extremely careful to keep Matsuda a secret from anyone that could hurt him or try to use him to get to L. L will be gone for weeks at a time trusting  matsuda to be loyal and  matsuda was because god dammit he would of be a good bf or try to at least. and if they had investigated him a little longer they would of saw he went on a mysteriously paid for vacation to another part of japan and stay in a hotel with a Rue Ryuzaki for about 2 weeks) 

While the boys never give up on their investigation they do have other thing to focus on and while they still tried to find out who L was with the started to focus more of their energy on other things. until on day L invites them all to work on a particular difficult case. not necessarily because he couldn't solve it on his own but because it was suggested to give them a kinda “field training” with L.

And to much of their shock and dismay the only other person with them is the same fucking  matsuda that they had been investigating before.(after a while  matsuda quite the police force and worked and be with L full time) He didn't seem to add much to the the actually investigation but instead acted more like another Watari and did a lot of the physical work of the investigation , like going undercover and actually apprehending the suspect with other officers, things like that. 

At the end of the investigation they almost managed convinced themselves that this is just a coincidence and no way are they together yeah its jut a coincidence. 

that is until the end of the investigation and Matsuda give a like peck on L’s cheek. 

Near, Mello, and Matt while all doing it in different ways 

absolutely freak the fuck out.

[lobstergirls]

detrans diary month 2

(there is no part one to this because mistakes were made)

it’s been roughly two months since my last shot (july 28) and my shots were on a weekly basis until that point. here’s some of the changes i’ve experienced. grain of salt here: i’ve also been losing weight steadily since june and am down from 190ish to 150. i have also been getting like zero sleep lately because of school :/

skin: my skin has gotten crazy good. i don’t have memory enough to know whether it was this good pre t but i feel like the answer is no. that’s crazy when you also consider that ive been eating total garbage and barely sleeping for the past month

head hair: not sure on this. it’s getting longer naturally, but i don’t really know if anything is changing. i think it’s a bit less oily and might actually be getting lighter in color? it’s also pretty soft. i don’t think my receding hairline is improving at all but time will tell

body hair: i think my body hair is starting to slow down a little but not by much at all. all of the hair on my stomach and chest is solid black and has multiple hairs per folicle

facial hair: no actual change as far as i know, maybe a little slower? i have been shaving and plucking regularly

nails: this is a hard one to judge because i used to bite them but my nails are growing like crazy. i also think the not-biting my nails thing can be attributed to a reduction in anxiety

energy/brain: i am super lethargic all the time but can’t separate all of that from my bad sleep schedule. i feel like my ritalin is less effective than normal (despite going down a weight class) and might need to switch up doses

voice: definitely lighter. it’s more comfortable to talk towards the top of my range at this point. i don’t think anyone in real life has noticed this

emotional: weirdly chill? i tried to detrans a few years ago (oops) and immediately was having crazy intense mood swings and crying all the time. (admittedly this was probably ptsd related.) so far i have felt basically zero change on this level. i am maybe 5% more capable of crying on a bad day

sexual: what can i say..i don’t fuck. i don’t even think about sex at this point and it’s not odd to go like two weeks without masturbating (at which point it’s routine more than anything). even pre-t as a teen this would be absurd for me. physically i don’t know if anything is different, maybe a little less rowdy

sexuality: happy late international lesbian day

breasts: i’ve lost weight in my chest along with everything else but have been feeling really itchy lately. i wouldn’t rule out the possibility that i am experiencing some regrowth. i am considering doing some weight cycling for this reason but idk

body: i have definitely lost a ton of muscle (not intentionally gained) but some of that comes with the rapid weight loss. i have an hourglass figure that never really went away on T and is getting more exaggerated as time goes on. here’s me in a fitted dress with no breastforms or anything a month ago:

menstrual: i had a very light period last week (during a camping trip no less) but it was fine. my periods have always been super weird and irregular (PCOS) so i am assuming it’s going to get crazy in a few months

public perception: i get “ladies”ed regardless of how i look because i only hang out with women really, but i’ve had a few strangers avoid pronouns on me lately. a lot of my changes are currently masked by the weight loss but i’ve gotten many comments about how i look like a completely different person and they don’t know why

self perception and gender identity: overall i think i look really pretty tbh. i know logically that i was blessed with some pretty crazy bone structure and have been told often (i am stealth) that i would make a beautiful girl (lol). the word “woman” still feels too heavy to me and i’m not forcing myself to be totally cool with it, but i am still feeling a huge sense of relief to just be chilling about things. i legitimately am not really experiencing dysphoria at this point (except some “reverse” dysphoria) but i am trying to move slowly to not freak myself out. i am still boy mode at school and work (though i am wearing all women’s clothing, just the butchier stuff) and am working up to telling people outside my family and best friend who know. time will tell how that goes

let me know if there’s anything y’all are interested in about this

[carry-on-my-wayward-imagines]

Hope

Anonymous said: So I saw this quote today and I was wondering if you could do a Dean/reader oneshot based off it? “You don’t know you’ve fallen for someone until after it happens.”

Anonymous said: Hi! First off, I’m addicted to your writing, it’s so good! I was wondering if you could do one where the reader confesses her love to Dean and he doesn’t feel the same way, but after a few weeks/months he starts to fall for her? Whether or not the reader takes him at the end is up to you :) Thank you so much! <3

@-sidetracked- said: Can we make this like, a dean story please where like dean is in love with the reader and he isn’t supposed to be so he tried to forget like all the memories and stuff but she still comes around for Sam and cas and Charlie so he can’t and it’s really hard for him

A/N: It’s been so long...so long, but finally it’s here. Hope y’all like it. 

Word count: 2,352

Pairing: Dean x reader.

Warnings: a bit of drinking.

“Let Go” series: Part I, II, III, IV, V

Theme song: Someone New - Hozier

“Let Go” Series Spotify Playlist

Your name: submit What is this?

--------

You paced nervously, looking down at your outfit. It was a simple black dress with long sleeves, a washed-out denim jacket, and a pair of comfortable tennis shoes. After all, you weren’t doing anything fancy, just a walk around the park and dinner at a nearby place after that. And even though you knew the sports bar wouldn’t be high class, you couldn’t help but feel underdressed. Or maybe overdressed? It was too complicated.

It had taken you so long to get this date, you couldn’t ruin it. You smiled to yourself reassuringly, grabbing your small bag and glancing at your outfit once again before walking out of your room.

Dean could always tell who was walking into the room by their footsteps. Sam was quiet despite his size, Cas awkward at times, but you were confident. He heard you before he saw you, noting the spring in your step as you walked into the Bunker’s library. He glanced up from his book, breath instantly taken away. You looked gorgeous.

“What do you think?” you asked, glancing at him and then at Sam, who also looked up at you. “It’s my first time dressing up in a while.”

“You look great, as always,” Dean smiled, grabbing the keys that had been tossed on the table and standing up. “Ready go?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, fighting your heart as it jumped happily with Dean’s compliment.

“Have fun,” Sam called out as you walked away with his brother. He was happy for you.

You watched your shadow along the walls and floors of the Bunker silently, comfortably walking with a humming Dean toward the Impala. He opened up the door for you, as always, before settling in on the driver’s seat and bringing his baby to life.

“Thanks for driving me tonight,” you mentioned as you buckled your seatbelt. “Soo-jin and I were aching to get a spa day. She doesn’t know what I do, but it wasn’t hard for her to see that I could use it.”

“No problem, Y/N. I promise I’ll fix up your car soon enough, too.”

You suddenly remembered the last time Dean fixed your car, wearing jeans and black t-shirt that hugged his arms in all the right places, and the grease stains that somehow got everywhere. It was a good memory, but not something you needed at the moment.

You watched the bright sky illuminating the empty fields and occasional houses on the countryside, feeling the Impala rumble under you. Spring was slowly turning into summer, and the once-green grass of Kansas began to slumber off, giving up to a yellow color under the intense heat all around you. You thanked Mother Nature for her grace today, keep it a cool 80 degrees. Maybe it wasn’t a true coolness, but it would be as good as it got at 5 P.M. for a long time.

More houses began to appear after a while, and you trusted Dean’s current mixtape to keep your nerves down. But the scent of his cologne and shampoo didn’t do any good. You stole glances at him every now and then, but he remained focused on the road. Of course, he noticed your head turning, but kept it to himself for later. Despite your nonchalant acting around him, he had hope.

Those thoughts soon evaporated as he listened to you give him directions around town, streets winding up confusingly as you arrived to a nearby town. You saw the name of the sports bar pop up on your map, close by the salon. You got there rather quickly, considering the traffic on the streets, and with nerves pooling in your stomach as Dean parked in front of the salon. The guilt began sinking into you.

It shouldn’t have mattered, of course, that you were going on a date. It had been months since Dean’s accident, and although you were not a bit over him, you still knew that he would be awkward about the subject of you dating. As any brother would, you thought. He’d always been weird when you mentioned any guys, it was something that he and Sam didn’t want details of, and quite honestly, you never really had many details to share. How could anyone give you better memories than Dean, even if he was nothing more than a friend?

But Neal seemed nice, at least you got that from the phone call and texts you’d shared. You still couldn’t remember the night at the bar at all, just seeing him and giggling together with Soo-jin, but everything else was faded, like looking through the end of a glass bottle. Drinks and laughter mixed together, small touches and the smell of alcohol close to your nostrils. And Dean. There was always Dean, even if you ended up not hanging out with him that much.

It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Because Dean had been your best friend before, and now, as he looked at you with a smile, you could feel your heart tear a bit. You couldn’t lie to him, he’d be able to tell. All of those midnight conversations, your rides shared on the Impala, and pies cooked at the break of dawn had brought you closer to him than anyone else, even if your interactions were limited now. He could read you better than anyone.

“Thanks for the ride,” you forced yourself to say, looking down as you fixed your outfit, hoping he wouldn’t notice your stress. You had to convince him that you were simply going into the salon. “I’m having dinner with Soo-jin so I’ll just take a cab after, that sound okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he said. Your heart fluttered. “Call me if you need me to pick you up, though. I’m here for anything.”

You found yourself wishing that was true in different ways. With a last smile and a quick goodbye, you got out of the car, waving at him and reassuring him you carried something silver and some holy water.

A deep breath later, you found yourself walking past the salon, locating the park just a street away. It was small, but nice. There was a fountain at the center, happy streams of water jumping and dancing around in it. The trees swayed with a cool breeze, but even then you began to question your outfit under the sun. You sat on the concrete of the fountain, looking at your phone and re-reading the text messages to make sure you were in the right place.

“Y/N,” you suddenly heard your name being called out.

He was just as your tipsy memory remembered; tanned flawless skin, charming smile, and toned arms. He was dressed more casually now, but even the khaki shorts and Columbia University shirt looked impressive. He held a black leash in his hand, which travelled all the way down to a cheerful labrador.

“Neal,” you smiled, standing up. His dog, Creek, circled around you, tail playfully wagging as you rubbed the top of his head. “I didn’t imagine your puppy would be so freaking adorable.”

“He’s definitely not a puppy,” Neal laughed.

“All dogs are puppies,” you challenged, teasingly glaring at him. Dean might’ve said the same thing. Kneeling down, you let Creek give you a couple kisses while you kept on petting him. “Aren’t you, cutie pie? Little pumpkin of adorableness?”

“I knew he’d be a good wingman,” Neal joked, offering his hand to help you up. “Trust me, he gets spoiled at home. If we don’t walk him then he’ll be troublesome later.”

You reluctantly stood up, accepting his hand. It was less calloused than your own, but firm. However, it also felt nothing like Dean’s, and his touch didn’t make you feel the same sparks as Dean’s. Trying to push that to the back of your head, you followed his pace with Creek, making small conversation as you went.

