#ALSO I KNOW DANNY LOOKS KINDA MAD AND IS BLACK AND RED BUT HES NOT BAD BSUFJD hes just angsty

[mbat]

*subjects you to my OCs*

left to right:

Vee she/her, Danny he/him, Ruby she/her

Mitra she/her, Azure he/him, Sphinx they/them

Ray she/her, Myron he/him, Masahiko he/him

Ridae he/him, Actino she/her, Glious they/she/he

[ecto-american]

Stuck (Stubbornly)

Phic Phight Oneshot for @deuynndoodles​ : Jack and Maddie are stuck in the Ghost Zone. Fortunately for them, Phantom's around and willing to help out. However, they'll rather be arrested by a ghost warden and put in ghost jail before they'd allow some teenage menace to help them. Oh wait...

Read on AO3 or FFN

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"Should we call Jazz or Danny?" Jack suggested.

Maddie stared out into the unending void of the Ghost Zone. It hurt to think that their voyage, a trip that they had been planning out for months, would end so soon already, but they had barely made any progress when they realized just how much fuel the Specter Speeder was guzzling. Something was wrong.

"...Not yet," she determined. "We should have emergency fuel. We should be able to get back without any problems. Can you refill?"

"You got it," Jack replied, and he got out of the co-pilot seat. She could hear him go to the back, and shuffling around. He didn't say anything for a while, and that immediately began to unnerve her, but she kept her attention on the dashboard, trying to think of what went wrong when building. Was their fuel lines loose? Was there gas leaking everywhere? "Uh, Mads? I'm not seeing it?"

Her blood froze, but no need to panic. Maybe he just didn't see…

Maddie walked to the back and checked. And checked. Moved some stuff around, checked some more.

They had no emergency fuel.

"Why don't we go outside and check the engine?" Jack suggested. "Maybe we can figure something out." With a dry mouth, she nodded, and they hesitantly went outside to check.

There were no ghosts around, thankfully, just an endless green void. They knew that they would be safe breathing in the GZ air, thanks to their prior tests and experiments. They hooked themselves to a rope using a carabiner clip, the other end tied tightly to the speeder. Floating unnerved her, and she kept a hand on the speeder as they went to the front of the speeder. Jack popped the hood, and smoke floated out, making Maddie's heart sink. This was definitely not a good sign at all, or something that could be a simple fix.

"Need some help?"

Maddie looked over her shoulder to see…

"Absolutely not," she scowled. Phantom was floating nearby.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He floated up a bit higher to glance at their vehicle. "Looks like you got. Well, uh, basically car trouble."

"Leave. Now."

Phantom opened his mouth to say more, but Maddie pulled her ecto-gun out.

"We don't want help from some lowlife ghost!" she hissed. Phantom put his hands up in surrender and flew away.

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An hour passed, and they decided to take a break working on the engine. Every possible problem that she could think of had been exhausted, and she had to take a break to both cool down and think. She sat on the steps leading into the speeder, with Jack deciding to lay on the floor of the inside.

"Fuel line wasn't broken, none of the lines were cut or had knicks. There's no reason it should be draining so much gas," Jack thunk aloud. "There shouldn't be anything besides the engine that the gas is going to, and there's no weird random connections to anywhere else. The battery's still good."

"And we forgot the emergency fuel," Maddie slumped over. Jack sighed.

"It's my own fault," he replied. "I should have checked to make sure Jazz and Danny had properly put all the supplies in. A proper exploration team always triple checks before a voyage."

Maddie could only give a low hum of agreement as she stared out into the zone. She felt somebody pat the side of the speeder, and she scowled as she saw Phantom grinning at her, giving a half way.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"I brought help this time," Phantom told her, and he jerked a thumb behind him. It was finally then that she noticed the Red Huntress. Maddie raised an eyebrow.

"How in the world…" she murmured, only to trail off as she stared at the two of them. Jack sat up, and he poked his head out of the speeder.

"Oh dope! It's my favorite huntress!" Jack boomed. Red seemed bashful at the comment, shifting her weight onto her other foot and rubbing her upper arm.

"I mean, if you don't trust me or want my help, I figured you'd be willing to let a human help," Phantom explained, motioning towards Red.

"So, do you need help?" Red finally spoke up. She reached down to pat her left calf. "I have some tools with me, but I can always go and fetch more."

Something in Maddie's gut told her that this was very, very odd. Humans and ghosts working together so...willingly like this. She had taken note that Phantom and Red hadn't hunted each other down or fought like they used to, but she just assumed that they didn't quite run into each other that much anymore. Both were unpredictable with odd schedules and routines.

She glanced at Jack, who despite his initial enthusiasm, seemed to share her feelings, and she shook her head no.

"We'll be fine," she insisted. "You two should leave."

Red stared at Phantom, who shrugged his shoulders.

"So, wanna just go get some boba tea?" Phantom asked.

"And just leave them here?" Red scowled, motioning to the Fentons.