He was a lawyer, but went around the state taking cases, so he wasn’t home much. Creek was two years old, and as his name hinted, he had been found in a creek in one of the cities Neal travelled to once. His favorite toys were the squeaky kind, and he was trained to do many things, including playing dead. You found yourself asking a lot of questions about Creek.

“I had a dog growing up,” you explained as an apology, “but after that I just...sort of wound up moving a lot and never had the chance the get another pupper.”

“I get it. It was hard at first to get him used to moving around with me, but now he does a lot better,” Neal said, scratching Creek’s back as he walked. “So, Y/N, what do you do that makes you travel, too?”

“Umm,” you muttered, panicking. You hadn’t thought about this, of course he would ask. “I work in nursing, just traveling when I feel like I’m needed. It’s not more than a couple weeks at a time though.”

You weren’t completely lying, you tried to reason. You did act as a nurse for Sam and Dean; you just didn’t have to mention that it was after hunting down ghost or vampires or whatever else you found. But Neal bought it, nodding and mentioning he had thought about that while he was in school.

After a couple laps around the park, you hinted at dinner, knowing your dress wouldn’t be dry for much longer under the unavoidable rays of the sun. Thankfully the bar provided some water for Creek, and you got a seat by the window so you could keep an eye on him as you ate. The wings and lemonade kept you happy, intently listening to Neal as he spoke about his most recent case. And soon enough, the lemonade turned into a fruity drink or two, maybe a couple shots when you challenged him to it.

It was still before 8 when you left the bar, needing to take Creek home, and you heading in the same direction. You carried a water bottle with you as you walked outside with Neal. He lived a couple streets away, and you offered to walk along with him as you sobered up.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Neal asked for the third time as you approached his house. It was a one-story, with a spacious front yard (and you guessed back yard, too).

“You’re a lawyer, smart guy,” you laughed, following him to the front porch. “Even if we’re only a little tipsy, I live 40 minutes away and I’d rather not risk it.”

He threw his hands up, taking a set of keys out of his pocket and opening the door. Creek immediately rushed in, pacing around and then settling on his bed. You smiled at Neal as he walked in after you, closing the door behind him. He poured you another glass of water while you borrowed his phone and got an Uber, his smile never losing its charm.

When you stepped outside again, a driver waiting for you in the front, you couldn’t help but pet Creek one more time before hesitantly saying goodnight to Neal.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your wrist before you left. Still no sparks. “I really enjoyed tonight.”

“I did, too,” you replied. At least that wasn’t a lie.

“I’m gonna be out of town for a while next Monday, but we could do lunch or something before I leave,” he suggested. You nodded along, and before you could really take in what was happening, Neal was leaning down.

I’m sorry, Dean, was the last thought on your mind as your closed your eyes and stood on your toes to meet him.

----

“Well, at least now I know that you’re alive,” Dean’s angry voice reached your ears.

You locked the Bunker’s door behind you, ignoring the look you knew he was giving you from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to charge my phone beforehand,” you replied, sighing.

You got a good look at Dean when you came down. He had his arms crossed, a look of concern and annoyance etched into the crinkles of his face. Your heart still warmed at the brightness of his green eyes, but shame and guilt mixed in with the warmth.

“You couldn’t have borrowed someone else’s phone?”

“I didn’t think about it,” you muttered. You really hadn’t, at least not to call. “Dean, can you just stop this interrogation? I wanna go change and shower.”

Dean tried to hold back, but he couldn’t. For some reason, he had been nervous as he dropped you off. He could tell that you weren’t being completely truthful with him. He was aching to tell you how he felt about you, but knowing that you were keeping something from him made him mad. Especially when he had called and texted to make sure you were okay, but you never replied.

“Oh yeah, get that smell of alcohol off of you,” he said.

“What’s with you?” you narrowed your eyes. Your heart began to drum faster as you confronted Dean. “I’m not a teenager, you can’t tell me that I can’t drink alcohol on a night out.”

“I was worried about you, Y/N. I even doubt you were with Soo-jin,” he confessed. You tried to keep yourself calm, to not let him see more of your lies.

“Well you shouldn’t be,” you shrugged. “And you’re not my dad or my boyfriend, so why do you care?”

You knew why he cared, it was a stupid question to ask, but you didn’t him a chance to saying anything else as you marched past him. You knew he heard the shake in your voice as you said “boyfriend.” Of course, even a date and a kiss later, you were not one bit over him. Not one bit.

And as Dean watched you walk away, he realized the same thing. You were still not over him, as much as you pretended. He still had a chance.

Of course, he knew nothing of the texts you sent later that night.

tagged: 

@blingernoah, @homework-is-the-real-killer, @revyjerry, @grace-for-sale, @tombraidertussi, @castiels-imprinted-angel, @justacinnamonroll, @justastarryeyedgirl, @popeyesqueen, @thecrazyenthusiast, @stephyvqz, @whoxian, @womanizerbucky, @i-wish-i-could-be-peter-pan, @gsbmpsxlkwy, @collinssie, @gabavaldman, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @itsjaybro16, @dxrylswalker, @swiggitysammy, @tardis-is-mine, @slightlyspicyyy, @nocsa, @sarahstinson, @bookwormpunk, @kathrynxox333, @lauriij666, @marinasmth, @britasaurhxc, @cookie-dough-lova, @miller1967winchester, @literal-stardust, @jerkbitchidjitassbutt, @supernatural-crazed890, @olivia3aivilo-blog, @deangirl7695, @sirenrayne, @sakura-storm-blog, @shut-your-face-and-get-in-the-car, @naturalbornsnickerdoodle @akshi8278 @justanotherdogperson

[daphnenott]

flying, falling

complete and utter wish fulfillment tbh but the prompt was: dramione + philip carlyle x anne wheeler mashup

pairing: draco malfoy x hermione granger 

word count: 1923

setting: greatest showman au

i.

The first time he sees her, it is among the swirling lights of the circus, the multicolored fabrics swishing below, the cheers and raucous cries of the crowd muted beneath the rush of blood in his ears.

The first time he sees her, he knows he is in trouble.

ii.

The first time she sees him, she hates him on principle. The press of his suit, the crisply folded corners of his collar, the shiny black shoes that he frowns at when someone accidentally kicks up dirt, as if any smidgen of dust upon his person will magically denigrate him one of the working class. He’s the kind of person that Hermione would never talk to, and she knows that she is the kind of person that he would never talk to either. And that’s perfectly fine with her.

She hates the way he looks at them- the circus freaks. Or rather, the way he decidedly doesn’t. He looks through them, past them, as if they aren’t there, as if they aren’t people themselves. So she does the same to him- walks straight past him, ignores any attempt he makes at speaking to her. It’s rude, she knows, but he’s rude as well, and Hermione is a big believer in justice and the just world fallacy. So she ignores him, and moves on, and pretends to be utterly unaware of the way his startling grey eyes track every movement she makes.

It makes her skin crawl, truth be told.

iii.

His name is Draco Malfoy, and he is a well-respected playwright, the son of aristocrats and old money. He doesn’t typically associate with people below him, the poor. The entirety of the working class. He isn’t entirely sure what madness took over and compelled him to agree with the circus owner’s request for partnership, but he supposes it has something to do with the way he feels that rush of attraction for the curly-haired girl- Hermione, the owner had quickly introduced as they’d walked by- as he watches her swing from the trapeze, soaring high, high above him.  

It’s embarrassing, how much Draco likes this girl, and for no good reason at all. Sure, she’s a talent, a vision in the air, sure, she makes his breath hitch in his throat and his hands get awkwardly, uncomfortably sweaty, his heart threaten to jump out of his chest, but in the end, she is nothing more than a poor girl with an aptitude for acrobatics. But still, the fact remains. He wants her, he wants her, he wants her.

He wants her up to the point she comes up to him and slaps him in the face.

iv.

Hermione hadn’t seen much of Draco- Malfoy, she’d taken to calling him, out of a large sense of rebellion and an unwillingness to form attachment- lately. Not since she had slapped him, at least. She figured that he had left to go nurse his pride- a typical move for those with fragile masculinities, she thought- somewhere far, far away from the circus. She hoped, at least.

She had thrown herself vigorously into her training the last few days ever since he had left, taking advantage of the absence of a certain blond-haired prat. Much as she was loath to admit it, his gaze had driven her to distraction, and she hadn’t been able to focus on her new routine as much as she would have liked to.

Slowly, Hermione taped up her hands, walking to the side of the rink and scrubbing some chalk on her palms for a better grip. Unraveling the coarse rope wound tightly along the hook on the column, she walks with it to the center of the rink, backing up and taking a running start before she feels the weight attached to the other end of the rope pull her up into the air. For a moment, she is breathless, soaring, flying. This was the part she enjoyed the most, the time when she felt most in control, her mind quiet for once.

Most people were afraid of the height. Hermione wasn’t. It wasn’t that she was reckless, or fearless, but simply that she had enough faith in herself, enough confidence in her amount of practice to know that her own life was in her hands, she was in control, and that logically, the risk of her falling during an actual performance was slim. As long as she was in control, she would be fine.

Hermione was always in control. Until Malfoy walked into the building, and all rational thought fled her mind.

v.

She was falling. That was all Draco knew, all he saw, and despite his wounded pride, he rushed forward, kicking up dirt and sand behind him as he reached out his arms to catch the girl that infuriated and frustrated him beyond measure. She crashed into him hard, and Draco virtually crumpled under the sudden weight of her body.

It was a moment before they both groaned, Draco trying, and failing miserably, to brush some of the dirt off his once impeccable clothes. He tried to ignore the way she was sitting on top of his legs, her every breath pushing against the growing knot in his stomach. Slowly, delicately, he reaches up to her face, pushing the disarrayed curls behind her ear. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t know why she’s suddenly letting him touch her when last week she had so vehemently come up to him and slapped him square across the face. He doesn’t know anything when it comes to Hermione Granger.

“I,” she starts, then clears her throat. “Thank you,” she says quietly, before standing up and walking away, shoulders proud and head held high.

He memorizes the rosy shade of her cheeks, the intensity of her dark eyes.

vi.

She tries not to think about the way he had looked- looks, she corrected herself- at her. She tries not to think about him in general, but it was hard when he seemed to be everywhere she turned, either helping out with the circus or mingling with the performers. He seemed to have gotten past his original prejudice in the weeks that he had been here, but Hermione still doesn’t trust him.

She can’t afford to.

Some part of her wonders about him though, and Hermione has always been a curious girl. She can’t deny the attraction that had seemed to have awoken the night he had saved her, but still, she avoids his glances, and secretly puzzles at night at why he’s changed.

vii.

The next time they interact is at the theatre; it’s one of Draco’s shows, and he had generously invited the circus performers to attend, buying out an entire section of seats for them. Everything was going marvelously well, the play was running smoothly, fate had somehow maneuvered Hermione into the seat next to him, and yet he could focus on none of these things besides the fact that Hermione’s hand was perilously close to his and he had been debating for the last half hour whether or not to intertwine her much smaller hand with his.

The first brush of fingers was an accident- he had shifted slightly and as a consequence, his arm had moved over and touched hers; he froze. The second time was purposeful. When Hermione hadn’t made any sign nor sound of protest, he dared to hold her hand completely, very much relieved when she relaxed hers against his, the palm of hers skimming lightly against the palm of his.

During intermission, Draco happened to glance up into the box seats, meeting the glare of both his parents. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were the definition of Manhattan elite: they were the well-known politicians, descended from French lineage and aristocracy. As he watched, Lucius turned to speak to Narcissa. To an outsider, it might have seemed as if Lucius were simply whispering sweet nothings in his wife’s ear, but Draco knew better. Even from a distance, he could see the tension to his parents’ posture, the way Lucius’s grip on his cane was a little too tight.

Draco dropped Hermione’s hand, his fingers feeling oddly bereft of her warmth. She turned to him, curious, but he refused to look at her, and it didn’t take her long before she worked out why he had so openly rejected her. Shaking her head, she brushed past him, refusing to speak a word.

He had always been a coward, and he had never hated himself more for it.

viii.

She saw him in the turmoil of the fire. It wasn’t as if she had been actively looking for him- no, it was merely that his distinctively bright hair was hard to miss, even through the smoke and ash raining from the rafters of the building. She had seen him corralling performers and pushing them to the exits, pressing his suit jacket to his mouth and face, trying to avoid the soot and contaminated air.

She had been trying to do the same, pushing others in front of her, checking around her to make sure that other people had gotten out before her, but just as she made for the exit where she had seen the back of Draco’s head disappear, a beam fell in front of her, blocking the way.

Thinking quickly, she pivoted on her heel, knowing there was another exit to the side of the building, praying desperately that it wasn’t blocked off as well. With luck, it was clear, and she made it safely through and away from the building, running when she saw the rest of the performers gathered near the front. Relief rose in her chest, quickly tempered when she noticed that they seemed to be huddled around someone. Screams and cries reached her ears, calls for help lost among the sirens and vicious crackling of the fire.

She searched for Draco’s head, but couldn’t find him. There was a figure on the ground.

Dread rushed through her veins.

It was Draco.

“What happened?” she managed to choke out, unable to tear her eyes away from his figure- too still, she thought- spread on the floor. She had watched him leave the building, had known that she was the last one before she left.

The girl next to her looked at her briefly, a strange mixture of resentment and pity in her eyes. “He went back in for you.”

ix.

“You bastard,” she said, and she meant it. “You imbecile. You stupid, reckless, git.”

He didn’t move; didn’t stir, give her that grin she knew meant spelled trouble for her heart.

He didn’t do anything at all.

And unwillingly, she broke down crying.

x.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was her. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days- her hair was an absolute atrocity, her eyes puffy and tired, her delicate features wan with exhaustion.

And yet, Draco thought she was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Without thinking, he pushes himself off the small hospital bed, and kisses her, and it’s like he’s seeing her for the first time again, feeling that rush of adrenaline beneath his skin and his heart pound violently against his ribcage. One of his hands winds up in her hair, and the other settles on her waist, and hers come up to rest on his shoulders, and the kiss is soft, and sweet, and perfect.

xi.

The first time he sees her, he is in love.

[angeljonghyun]

So i guess here goes my longer ramble about my feelings and thoughts. No need to read it. Feel free to ignore it. The only way for me to feel relief is to post it online in some way and although i know tumblr is such a toxic site its the only space that feels right for it. its probably full of typos and doesnt make any sense, but hey who cares.

So yeah

Lately a lot of things happened, things which im thankful for and things that help me heal, but theyre not big of a help since my emotions are so strong. As some might know im currently in a clinic for relaxation 5 days a week from 10 am-2:30 pm and its pretty tough. Being around people again, experiencing painful moments during acupuncture (they find good spots that make me cry, not even really bc theyre hurting but they just make me feel all my inner pain all at once), feeling uncomfortable around certain people there and not loving all therapists bc theyre way too harsh with their words.

The past weeks have been intense and exhausting.. and since its all about relaxing i had much time to think. I had lots of time to think about jjong. Sadly it never felt like i have space, strength and time to heal properly.

I feel lots of pain,my heart feels so heavy, im bitter and im weak? Im forcing my emotions to stay calm, i hate crying in the clinic, i cant open up properly and just dont want to cry there all the time although i know i should but i just cant.

Jjong is on my mind 24/7 like literally 24/7 hes always there, always was and idk how much longer he will be but i want him to leave. My memories and the emptiness which i feel is too much, its draining me its hurting so freaking much that i cant even put it in words and the bad thing is that no one really understands.

People may know that im sad in a way but i dont think anyone understands my pain completely, obviously not, no one ever knows how one truly feels, but its a devastating feeling. Its a feeling that makes me feel quite lost and lonely, because the only person i always believed would understand my pain was him. He was my safe haven, he was the one who would be there and never judge and just understand.

Its a really sick part of my mind which has still control over this part of my emotions, i cant trust anyone, i always.. ALWAYS feel judged and i always feel like a burden and i never want to talk about my struggles because it only causes so much more chaos or eventually i never feel like the person tries and feel all lonely and unimportant again.

Jjong he was just there.. you know ?

Just his existence caused some kind of comfort for my soul, a place to rest and feel nothing but good things for a bit although even he was hurting me too, but i accepted it bc he was far away and it was ok. He was so far away always and that gave me the chance to create the 'perfect' comfort zone. I didnt know him, he was never here.. i will just pick out parts i need and use them to stay alive.

Its not something good, but i feel like everyone does this stuff with their bias. Some more than others. I did it too much and that shows how weak and hurt my soul is. Instead of working on my problems properly i just fled into the comfort of jjongs existence, one that was so very similar to my mothers, my mother who i have lost in november 2014. winter... buried in december. Winter. The season where I lost the most important person in my life not only once, but twice now.

Jjong was like a mother to me. I cant describe my feelings for him in another way. He protected me from so much evil within myself while i wanted to protect him too at all costs and it feels HORRIBLE to have failed yet another time. It hurts so fucking much that i lost him too. He who was the biggest reason for me not to kill myself after my mom died. He who was the reason why i started eating again after developing an eating disorder. He who caused so much good in my life. He who in some way managed to manipulate me in the best possible way.

In the end it was all me, i know that, but its still the bond i had to jjong. A sick and sad one and the worst part is that i felt ready to let go slowly at the end of last year. I started realizing that i coudlnt be thinking about him all the time anymore. I want to start going to school again after 4 years of nothing but therapy. I would HAVE to let go and create a more healthy relationship. I was so ready. And then he took his own life..

He stole the opportunity from me to change. He left me here. He left me and all my problems still attached to him behind. Hes not here anymore and although i never saw him or heard or felt him in real life it makes such a huge difference to me and at the same time it doesnt. That is one of the most confusing and depressing feelings ive ever felt.

I wanted to see him in 2018.. i had many chances to see him but never one to go with me. I finally had someone to go with... and now im here.. with that opportunity gone. My biggest wish my biggest dream, the ONE thing that kept me alive for so long. Gone... all ive ever wanted was to see him live. And now.. yeah.

Those are all selfish reasons. I know that. If you even read this then no its not all i feel, but of course my feelings towards him are most important to me, its the only feelings i can work on and the only ones i truly feel. My healthy grief is there too. A distanced version of what i personally feel and no other could. But thats not truly what this post is about. Please dont judge.

So now im here and i dont know what to do.

Death has been the worst and most intense trigger in my life forever. I started being so afraid of death as a child that i could not sleep anymore bc i thought i would die. It was a horrible time, therapy followed, fear left for a few years and came back as strong as ever. Its here too now. My fear. Another reason why i am alive now, yet its not strong enough to truly shut my self destructive thoughts up. Ive noticed that around the time of jjongs burial. I was ... so ready to leave. I still feel sympathy and empathy for myself there. Bc my pain is so big. Its truly so immense but no one truly knows or cares much. Maybe my therapist, but i doubt it.

Well im now always thinking about death and jjong being dead and ive said before that these thoughts are really killing me inside. Idk where he is, how he is, how he feels, does he feel? Whats up with him... what happens??? Its so scary. I find zero comfort in the thought of him resting bc where is he? Is he resting? Does he know? Where is the man i love so freaking much? Where is my mom? Is she with him? Are they lonely?

Ive always said

When its about death, i envy religious people. They have something to hold onto. I have nothing but the unknown in my head. Another one of my biggest fears and my loved ones are stuck in there. In the unknown. And im not there and i couldnt say goodbye to either of them.

Im so bitter i envy everyone whose bias is still there and im always thinking why him. Why HIM why another person of My life why someone i love so much why when i was feeling so much better thanks to him why did he have to suffer. Will i lose everyone?

Im afraid to sleep still bc im scared to wake up to news of another loved one gone. The fears and memories, theyre everywhere. I cant escape and i hate it and dont know how to process.

The most important form of jjong to me was and still is the fictional one, although jjong as a distant human being will always be more fictional to me than real. The fictional version which i have created for my own reasons, its still there just like always, its still cheering me up, its sweet its cute and lovely, but still hard to work with bc i always end up thinking about the real jjong.

Now after seeing the pictures of his grave i rather see that image than him as a person. I welcome that. Im glad i saw the pics bc its all more real to me now, im glad i saw the burial video.. although i never wanted it to be filmed or real in the first place. I dont think i would be still as sane as i am atm if i didn’t see this stuff.

I know that im doing quite good.. i should be proud of myself i guess.. but my pain is overshadowing everything else to the point where im completely at loss of every emotion just thinking about jjong not being here anymore.

Knowledge about his passing, own experiences and the whole process, everything. It haunts me.

Its quite a long way to go i think. I always felt so close to him, we were so similar and although he had many flaws i didnt quite like, especially as i was getting more healthy and he was still stuck, i still loved him so much and accepted that. He was getting so much better from and outside point of view and maybe that was the reason why he finally found strength to leave and its such a sad thing to think about, but i cant really change a thing anymore.

Sadly. Yeah ..

At the end of this i just want to say. Please just care, be there and if a depressed person in your life gets better please pay special attention bc it might be their chance to end it all. I dont want people to die bc of that dumb fucking illness anymore and i know its not possible to prevent it completely but well..

Im tired and theres still so much more to say for me but i cant say much more now. My head hurts and i need to get up and do something in order to forget about all of this for a while.

Please stay strong, please dont give up. I promise you one day it will get better, never fully ok, but better.

Im trying my best to find joy in jjong and shinee again, i doubt that i will, but im trying. I wont leave the fandom now, but im not the same anymore. Listening to shinees or jjongs music is impossible, watching videos too. If you feel the same its fine. Just do whats right for you. Im just here feeling happy for the others and hoping that theyre feeling better slooowly each day a little. Just like i hope it to be for everyone else.

If you came till here. Thanks for caring. Please take care of yourself, you are very loved. Life is hard, but not impossible.

Stay strong.

[remyjax]

A birth story

Remy Jax ; 

August 6th I had a bi-weekly check up with my OB. 38 weeks. As I sat on the table we chatted. I expressed how my ankles were swelling like balloons and I was taking Tums now daily for the heart-burn. She stated these were both normal signs of nearing the end of pregnancy. She had asked me if I have been experiencing any contractions yet. Besides Braxton Hicks, I had told her I didn’t know what they felt like yet. Nothing uncomfortable or that took my breath away yet. Lastly she asked if I wanted to be checked to see if I was dilated yet. ‘Uh, of course!’ I thought. She checked me and said I was only 1 cm along. I don’t know what I was expecting but I felt disappointed for some reason. I asked her questions about my water breaking, what were the chances. My mom had to have her water broke for her so I wasn't sure what to expect if it had suddenly broke in the middle of the grocery store, you know, like in the movies. She said that if it happens to head to the hospital within 24 hours and they would call her for me. I asked all the questions I needed to and I felt ready to get this baby out. Now it was just a waiting game. My OB gave me a tight hug and said she would see me again next week.

Ugh, fine. I headed to my moms house and went for a walk around the park with my littlest sis. The past week I started walking daily around the park and I also got a yoga ball for home. Sitting on the couch in the middle of summer, 38 weeks pregnant was so uncomfortable. I sat on the ball instead of the couch, rolling my hips and lightly bouncing to make him “drop” so to say. After I came home from my walk, I bounced around and watched some tv, took a picture of my belly in the bathroom, then headed to bed. ;)

I remember waking up around 3:30 am trying to get comfortable in bed, tossing and turning. I got out of bed and checked the couch to see if Ryan was home from work yet. Sure enough he was passed out with the TV still on. I turned everything off and left him to sleep. Sleeping in the bed with me large and in charge, he’d probably be better off in the living room. I went back to bed and googled a contraction calculator app just in case this heartburn feeling wasnt just heartburn. I started timing the tightening of my belly. Start then End. Start, End. I eventually fell asleep.

4:45 am I wake up and roll over. I felt like I had leaked something when moving, so I went to the bathroom to make sure I wasn't still bleeding from earlier at the cervical check. It was clear. Hmmm I thought. I went to the bed to see if a puddle of water was there and there was nothing. I was confused and trying to think. Then water dripped out again as I was standing there.

‘What the… Ok.’ I went and sat on the toilet. ‘Is this my water breaking? I don’t know. Am I having contractions? No, I don’t think so. I don’t know actually. Did I?’ I walked into the living room to wake Ryan up. “Ryan. Ryan. Ryan! I think my water is breaking..” “Are you sure?!” “NO! I am not sure, but I am leaking something when I walk” I am now sitting on the toilet googling this. Besides my water breaking, it says it could also be fluid. And leaking fluid is not good. I called my mom in a nonchalant panic. Ryan was already on the phone with HIS mom. He’s talking over me as I am trying to talk to mine, while staying calm while on the toilet still. We decided heading to the hospital now would ease our panic and I wasn’t sure I was in labor. I seriously thought that I was leaking fluid.

I changed into some sweats (mid August in CA, 38 weeks pregnant, you don't sleep in much clothes) I threw my hair in a pony tail and looked at Ryan. We went to my car and drove in a silent panic to the hospital. When we arrived we had a chipper nurse who checked me in to see if it was my fluid leaking or in fact my water broke. Waiting for the results she asked if we had a name picked out for our baby. I looked at Ryan and he looked at me.... NO! We have no name!!! We argued for 8 months straight on baby names. As she came back with a wheelchair she cheerfully said my water broke and it was time!

“It’s time!” Are two words any pregnant couple would normally be so relieved to hear, but I was so in shock as I really thought I had more time. We get wheeled up to Labor and Delivery and I text my mom those words “it’s time!” Trying to be positive but secretly about to freak out.

At this point I am starting to feel contractions. It just felt like a wave of emotions and tightening over my belly that would last a few minutes then slowly be released back to normal. I was able to make it through them but knew I wanted an epidural for if I couldn’t handle it. The anesthesiologist came in and prepped me for the epidural. I remember this feeling like the worst part of it all. I had to sit up and hutch over making my back shaped like a curve. He stressed to me to be completely still and not to move so that he wouldn't miss his target. This automatically freaked me out. I was having contractions, and on top of that one of the medications you are hooked up to on the IV makes you have the shakes. My teeth were shivering it was so uncontrollable. Yet I had to stay very still. He told me if I didn’t calm down that he would have to come back later. (I might have been crying a little bit at this point as well as the shaking lol) 

Fast forward I am now resting comfortable in my hospital bed, free from the pain all hooked up to the pain meds. My nurse tells me to get some rest. What seemed like an hour later, I was having intense contractions. My nurse would tell me if I needed more to the epidural to push a button and it would drip to my IV. I pushed it and pushed it and still was feeling a lot going on. She called my anesthesiologist to double check everything, but he was in a surgery and was not able to come up. I kept feeling an intense desire to push and my nurse would tell me not to. Try not to push you aren't dilated yet, keep him in there and allow him to make his was down to you then you would push. She leaves me to work though the contractions, and I tell her again “I need to push!” She said she would check again but its not time. She pokes around down there and pop’s her head up, “Yep, its time to push” 

My OB comes strolling in the room. What a relief to see her. She’s wearing a little dress above her knees, heels, and throws her doctor jacket on. She jokes with me how she saw me that day! She’s putting her hair net over her head, they are lowering my bed, and taking the bottom half of the bed off. The lights turn off and only the overhead doctors light is on beaming at my hoo-ha. I am sweating, it is so hot. They had their air conditioning brake at this very moment, and the nurses were running me cold ice towels for my head, Ryan switching them out for a cold one each time a nurse came in. (I think it eventually came back on, or the back up generator came on, however this moment felt like a lifetime, its funny how in all the chaos this is what I remember) 

It was time to get him out. I had two nurses in the room, one holding my leg, the other assisting my OB, and Ryan in there. It was quiet and calm in there. Giving birth is just so explainable. One minute your body feels at rest, and clam. The next it feels like a big wave in in the ocean, when all the water goes back, it raises to form a tall wave, and then it crashes into the sand and gets less intense as it slowly comes back down the shore. That’s how my contractions felt. like a wave. It would be so unbearable and just when you caught on and thought to yourself WTF, I can’t do this, it would release and ease up and go away. The doctor would say take a deep breath while the nurse would so politely yet sternly count to 10 slowly. Like 1, (Mississippi) 2, (Mississippi) ..and my body in such a bad-ass way, knew to push and hold that push for the 10 seconds. Then a small break, take a breather, and then again until this baby comes out. I have learned that your body goes into labor knowing exactly what to do. Even if you don’t think it does. When other women say your body knows what to do, listen to your body, they are all right. A wave would come, I’d take a deep breath, and pusshhhh and slowly little by little the little bean makes it’s way down your canal. I do remember coming to a point where I screamed I couldn’t do it anymore. It was starting to hurt too badly. I think this was when the biggest width of his head was coming out. My doctor asked Ryan if he wanted to see the head and he said no he didn't want to see. haha. She asked Ryan to count for me. I think hearing his voice instead of the nurse, made a huge impact. Gave it a shift in energy, I felt more empowered hearing him like it was him and I doing this together. A few more pushes and out he came!

August 7, 2015 at 3:45 pm, weighing 7 lbs, 8 oz, 21 inches long- whaling loud and clear they plop him right on my chest. It happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. I kept calling out for Ryan like is he seeing this, and he was like I am right here, I’m right here. They rubbed him down and threw a beanie on him and wrapped him up. I don’t remember watching Ryan cut the umbilical cord, but he says he did. After I was all sewed up, and admiring my sweet baby boy, they asked me what his name was. I told our doctor we were deciding between Remy and Maverick and she took a long look at him. She said if it was any help she delivered two Mavericks within the last month. Not one named Remy. 

Remy was so clam, and gentle in the womb. He was sweet. And different. So we went with that. Jack was Ryan’s grandfathers name. We wanted to give it a fresh twist and spelled it Jax. And that was that. We didn’t think to much about it. I think we were high on the baby dust and after arguing 9 months over a name it was so fast and simple once we laid eyes on him. 

He had huge chubby round cheeks, and small Asian eyes. Lot’s of dark black hair and nostrils identical to Ryan. Tan skin and latched on perfectly. 

Remy has always made life being his mom so easy for me. Everyone tells me how lucky I am to have him be so easy going, but I thank him for making me the lucky one. 

[illtalktoyoureyes-blog]

PODCAST BROS. AU

I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd shit.

II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks  Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.

III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.

IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.

V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.

VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)

VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)

VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-

IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.

X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.

XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m.  silent, sexuality-specific  realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.

XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with  a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.

XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written  is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana  with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!

XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)

XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd shit. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)

XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.

[allyinthekeyofx]

Fading Light -part 2- 2/6

PART ONE  -  Chapters 1-6 here

PART TWO  -  Chapter one

PART TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Scully is sleeping. Not dead, not comatose, not even mildly sedated. And aside from the IVs that snake their way in to her pale skin and the steady beep-beep of the monitors beside her bed, I can almost, almost convince myself that she is going to be fine.

Although, in the short term at least her doctors have assured me that she will be fine. She lost a tremendous amount of blood but missed vacogenic shock by a whisker, and will suffer no immediate ill effects except for increased fatigue for a few days as her battered system regains its equilibrium. I found myself staring blankly at the young intern who had been despatched to speak to me out in the corridor where I had sat looking at my feet for what seemed like an eternity. He congratulated me on my fast response to the situation; that even ten minutes more and the outcome might have been very different. I had no idea how to respond to him, still dressed as I was in Scully’s blood which had dried and hardened against my skin. I could smell it. I think I will probably smell it for a very long time to come. Was I supposed to shake his hand?, to thank him for not letting her die?

I didn’t do either of those things. I just clutched Scully’s necklace in my hand and gazed at him numbly from my seated position; hearing his words but hardly daring to believe them.

“She’s okay?” I’d finally managed through lips that seemed to belong to someone else. Lips that only the night before had been playfully kissing a line along the inside of Scully’s arm as she half heartedly attempted to slap me away. She is incredibly ticklish on the underside of her arms. In fact she is incredibly ticklish all over and she giggles when I kiss her like that. So I kiss her like that as often as I can. If you’d told me even six months ago that Scully was a giggler I would have refused to believe it. But to my delight it turns out that my serious, scientifically minded, straight-laced sceptical partner of seven years can be reduced to a giggling, weakened mess with only minimum effort on my part.

The intern touches my shoulder gently. Under normal circumstances I would probably feel a little awkward, but right now I am grateful for the connection of another human being.

“She’s okay” he affirms although he stresses that she is weak and tired and may sleep a lot over the next couple of days.

I’ll take that. God knows I’ll take it. She can sleep till next week if it means she will come back to me. And it seems like this time at least, she will.

“Can I see her? Sit with her?”

The intern hesitates for just a beat and I ready myself to start arguing. The need to see her is like a physical ache inside of me and not for the first time I wonder how it will feel when one day, that ache will go unchecked and unresolved. I think to be honest that my world will simply cease to be; that my heart will stop beating with the pain of it all. Or at least I hope that it happens that way because a life without Scully isn’t a life worth living. I’m not sure I would even want to try.

But as it turns out, I’ve misunderstood the reasons for his reluctance to allow me in to the room.

“I think maybe first Agent Mulder, we should find you a change of clothes. Let you clean up a bit?”

I smell of Scullys blood.

I nod.

“Thank you”

XXXX

I haven’t taken my eyes off her for even a second since I finally made it in here. I settled myself in to the uncomfortable chair that stood like a sentry beside her bed, gently curled my fingers around hers and just watched her sleep. She looks incredibly pale in the diffused light that casts shadows across her face but I find myself heartened that she is sleeping so peacefully. I’m not sure how aware she was of the horror show that unfolded beside that tranquil lake, or how long she stayed conscious before the shock of the sudden and violent blood loss sent her system in to freefall. Certainly she was unconscious by the time we made it back to the car park, a dead boneless weight in my arms as the blood continued to flow and I can’t help but hope that for the most part she remained unaware.

She has moved a couple of times; sighing softly before settling back in to sleep and I don’t really expect her to awaken at all tonight. Even when nurses have crept quietly in to record her vitals, she hasn’t stirred. And while I know that sleep is what she needs right now, on a very basic level, I wish she would open her eyes just for a moment so I can affirm that she is really here. That she is simply sleeping and not somewhere else far away from me.

But for the time being I just watch her. I can never get enough of looking at Scully and if she had known just how much I had enjoyed observing her during those early years in our partnership, she would probably have been horrified.

Before she had come strutting in to my office in her ill fitting off- the- rack suit, all red hair and youthful arrogance I had always considered myself to have a type. All the previous women in my life had been tall, leggy, big breasted control freaks who had been firmly in command of the relationship. Without exception they had all been older than me, without exception they had all been brunettes and without exception they had all treated me with a certain amount of casual disdain. I think I’d have been considered a catch if it weren’t for the Spooky. As it was I was merely a passing fad. To be picked up and thrown away when the novelty began to wear off.

I had expected the pattern to carry on repeating in the same manner until I finally accepted that love, or even a lasting companionship, was not going to feature heavily in my future. I’ve wondered often why I gravitated again and again to these kinds of women, unable to explain it in any real way other than a lingering feeling of unworthiness; that my past had made me somehow lacking and that happiness was for others but never for me.

Scully changed all that. And despite all my best efforts to the contrary I allowed her to get under my skin. This fiery redhead with a temper to match who never gave me an inch, a constant source of irritation who tested the boundaries in every way possible during the early months of our partnership with her infuriating knack of finding a rational explanation for everything. I mean hell, how do you hope to argue with a woman who has enough arrogance and self-belief to re-write fucking Einstein? She tested me every single day as she steadfastly refused to blindly believe; becoming the perfect juxtaposition; the Yin to my Yang. And with it she brought something to me I’d thought I’d lost forever – a feeling of worth. That maybe, just maybe, there was something within me that was actually worth fighting for.

And even back then I loved her; I loved her with an intensity that excluded all rational thought. From almost the very beginning I loved her. I loved her for believing in me; for refusing to be played by those who had sent her to me and for never allowing them to break her spirit. And almost immediately I realised I wanted her to stay with me; that to lose her, even so early on was unthinkable.

I once told her that she made me whole; that she had saved me; desperate words that I could barely bring myself to admit to her, but I had admitted them. To prevent her from walking away I had allowed at least some of my barriers to fall away and she had rewarded me by remaining by my side. I often wonder now just how different her life would be if I’d simply let her leave; done the right thing for her even if not for me. But for now I swallow the thought and go back to watching her sleep.

Only she isn’t sleeping.

She is observing me through eyes that are heavy-lidded and dull with a combination of fatigue and the morphine drip that keeps her headache at bay. But despite this, she has never looked more beautiful to me; because she is alive and she is still with me.

“I guess I missed the Birthday cake huh?” her voice is raspy and sweet and just slightly teasing, belying as always the gravity of her situation. And as always I play along, leaning forwards to drop a kiss on her forehead which I’m relieved to find is cool beneath my lips before inclining my face to whisper in her ear.

“Yeah. It had candles and everything.”

“How many candles?”

I smile.

“Lots of candles Scully. Lots and lots of candles.”

She leans in to my face and I can smell the jasmine scent of the shampoo she favours. Her skin though smells like hospitals; a combination of starch, antiseptic and a peculiar slightly unpleasant scent that reminds me of illness.

“Mulder?” she murmurs “Have you ever thought about becoming a nurse?”

“Only in my wildest dreams Scully. Why?”

She sighs, fighting sleep as she fights everything else in her life.

“You look.....mmmmm.....the scrubs. Look good...”

Her voice is slightly slurred and I graze her temple with my lips.

“I’ll wear them for you when we get home. Now go back to sleep.”

And for once she does as I say, closing her eyes even as she reaches out to me, an unspoken request that I immediately understand. I perch awkwardly on the bed and enfold her in my arms, resting my chin lightly on the crown of her head, listening to the sound of her breathing become sweet and even as she falls once more in to sleep. I don’t move until morning.

Continued chapter three.

[fenton-bus]

PODCAST BROS. AU

I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd stuff.

II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks  Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.

III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.

IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.

V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.

VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)

VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)

VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-

IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.

X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.

XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m.  silent, sexuality-specific  realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.

XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with  a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.

XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written  is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!

XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)

XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd stuff. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)

XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.

[comicteaparty]

December 28th, 2017 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party chat that occurred on December 28th, 2017, from 5PM - 7PM PST.  The chat focused on Cosmic Fish by Cosmographia.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

Good day everyone~! This week’s Comic Tea Party is now officially beginning. Today we are discussing Cosmic Fish by cosmographia~! (http://cosmicfishes.com/) For those new to CTP, discussions about the comic are freeform, so please feel free to bring up whatever you wish. However, every 30 minutes I will be dropping in a discussion question to help those who would like a prompt. These questions are totally OPTIONAL to answer so pay them no mind if you wish~! Remember, constructive criticism is allowed, but the primary focus here is to have fun and appreciate the amazing comics that the community makes~! Each chat a top comment will be picked and featured on an ad for this chat, so let’s have a great discussion~!

With that said, let us begin with this first question~!

QUESTION 1. What is your favorite scene in the comic so far and why?

for me my favorite scene is the silent interaction between syias and bells while they are fighting ramus. i think so much of the visuals to the moment illustrate their relationship beautifully. it was a moment that really cemented them as my favorite guardians in the story

another scene that im particularly fond of is that one where bells and schnell talk and he tells her to change her strategy. there was something ominously dark about it in a way that felt....realistically practical? cause while i dont trust schnell's intentions, i cant disagree with his practicality in the matter. i mean is he really wrong since insofar, it doesnt seem bells' strategy has been particularly effective

✨Tenor✨

I haven't gotten to read this week but I've seen the art and style and it looks super good so I'm hoping to catch up after my end of the month rush

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yes you should. cosmic fish is a very well-illustrated comic. and the lore behind it is pretty intense. i think a lot of aspects capture that its its own world

cosmographia

Hello everyone!! So sorry for being a tad late

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

thats okay a lot of the regulars are late/might not come i guess? holidays have been killer i imagine

cosmographia

yeah it's been a busy time for all

but ey I am SO glad that both Syias and Schnell's scenes are really effective! It's really fun to write characters that are morally gray

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

im glad to hear. moral grayness can be a challenge to write for sure.

syias i think is more sympathetic than schnell. schnell is kind of a jerk cause enigmatic reasons. whereas syias is a jerk cause gotta do whats good for the world and then he head pat apologies bells.

i might be biased cause i have a fondness for the guardians XD

for me theyre one of the most interesting parts cause of their roles and how they interact with others

cosmographia

hahahahaha that's definitely fair! they're slowly coming into the picture and become more prominent in this chapter and so forth. (the guardian lore is insaaane and I'm so glad we're finally there hahahaha)

✨Emma the Festive🍠Potato✨

I liked the beginning of chapter 5

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yes. admittedly from a more critical level ive been liking the later chapters a smidgen more cause its tying things that happened earlier together a lot better. cause the initial chapters while well-written, always kind of felt connected mostly by protagonist. but the later chapters are really making everything seem like threads of the same world since motivations and past events and all that stuff is coming into play

what did you like about it specifically @✨Emma the Festive🍠Potato✨ ?(edited)

cosmographia

yess! I'm really glad to hear that! The first chapters are definitely meant to feel a little looser until all the pieces come into play. And Emma, I'm glad chapter 5 is really clicking with you!

✨Emma the Festive🍠Potato✨

I guess the end of chapter 4 is included in the reason why I like it It's just when we see that Ramus has become huge and stuff, I felt that was really impactful

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

ah yes, thats definitely a good reason. my heart was a little broken from that moment. cause it was like the emobidment of worst case scenario

and after seeing hte flashback

can just imagine how many people are going to be sad and crying O_O

except for schnell. schnell probs just gonna shrug say welp sucks to be ramus

cosmographia

hahahahahah

I think an important thing to keep in mind is that Schnell is...very old and even if he claims to be a guardian he still doesn't have the same concept of time as they do, so he's probably bitter and tired of that by now

there's a comic I haven't uploaded onto the main site yet (since there already was a gone fishing between chapters 5 and 6) that kind of explores Schnell how he was 250 years before the current events

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

oh man that sounds super interesting. especially cause schnell who in my opinion is the most mysterious of all the time.

his weariness definitely comes through though i think

especially through his expressions

where they just always struck me as someone saying "dang kids and their newfangled ways"

cosmographia

HAHAHAHAH

that is not far off honestly

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

lol oh man, i must understand schnell better than i realize then.

✨Emma the Festive🍠Potato✨

Yeah Schnell is cool and interesting, I would like to know more about that guy

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

QUESTION 2. Bells and Schnell are entangled in a complicated “game” that directly correlates to ghosts coming into existence. However, Schnell is enigmatic at best. What is Schnell’s goal with this game, and why does he care about ghosts being saved? Why does Bells even agree to play this game? As the first ghost, how did Schnell come to exist? Does it have anything to do with the game? Lastly, what is this “fish” that Schnell’s mentioned to Bells that would make his job easier?

cosmographia

hahahaha as is with the story, there's going to be a few bits and pieces about Schnell presently, but as for his backstory and past in general, is still going to take a bit to explore (to not lunge the reader with too much information, especially since we're still in the adaluxen arc) 2) Great questions, one second!

- What is Schnell’s goal with this game, and why does he care about ghosts being saved? Schnell originally served under Bells (in the Monster King comic, he's still wearing what is currently called the Guardian uniform) and he assisted Bells in returning ghosts back to where they came from with other characters we may have met but can't say ;D So despite him being tired of what he defines as "Bells' constant failures" and even promoting them (as he says in chapter 4 that he IS to blame with why Acantha wasn't saved), he's trying to use negative reinforcement to get Bells to do [something] I can't say yet but it's definitely related to Schnell's earliest memory he told Acantha in chapter 4. (About the white being that drinks tea) -As the first ghost, how did Schnell come to exist? That is sadly a spoiler for now, but he is definitely telling the truth that he was a ghost and with Bells' and the other guardians misunderstanding of what a ghost was (since they had never seen one before) did lead to how he got his powers. (This will be explored later) -Does it have anything to do with the game? The "game" was invented after Schnell stopped working for the guardians, it's more of a jab as in "if you're not going to take this seriously, let's make it a game then" kind of approach. -Lastly, what is this “fish” that Schnell’s mentioned to Bells that would make his job easier? The fish is actually a cosmic fish, they are actual physical entities but that's all I can say for now hahaha

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

hmm some food for thought for theorizing

cosmographia

hahahah yea no definitely go ahead and share if you have any theories

MathTans the Pun Prince

I made it home! ^.^

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

im actually most surprised by the fact schnell actually helped return ghosts at one point. i personally always thought he was eternally bitter

welcome math~!

cosmographia

hello there! hahahahah

he holds bitterness and resentment for a lot of things since day 1 though, you are not far off it's just things that gradually evolved

MathTans the Pun Prince

Gonna take a second to catch up, but in terms of favourite scene, I actually liked the whole "Toy" side story. It showed the Guardians of the world, showed they weren't omnipotent, showed they were maybe out of touch through no fault of their own, just thought that was very clever.

(Delves into backlog.)

cosmographia

much like Acantha, he was very optimistic but after a while he lost it. So Schnell is semi-meant to represent the bitterness Acantha could eventually develop if she dwells on her failures

ey thanks! but oh man I'm so glad the out of touchness is clear in that!! guardians are definitely out of touch with the world, of all ironies

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

for me the out of touchness perhaps more came about when ramus attacked i think

just cause they didnt pay mind to the ppl around

just were focused on fighting

and syias was like "yeah sure another guardian can show up im sure nobody will freak out"

cosmographia

yea that's definitely important later

even with Bells trying to befriend Acantha, she's more determined like "I'M approaching her so it'll be cool right" without actually considering the harm's she's done (the collar, some resentment, etc.)

MathTans the Pun Prince

Yeah, lots of lore in this one. Interesting how things don't necessarily end happy or sad, it's just like, this is how things are for better or worse. Also, yeah, like Bells as a character.

Guardians are interesting in general.

cosmographia

yessssss, thank you Math!

I'm sometimes worried the comic comes off as too pessimistic when it's meant to be an inbetweener

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i cant speak for everyone but i think its an inbetweener. or more accurately, i think the story is just reality based, in that reality isnt pessimistic or optimistic 100% of the time

it just is what is it

bad stuff happens

and ppl have to keep living

so really i just feel like the characters are living actual live

s

that have consequences

MathTans the Pun Prince

Acantha took getting used to as well. What with the attitude and stealing and stuff. (Which is weird to say, because my protagonists aren't always sweetness and making the right decision either.) I gravitated a bit to Bells.

cosmographia

Ah Rebel I'm really glad to hear that!! Hahahah I think that's fair, she's definitely written to be bratty at first

MathTans the Pun Prince

Q2: Schnell just seems to have it in for Bells somehow? Like, maybe he had mother issues in his life and he's taking it out on her as "mother ghost" kind of deal IDK. Using everyone else to do that.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

man i cannot unpicture someone pointing at schnell and just shouting "you have mother issues!"

XD

cosmographia

HAHAHAHA

MathTans the Pun Prince

Once we see Acantha's history she becomes loads more sympathetic too, to be clear.

cosmographia

p sure if/when the ghost kids find out about that they'll just slowly turn to him and go "REALLY????" cuz THEY definitely have valid father-figure issues

good!!

MathTans the Pun Prince

"Were you hugged enough as a child?"

cosmographia

Hahahahahahahaha

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yeah i really appreciated acantha's backstory. i think it was super needed right at the point it was presented. cause it finally showed that her own actions and attitude were a direct result of her past and what happened

cosmographia

good!! There's definitely chunks missing from there but they'll be studied throughout the story (and also gone fishing short stories thrown here and there)

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

>v>

in regards to question two part of me has been wondering if schnell just doesnt like his own life and he wants ghosts to be saved so he himself can be saved and move on.

MathTans the Pun Prince

Yeah, negative reinforcement is really kind of a dick move. IMHO. Hmm, so cosmic fish bunnies exist outside of space time?

(Ok, caught up...)

cosmographia

ooh ho ho nice theory Rebel! Ah yeah cosmic fishes are not directly related to Lheur (but I can say he is part cosmic fish, but not entirely)

MathTans the Pun Prince

I kind of wonder if Schnell really does know more than he lets on. Like, maybe he's been able to exist as long as he has by drinking the blood of virigins every hundred years. And he doesn't want anyone to kill because then they might stumble on the secret too.

Lheur is a fish offspring perhaps.

cosmographia

hahahahah no it's not THAT dark hahahahhaha mmmmaybe ;D

though I CAN say that, like guardians, cosmic entities like the fish and such can't biologically reproduce

wishjacked

Oh hey, I'm not going to be able to talk much (I'm at a holiday party!!) but I wanted to say that I finally read through the chapter three epilogue after this comic being on my TBR for ageeeeeees and I cannot wait to read the rest!!

MathTans the Pun Prince

(Have I mentioned I put out crazy theories? Cuz I do that.)

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

ah see, clearly bells made schnell on purpose cause she was like "ah man being a mom would be great" and now schnell is bitter cause he has an eternity to live

cosmographia

hi Wishjack, thank you!!! And I hope you have a wonderful time at the party (hahaha no problem at all, I find them funny)

hahahahah

MathTans the Pun Prince

Hiya wishjacked! Any fave in what you read?

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

thanks for stopping in wishjacked~!

cosmographia

Bells "aw man I definitely wish I knew what being a mom is like" -creates the most brattiest, entitled little thing- "....dammit"

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

meanwhile syias is in the bg saying i told you so

wishjacked

Such a good story so far, I'm really enjoying the characters and worldbuilding!! The bit with the mayor getting eaten by the starfaces was my favorite moment so far, and I'm REALLY looking forward to seeing how the story progresses!! Schnell's design slays me every time, it's so good.

cosmographia

ahh thank you wishjacked!!

and PFFT

Syias: lemme guess, now you want a PET? -Lheur shows up- Syias: OH COME ON.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

QUESTION 3. One of the larger conflicts in the comic is whether or not ghosts can be saved. Exactly why do ghosts form in the first place? Do you think they can actually be saved? Why can’t the guardians save them from the get-go? If ghosts are doomed to become monsters/change like Ramus, why hasn’t Schnell changed? Is this human character, Midah, going to have some role in their salvation? Speaking of which, what is Lheur’s (the rabbit-fish) role in all this?

MathTans the Pun Prince

Oh yeah! That thing with Mayor Pain was clever in terms of showing the light/dark reversal kind of thing too. Like, how it was actually not a bad thing and just part of "life", such as it is.

Also, twintailed star people. Strangely cute.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i liked mayor pain's reaction to being "eaten"

that was like a hilarious expression moment all around for everyone

cosmographia

Hahahahah! okay yea one sec!

MathTans the Pun Prince

Also, french bread puns (and puns in general) gets an A+.

When having dinner, Lheur might have a minute amount of seconds.

Going back to the quesiton, I wonder if ghosts form from things other than humans.

(Schnell has the blood of virgins thing going for him, like vampires...)

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

oh thats a good question math

i never considered that possibility

MathTans the Pun Prince

It just seemed like if they have no memory of being human, maybe they weren't, but I'm not sure about the alternative.

As to Lheur's role, it seems to be making collars.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

hmm. its possible. although i considered the fact they dont remember being human is just from the sheer fact they no longer possess the brain that contains their memories. so its not like theyd have concept of what a human even is

MathTans the Pun Prince

Mayor Pain wasn't exactly human either though.

Of course, that might have been another plane of existence entirely.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yeah we do gotta remember lheur teleported them somewhere. who knows where that even was.

not to mention theres monsters besides ghosts anyway

so the existence isnt that odd

MathTans the Pun Prince

True. Maybe it's regrets of the guardians made manifest or something. >.<

cosmographia

Exactly why do ghosts form in the first place? I can't really give the exact reason as to WHY they're there without diving into spoilers, but ghosts' bodies are a defense mechanism to a world they're suddenly being thrust upon. They don't go through the normal developmental process of baby, childhood, teenager, adult, but are thrown in at mid-teenager and expected to pick everything up in a matter of days. So their bodies are responses to society, personal, and cultural expressions and after a while they just CAN'T go back to where they came from (literally and metaphorically) Do you think they can actually be saved? I think anyone can be saved but it's not in the concepts a lot of western cultures define it as. It's not that someone like a friend or a romantic partner saves you or a higher entity (in this case guardians), but more how much you're willing to accept your own flaws and work toward them for your OWN betterment and everything else comes afterward. So a lot of what happens later isn't about being saved by a guardian before they turn, but WHAT you do with the circumstances and your own definition. You sometimes can't take back the things you've said and done (Ramus physically hurting Hessa, and Acantha's crime that often gets talked about) but how you respond to it, gives it meaning (Ramus allowed his negative thoughts to control his life till he became a monster, Acantha just pushes forward) Why can’t the guardians save them from the get-go? The only guardians that have the connections to the ghosts are Bells and Syias mainly because they feel the life cycle being disturbed, but for them to actually locate a ghost is a bit of a task. Actually, I'll answer this question with another question, if in chapter 1 we see that Bells compresses the souls but we know they can't filter through the guardian, where does she take them? ;>

If ghosts are doomed to become monsters/change like Ramus, why hasn’t Schnell changed? That definitely has to do with his powers and something else we'll see at the very beginning of the next chapter ;D Is this human character, Midah, going to have some role in their salvation? HEHEH. We'll see. Speaking of which, what is Lheur’s (the rabbit-fish) role in all this? Honestly, I'm gonna explain this soon so I'll say it here, but Lheur's role is that he makes sure the universes are running smoothly and healthy. He's kinda like the little guy with a notebook who takes notes at anomalies and leaves, but has befriended Bells little by little through his visits And yea, the comic has never stated if they were human at all, and honestly, that doesn't matter since they can't go back nor have memories from that possibility. They could've been anything or even nothing! It's who and what they are now that counts

MathTans the Pun Prince

Speaking of western cultures, it's interesting to see some of the Puerto Rico tidbits. I like stuff like that.

cosmographia

oh I like that theory Math

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

peeks in

Hw yeveryone

Almost forgot about CTP again

cosmographia

Yea!! I honestly wanted to make a comic that would motivate people to find the reference or see something and go "-gasp- that looks like the thing in Cosmic Fish!"

hello there!!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

hey super~!

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Hi Cosmo! Hi Rebel!

MathTans the Pun Prince

Well, and with Acantha's many eyes, I originally thought she was the comic fish. (Maybe she is, in a metaphor way?) But now it seems more likely to be beings like Lheur.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Also that's an intresting piece of trivia

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

ah okay i guessed right on lheur. i thought thats what his role would actually turn out to be. that hes some being of order spying on things to make sure everything is okay. but then this begs the question of whether or not the ghosts are considered anamolies.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Refrences are fun to do

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

as for where bells took the soul i assumed it was to some cosmic place where the cosmic fish are

but now i think that makes is sound like the souls are fish food

cosmographia

Nice!! Ghosts are definitely anomalies ooh interesting guess! ovo

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Ooh is that so

MathTans the Pun Prince

The souls are soles? O.o

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

and idk i could still argue acantha is the cosmic fish in a metaphorical sense, math. it depends on what the message of the comic is cause acantha could be considered the embodiment of the title even if shes not the literal fish as far as the lore is concerned

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

also Acantha is the cutest thing with six eyes that I've seen yet(edited)

cosmographia

thank you justing!!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

if lheur is responsible for the collar i wonder if the collar is some sort of experiment from lheur's "superiors" to see if they can help ghosts move on and return things to status quo

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

You're welcome XD

MathTans the Pun Prince

I still have such a soft spot for Bells. With her rolly head. I don't like that Schnell teases her about it.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I'm actually Justin but everyone in this group likes to call me Justing

cosmographia

yea!! Yea you're right on the money about the metaphorical title Rebel, cosmic fish is attributed to Acantha's personal growth + an actual thing in the story

oh ok sorry <"D

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Lol it's k XD

MathTans the Pun Prince

OH, which reminds me, in one of those animated sequences (which OMG, very impressed that it's a thing) it looked like Bells' head was rolling away until she grabbed it and I laughed. (edited)

cosmographia

ooooh I love these theories

hahahahaha YEA!

MathTans the Pun Prince

Rebel: Hm, maybe? Are the true cosmic fish Lheur's surperiors, and they made him to keep tabs on things?

"Create some bunny ears to be more non-threatening."

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I'm also a total sucker for characters with stick eyes like Bells/Raju

(and thank you deeply for doing chapter recaps)

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

maybe. although makes me wonder what cosmic fish are again. like are they embodiments of the universe. beings that exist in the cosmic flow of life. O_O regular ol' space fish

cosmographia

hahahahah OH ey good!

hahaha

ah man I can't say yet

I CAN say they're kinda dumb.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

regular ol' space fish it is

cosmographia

hahahahahah

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

schnell just wants to have a good fish dinner

cosmographia

he just wants the pet fish Bells told him he wasn't responsible enough for it

MathTans the Pun Prince

They're Acantha's siblings sent back through time after she creates them.

cosmographia

oh GOD

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

lol

I want a pet space fish

cosmographia

no , like...time is a thing but there's no legit time travel in the comic I REFUSE to work with time travel(edited)

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

that's understandable

since time travel is in everything these days

cosmographia

yeah honestly

also I don't want the answer to the comic to just be "time travel"

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i do kind of wonder if acantha had some sort of interaction with the cosmic fish unknowingly just cause she kind of wound up looking like a fish dragon thing

MathTans the Pun Prince

Hee. I do time travel. It's not as popular as you might think. ^^ But there was one remark about how time was fluid or something and so how they're not really ghosts, that's an element.

cosmographia

time is a very delicate and finicky thing in the comic so it's unreliable, nervous, and nobody likes it

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I'd probobly try time travel a grand total of one time in my series(edited)

because the story is all about it

Especially since you have to write about things like, paradoxes

cosmographia

yeah!

MathTans the Pun Prince

Maybe Acantha will learn how to do the cosmic fish teleport, maybe that's what the collar is preparing her for.

cosmographia

and as for the question Rebel, it'd be interesting yeah! But for now nah, Acantha just looks fish-like because she was drowning. She isn't technically special in any way.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

oh really

cosmographia

ye ye

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

QUESTION 4. Our protagonist, Acantha, has numerous mysteries about her. With her being Bells’ newest strategy to save ghosts, the mysteries are more poignant than ever. Do you think Bells is right that Acantha might save the ghosts/prove Schnell’s wrong? While it’s implied Acantha broke the rulef about killing the past, what do you think exactly happened (and why does that rule exist)? Will she reunite with Hessa and the others? How will she react to Ramus’ death? Will we ever find out how Acantha became a ghost exactly due to Schnell’s machinations?

cosmographia

if anything Schnell is supposed to be the "special/chosen one/what have you" he's the half-and-half, as in, half ghost half guardian that stories usually use to treat as the hero but he ain't!!(edited)

MathTans the Pun Prince

Maybe Acantha broke the rule partly to annoy Schnell.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

what about half spider

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

well i remember it was implied that she did it to protect the others

but from what

from some icky human

?

MathTans the Pun Prince

Schnell is like evil Hercules.

Maybe to protect them from Schnell. She says she doesn't trust him.

confleiks

so i may have just pictured schnell in an ill-fitting kid's costume of disney hercules

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

perhaps

MathTans the Pun Prince

Bells is Hades?

"Whoa, is my head off?"

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

MIND BLOWN

MathTans the Pun Prince

Just reverse the morality.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

hmmm

cosmographia

Do you think Bells is right that Acantha might save the ghosts/prove Schnell’s wrong? Their bet mainly consists that despite everything that happened, Acantha still saved a ghost (back in chapter 1) unlike what Schnell would have done. So, in a way, yes, I think Bells is on to something but is approaching it in a very black and white way and that can be bad for Acantha. So both need to work on their own things there. While it’s implied Acantha broke the rule about killing the past, what do you think exactly happened (and why does that rule exist)? There are a few reasons, killing is considered a problem with ghosts because, it's, well, bad, and it might speed up the process since ghosts change into monsters due to negative thoughts. Also since ghosts aren't SUPPOSED to be there, them killing someone is a paradox (though nothing universe breaking is happening, so it might just be guardian paranoia) and Schnell is against killing personally because he believes there are worse punishments. What Acantha did, IS covered soon, so I can just say, she deliberately killed a human and it wasn't even out of self-defense. Her own reasoning is understandable once that's taken place (it's foreshadowed a bit in Gone Fishing 003, the one with Midah) Will she reunite with Hessa and the others? Time will tell, but most likely because good narrative structure would incline that to be so, but it's really a matter of WHAT will happen and WHEN ;D How will she react to Ramus’ death? Oh we're finding out about that very soon, so stay tuned! Will we ever find out how Acantha became a ghost exactly due to Schnell’s machinations? Yesssss, by next chapter!

and hahahahaha

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

oh boy

dis is gonna be fun

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

my semi crack theory is that schnell happened upon unformed acantha and said "ah mother isnt here" and then he kicked her into the lake/river

and then sipped some tea

MathTans the Pun Prince

Speaking of Acantha and Schnell, Gallo was pretty cool. And funny at times. Though he really shouldn't have spilled the beans there, in retrospect.

cosmographia

hahahaha no she WAS there but close ;D

MathTans the Pun Prince

Possibly sipped the tea first.

cosmographia

hahaha

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Did i hear

tea

MathTans the Pun Prince

I also liked with Gallo's first appearance Acantha was all "nope nope nope". Then it got echoed later. Nice little throwback.

cosmographia

he really shouldn't have but I'm hoping once i get the short stories edited and out into the world, it's going to be very clear that the ghost kids are crazy dependent on Schnell as their fix-all solution YEEES

confleiks

@cosmographia HI MOM

cosmographia

good on ya for catching the callback

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

TEEEEEAAAAAA

cosmographia

@confleiks HI MOM

tea is important in the comic hahahaha well for a few characters but

MathTans the Pun Prince

Good on you for writing it.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

@cosmographia HI MOM

I like comics that have tea as a theme for some reason

cosmographia

hahahahah

I'm trying to get to the page that the tea thing is mentioned

MathTans the Pun Prince

Also Gallo makes me think "pico de gallo" and he's red like salsa so that works.

cosmographia

http://cosmicfishes.com/comic/chapter-4-page-20/

Cosmic Fish

cosmographia

Chapter 4, page 20

HAHAH Gallo means rooster, so close enough!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i really like gallo's design. but speaking of gallo i enjoy the fact that there are certain things they cant do cause of how their bodies are made. like the fact gallo doesnt really have hands so has to pick stuff up with his teeth. thats a really nice detail

MathTans the Pun Prince

Hands are really an issue with the guy, of course.

Yeah, my spanish is not good. ^^;

cosmographia

yea!

Gallo is handicapped but it isn't plot or character-development related, it's just a thing that is and that's ok!

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

so a cartoon monster or whatever Schnell is loves him some tea

MathTans the Pun Prince

Can Acantha ever close all her eyes? Like, I can see why she wouldn't like dark tunnels, not used to never seeing anything.

cosmographia

the two small ones have transparent eyelids like crocodiles

confleiks

I wonder if Acantha ever threw a blanket over his head because she thought he might think it's nighttime and fall asleep

cosmographia

but they see shapes and shadows for the most part

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

lolol

cosmographia

HAHAHA

confleiks

YES HAHAHAHAHA

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

thats a good picture. i accept this as a canon scenario.

cosmographia

maybe it'll help her in her next stealthy heist

hahahaha

MathTans the Pun Prince

Oh yeah, cosmographia, saw some of your little pics at the bottom of some comics, those were clever.

cosmographia

ah thanks!!! poking fun at your own stories is A+

MathTans the Pun Prince

It's a thing with those who enjoy puns, maybe.

cosmographia

HA

maybe...definitely

there's a good number of puns or playful naming decisions for most characters here

MathTans the Pun Prince

I'm sure I only noticed half. ^^

cosmographia

hahaha well some become more relevant later

Acantha isn't JUST called Acantha because of the mirror decoration

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

OMG LOL

THAT PIC

MathTans the Pun Prince

So you have the whole thing sketched out for a while yet, eh?

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

The rag is the ultiamte weapon

MathTans the Pun Prince

OOOooooh, interesting. (Reminded of the pic where she's just taking the mirror away, heh.)

cosmographia

she's a "support" for other characters ;3 likeapillarsupport...it'sagreekthing

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

heehee

cosmographia

hahahah

MathTans the Pun Prince

It's so ionic.

cosmographia

and YEAH! the characters are pretty old and the story took a long time in the oven andalotofreading

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

oh really?

how long have you been planning this comic?

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i did wonder if acantha's meaning was super on purpose and not just cause timing and place XD

cosmographia

2012...? At least that's when the first draft happened, some characters are from 2009 or so

hahahahahah

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

ooh wow

cosmographia

yea it's unconscious but also it'll start gaining relevancy throughout the story right now it's just her own word for identity, so it's a "self" definition, and it needs to evolve into "action" or how it's perceived.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

mine started planning around '09, but I haven't started making the full story for it yet

cosmographia

ooh!

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

and I have a feeling it'll take me a long time

cosmographia

that's normal though, and also gives you a time to re-do things

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Yeah

cosmographia

or re-establish them and make em more solid

MathTans the Pun Prince

The little plush doll cameos was cute in that one update too, wonder if that was inspired by something?

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Lots of things have changed in my project over the years, mostly for the better

(at least I hope the changes I did make were for the better)

cosmographia

CF definitely became WAY better when I started researching the science-y parts oh! it was a thank you for a lot of people who were supporting me at the time and just did a call on twitter and fb if people wanted cameos

good!!

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

oh nice~

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i like that idea of acantha's name turning from a piece of identification into an action. thats a really beautiful sentiment that i think suits the comic

cosmographia

whoo!!

thanks!

MathTans the Pun Prince

Gotcha. Animation bits also impressed me. Nice that you have the support and music and such for such things.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

yea

MathTans the Pun Prince

And all the best with you health-wise cosmographia (I read some of the author remarks and comments).

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

^

Best of luck and hope everything goes smoothly

cosmographia

thanks!! I wanted to make animated bits for every chapter but that soon proved to be wayyy difficult. Major kudos to the musicians who've helped and sometimes having months in advance to plan out scenes. (Bells juggling her head while fleeing from Ramus was made like...5 months in advance)

ay thank you so much!!

MathTans the Pun Prince

That whole thing with Bells head, subtle running joke, don't know why it amuses me so much.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Welcome

MathTans the Pun Prince

Maybe cuz I like her character and it helps show that she's also a bit imperfect.

cosmographia

hahahaha GOOD!

confleiks

Bells is like a very excitable and eager to please ancient puppy and I love her so much

cosmographia

Bells was definitely made to APPEAR like the perfect fix-all character but definitely is neither of those things upon further inspection

yessssss :')

confleiks

she'd be a cocker spaniel or bassett hound because of her long ears :>

MathTans the Pun Prince

Hee! She has dogged perseverance.

confleiks

BA DUM TS

cosmographia

hahahahahaha

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

relatedly i want to say i really like the mentions of how the ppl worship the guardians. i think it really capture the disconnect between ppls idealistic image of them and the actual true nature of their existence

cosmographia

^^^^^ Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Yea

MathTans the Pun Prince

Another nice callback actually was when Acantha said she didn't like the story of the toy, which had been shown earlier.

Rebel: Very good point.

cosmographia

"the guardians are perfect and want what's best for us" -Bells trips in the next scene-

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

lol

MathTans the Pun Prince

Also, I think it was the right idea to not really have people until the later chapters. Keeps the focus on the curious beings, who are the major players.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

^

cosmographia

Ye!! It also kinda hinted that any potential narrator might not be a narrator but something....or someoooone

yea!!!!

cosmographia

"what's the toy?" Oh, literally just a bed time story Schnell told Acantha and she hated it.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i do like seeing humans tho. cause everyone kept mentioning them but i was like "where are they O_O"

cosmographia

HAHAHAH

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

"who are these "living" things"

MathTans the Pun Prince

"Humans are mythological creatures."

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Are ghosts made of flesh in this comic?

cosmographia

"they're not the center of the universe it seems, just some other random animal"

yeah they gain a physical body but they can't control it after a while

MathTans the Pun Prince

It is interesting that humans aren't really huge or anything though. They're size-wise about right for everything else, I think.

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

ooh

Superjusting of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

alroight then

MathTans the Pun Prince

All the best with the fishy stuff going forwards then. ^.^

cosmographia

yea they're just...part of everything else. Which is also why I was very avoidant of using them at the beginning, cuz this isn't a story about them no matter how hard they try

cuz we humans naturally desire to be the protagonists

MathTans the Pun Prince

Good call.

cosmographia

so the narrative is purposely going "there they are...in the distance. Moving on."

MathTans the Pun Prince

We're also sometimes the antagonists.

cosmographia

they're not good, they're not bad, they're there.

yep!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

Unfortunately, the scheduled Comic Tea Party is now complete~! Thank you everyone so much for joining this week’s chat~! That being said, if you would like to continue discussing the comic, we encourage you to do so~! We want to give a big thank you to cosmographia, as well, for volunteering Cosmic Fish for our reading queue. If you liked the comic, please be sure to support cosmographia’s efforts. If you have questions, concerns, or suggestions about CTP, please feel free to PM me, or e-mail me at rebelvampire@startfaire.com.

With that said, next week’s Comic Tea Party will focus on Final Light by BraveHeartTatsumaki. Please use this week to read as much of the comic as you would like. Hope to see you next Thursday (January 4th, 2018) from 5PM to 7PM PST~! Until then~! Comic: https://tapas.io/series/FinalLight

[magnaturbaestinurbe-blog]

PODCAST BROS. AU

I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd stuff.

II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks  Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.

III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.

IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.

V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.

VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)

VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)

VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-

IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.

X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.

XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m.  silent, sexuality-specific  realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.

XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with  a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.

XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written  is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana  with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!

XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)

XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd stuff. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)

XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.

[docboots]

On How I Learned I Had Hereditary Angioedima

I initially wrote this in an attempt to get it published. Well, that was the ultimate hope. My more realistic goal I was hoping sending it to editors might give me input so that I could edit accordingly. Like the teachers I came across in the public education system had assured me.

I really should have been more skeptical of people giving me advice on how to get published when they were oddly reluctant (read: never produced) to show they followed their own advice and got published. This is not how, at least in my experience trying a number of magazines over the past few months, it worked out.

Instead, they say something like, 'It was well written, but not for us'. Maybe a little 'You have a nice voice and it a deep and touching read. But not for us'. Basically, a lot of brushing me up with a compliment before the normal rejection that all reads the exact same. (Much like my emails from the lawyers and the claims handlers of social security!) There is no real input. Nothing of substance nor anything constructive. Nothing negative even! There is nothing on WHY I wasn't accepted so I may improve. As they want a "unique creative voice, that story only YOU can tell, and blah blah" it'd be nice to know how I do not fit their mold so I could possibly use this apparent skill in writing I have for profit. Maybe get more knowledge on HAE out there. Maybe make this just a little easier.

Since that doesn't seem to be working with this particular article, and that response is getting tired given what it involves, it is better to have it here so I don't have to repeat myself to lawyers and doctors.

On that note! Hello new attorney, should you be reading this. You see, I finally got a letter back from my attorney. It simply said that I had my case transferred to someone new, who was writing the letter, and yet another copy of the memo they have explaining that the average wait time to be heard by an attorney is between 15-17 months. The only difference is somehow the wait is even longer.

All avenues say to pester and be heard, so I am sorry but I am aiming to do that. Especially now that I am being handed around like a hot potato legally, federally, and medically. I got a letter sent to me saying I am no longer eligible for Medicaid. More distressingly, it says the reason is that Medicaid is ending.

No more therapy, no more dentist, no more overpriced painful medication that at least is something, no more doctor visits, nothing. I can not afford it, and I am not going to waste money that can be spent on the thing that at least won't' be pulled out from under me. Where there are potheads, there will be someone who grows and sells it.

The sad thing? Those "criminals" (mostly) treated me a hell of a lot better than this system. Than medical marijuana. They at least let me wait out in the cold in my fucking car. They at least ADMITTED I had a god damn blood disease.

Enraged rant from 9/27/2017 over. Not a rant on when I was 16, when I first found out that I had this drama coursing through my veins. Hopefully, this new madness doesn't make me have to repeat it out of the stress, eh?

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There had been signs, but I did not know I had the genetic blood disease that would reprogram how I approached life until I woke up with the worst stomach ache of my life a little more than a decade ago. The dread of waking up for high school washed away with a sucker punch from life. The sharp stabbing from my gut should have made me realize this was no ordinary stomach bug, but I have a terrible tendency of ignoring my gut instincts. I only grew mildly concerned when I began to puke with the cadence and fervor of a dying banshee. Every heave feeling like my muscles were testing the tensile strength of my ribs while simultaneously trying to send my stomach on a whimsical journey through my esophagus. Not only was my body violently rejecting what looked to be a liquid combination of every meal I had ever had or dreamed of, but it adamantly refused to let even water back down my overworked throat.

I’d, of course, nurse water down at every opportunity in an attempt to wash away the bitter bile that clung to my throat like an oil, as well fight against the dehydration creeping in. This would end up being a fruitless effort. It would give me relief from the dehydration, only for it to be replaced with spiraling nausea. The dry feeling of a void in my throat spreading into my gut would return shortly, a few sips of water hardly held it back. All the while the jabbing pain in my stomach only seemed to grow worse. It even seemed to be warm, possibly burning. It is hard to tell if something is a particular flavor of pain when there was a far more notable kick in the same area. I would later find out this was due to a portion of my gastrointestinal system swelling up. I would also later find out this would be a pain I’d become intensely familiar with.

This would go on for two to three days before my parents realized how serious it was. They were worried, of course, it was just clear at that point I was neither sick with a stomach bug nor performing some form of elaborate ruse to get out of school. Though I was, at that point, still weighing whether or not getting to miss school for a few days was worth the agony. Not when you can’t enjoy Pokemon Snap, was my reasoning. While I was certain it was just that food poisoning thing everyone was talking about, as I was experimenting with cooking, my parents feared that this was a sign they had been dreading. My birth mother, having been adopted by my grandmother in a chapter of my life worth its own essay, had a genetic blood disease called Hereditary Angioedema. I had a 50% chance of getting it at birth, and I have come to learn that this game is rigged in Nature’s favor.

Surprisingly, a juvenile puking like Pazuzu had an interest in his soul did little to hasten the eternal waiting that is common with an emergency room. Parked between someone with a mild fever and another with a few twitches, we spent an eternity waiting to be seen. As the hours ticked by I became more and more familiar with the pulsing in my gut, having leaped beyond the stage reserved for crying and whining and now locked firmly in the anxious groans and curses towards nature and any deity that I could remember. Luckily I had always had a fondness for mythology, so I had a nice list of fresh legendary gods and goddesses to gripe towards.

It was rather embarrassing carrying around the black trash bag, what with it smelling like an inside-out stomach while sloshing with every step to make certain people knew of its presence. Given the pain in my stomach and the overwhelming exhaustion that comes from dry heaving through the night, I figured it easier to use that to dry heave into. Nothing was really going into the bag, but I figured it’d put people's’ minds at ease. At some point, I had ditched it in exchange for the toilets. Any hope I had that people might think I was in there doing something natural was squashed by the rather disheveled looking man. The man was waiting in a lobby far enough for me to have an idea of the radius of my retching, which by this marker was already alarmingly vast, and made it clear he had heard by courteously asking if I was alright. The concern in his eyes and hanging in his voice made it clear it wasn’t purely an attempt to be cordial. Given the pained noises that your own swollen stomach will cause as it gyrates to the beat of your hoarse vomiting, the man may have just been wanting to be sure I would not respond in tongues or by crawling away on the ceiling. Possibly he feared something worse, like whatever the news was frantic over that year.

As haunting as this situation may be, It is surprising how quickly you get used to pain. It might burn and pulse so that every second has you thinking of it in some capacity. It might make it so every tiny movement makes your every nerve scream and your brain berate you for attempting to function, it might strike when you are too young to process the reason or too old to overcome. It might be due to an immature belief that ‘big boys don’t cry’ or from being hardened due to previous experiences. Like a bad smell, you can grow accustomed to the agony. To the point your every twitch doesn’t cause you to bark out a yelp of pain.

It got to where even I was surprised that I didn’t fully freak out as I was loaded into an ambulance. Shock and adrenaline is a hell of a drug. As nice as the doctors there were, they were not set up to house an adolescent in a hospital bed at that facility. The fresh hell I had been whisked to, however, was another matter entirely. Thankfully I had been given a lovely dose of morphine to keep the pain and nausea away. Also helpful was the IV that I was now attached to pumping me with all the glorious liquids one normally has when in deep stages of dehydration. I was told that if I hadn’t come in when I did, I’d have been at a high risk of complications or death from the lack of liquids, or anything for that matter, in my stomach for the past few days. The anxiety and fear were not so easily stifled. It was here I learned of my disorder, mostly from my parents, something that took quite a long while to sink in.

Hereditary Angioedema is a genetic blood disease that is rare enough that, now a decade later, I still spend far more time explaining my disorder and symptoms than getting any headway in my care. This was proven through my doctor’s insistence on cutting into me and putting a camera in there to be certain. Luckily, my parents talked them out of it, for you see this disorder causes swelling in random places when mental or emotional stress is involved while if I have any physical stress, such as a hit to the arm or merely overexerting myself) the area will swell. The swelling tends to be to the point, should my hand swell, I am unable to bend any of my joints and lasts anywhere between two days to a month. If I am so lucky. So should the doctor have made headway on his desire for a bit of surgical spelunking for what was wrong, I would have likely had to deal with the areas cut into swelling. Our arguments were treated as if we were belligerent, not that my stepmom had experience dealing with this with my birth mom and grandfather (step-great grandfather? My family tree is mildly complicated) who both had the disorder, given you know, genetic.

Luckily, in spite of the Doctor being a prat, the nurses were immensely nice. They even had this small tv on a cart with a ps2 plugged in they let me use occasionally. As the entire experience was maddeningly stressful, the distraction and escape helped me process the new tidbit of knowledge about my biology. Specifically, it didn’t seem to be my biggest fan.

This might sound like I am allergic to stress, and in a sense I am. Antihistamines and the typical allergy medicine don’t do squat and the actual medicine has been hit and miss. 98% miss. Not many companies have room for such genetic shenanigans either. All this I fretted over as I sat in that hospital room as they observed me and made sure my liquids would be back to normal.

How do you escape stress? This demon that escaped the mouths of every living being. Vibrates from every object and every mild action. How could I possibly live when the world itself has potential to kill me? Google did nothing to soothe my worries. It instead believed it would be helpful to fling the statistic that 33%-66% of sufferers died from complications, most often asphyxiation, due to swelling. Life has taught me many things, but this one event taught me that the internet was terrible for anxiety. It did wonders for making mildly stressful situations evolve into a full-blown fit of hypochondria.  Another thing I learned, for the curious, is 85% of all statistics are bull. As that statistic has steadily dropped since. Be it modern advancement or better information, it no longer festers in my mind.

Back then, however? It festered. It consumed my every thought and action before I even realized it. I began quitting hobbies left and right that used to fascinate me. Worse? No one could blame me. In fact, everyone encouraged it. When your own body is puffing up like a balloon at the drop of the hat spurred on by not just these physical hobbies but the everyday madness of life coupled with the special circumstances life decided to dole out to me to be CERTAIN I did not live a single second without madness and anxiety itching at my cortex. I struggled through the pain in others though, and I found what was worth holding on to.

I often remember sitting in that hospital room bouncing between wallowing in self-pity and rage only to tug myself up with an imaginary pep talk. Only to crumble. Then rise. A tremendously annoying cycle that repeated in those few days. As I am sure many do in their darker times, I often think of what I would tell myself then to improve my situation now. There is one thought I seem to always want to say.

It might have even started off as denial, but really, I was right in this sense. Everything would be alright. It’d be a struggle, it will continue to be. Even when my knee is swollen, even when I need a cane or a bit of help, I will get back up. Eventually. Maybe the pain is too much, or my energy is zapped. It is fine to relax, to contemplate. Maybe even veg. I will rise back to my feet. Even if every fiber of my being tells me I should give up, that nothing is worse this much struggle. I know at the bottom of my heart I will learn something from the experience. Be it something as small as the situation itself.

Sadly I would not be able to ease his concerns when it came to avoiding stress entirely. It lurks like an angry beast. Nestled in people's actions. I often relate it to being allergic to wasps, only everyone and everything produces them. Every word, every step, every thought. It takes a lot of time and patience to learn how to avoid the swarms. It was necessary to keep the stress from stinging me.

 That wouldn’t be the first time I would have to deal with that exact situation, nor the last. Life is still hard, and I may write more on what I learned from those struggles one day, but I will always write. I will turn my situations into something I will be proud of. Maybe a piece of horror, maybe a bit of the blues. Maybe I can turn it into a painting or maybe I can warp it into a 10 part mini-series. The disorder might try its damnedest to stand in my way. Be it having my gastrointestinal system swell the night before my first day on a job, leading to being fired, to the pointlessly difficult struggle that trying to get Disability is. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger after all. It builds your characters. It might slow me down for a short time, but I will never, ever stop.

Being stuck is far too stressful, after all. Got this thing about stress.