"They don't want our help," he replied. Red glanced from Phantom and the Fentons, who studied the two of them. She finally shrugged as well.

The two began to idly chat as they flew off, their conversation becoming more and more distant.

"That was weird," Maddie mused.

"Yeah, I thought she and Phantom were rivals," Jack mused. Maddie shrugged. Right now she wasn't too invested in the mystery. She'd worry about that later when they got home.

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Judging by their phones (which they had worriedly learned that they oh-so-helpfully had no reception in the land of the undead), another hour passed since Phantom and Red had left. Jack was deep into the engine, fiddling with a possible solution to the problem as Maddie stood nearby. She continued to think as she looked around. She was surprised that they hadn't been bothered by now.

"Trespassing in an unauthorized vehicle that is also a real world item," a deep southern voice boomed. Well, she absolutely spoke too soon.

They whipped their heads to see a huge, hulking figure, an all white man with a black hat, black gloves and wearing a suit of white.

"Ghost!" Jack squawked. He scrambled to grab his gun, Maddie already having hers drawn. The ghost frowned deeply. Maddie was finally very aware of just how many ghosts were surrounding them. Too many to count, but they all looked exactly like the ghosts that terrorized Amity Park years before, all identical and matching in uniform that resembled a SWAT team. There was also vehicles resembling police cars and police vans.

"Resisting arrest. That's against the rules," he continued. He opened a large green and white book in his hands, flipping to another page. "Assault and battery with a deadly weapon." He glanced up at them with an angry glare. "Y'all are going away for a long, long time."

"We're not going anywhere," Jack frowned. He charged up his weapon.

Maddie looked around, and she shivered anxiously. There was no way they could take on all these ghosts. She nudged Jack, and he side-eyed her curiously. She lowered her weapon, and she used her head to motion around them. Jack blinked as he looked himself, and all of his confidence left him. He also lowered his weapon.

"We'll go," Maddie finally spoke. The ghost smirked, and he knocked on the side of a police van. The back opened up.

"Surrender your weapons," he ordered.

One of the SWAT ghosts came forward with his arms outstretched. Reluctantly, the adults handed their weapons over, detaching themselves from the speeder and getting into the van.

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Their cell was a lot like a normal cell, and it was just them. Iron bars, no windows, single toilet, and four bunk beds. Jack was laying on one of the beds, facing the fall, as Maddie laid on the one across from him, staring up at the bunk bed above her.

Of course. Of course they ended up in ghost jail. It was just their luck. Though a scientist part of her was giddy at knowing that ghosts had some kind of legal system! Who would have known!

As she tried to start figuring out what on earth to do, she heard something banging against the jail bars.

She immediately sat up, staring to see Phantom making the noise by banging something in his hand on the bars. He was staring at them with a bright smile, and it only made her mood drop even more.

"Phantom!" Maddie hissed, standing fully and going up to the bars. "How did you find us?"

"We came back to check on you guys and see if you changed your minds," Phantom explained. Jack got up from his own bed to come over, looking surprised to see the infamous ghost teen. "Technus and Skulker were looting your speeder, and they said Walker arrested you. So we came by as quickly as we could."

The Fenton adults could see Red nearby, glancing around the corner. She was keeping watch.

"We're not going with you," Jack replied. Phantom rolled his eyes.

"Okay, and what? Stay here forever? Never see your kids again?" he asked. Their faces instantly dropped. "So do you wanna go home or not?"

Maddie narrowed her eyes at him before noticing that he was holding a metallic-looking cup of boba tea and raising an eyebrow.

"You brought a snack with you," she said. Phantom shrugged, offering it to her.

"Want a sip?"

"No! Just!" Maddie glanced at Jack worriedly, and he mirrored her expression. They, unfortunately, knew that they really...didn't have a choice. "Get us out of here!"

"Danny, you may wanna hurry it up," Red's voice called out softly to them. Maddie did a double take. Oh yeah. Danny Phantom. Huh, she kinda forgot about that.

Phantom nodded, and he dropped the boba tea, letting it float in the air as he phased them out of the jail cell. Maddie stared at him.

"Wait, you can just phase through?" she asked. Phantom shrugged.

"Uh, sorta yes, sorta no," he replied, grabbing his tea.

"Danny!" Red's voice hissed. Phantom glanced to her.

"Okay, so super quick rundown of Ghost Zone rules. In the Ghost Zone, you guys are the ghosts, so you basically can fly and phase through objects, so Red can phase through objects and you guys too, but this is also a human cell that only I can get you out, and speaking out getting out, we need to leave. Now," Phantom quickly explained. As soon as he finished, he motioned for them to follow him.

He began to fly towards Red, and they jogged after him. Phantom peered around the corner before pulling back. Red did too.

"How's our escape route looking?" Phantom asked. He took a sip of his drink as Red pulled up a map on her suit. She studied it for a bit.

"Hmm. We may run into some trouble," Red mused. "Best bet is for me to take Mr. and Mrs. Fenton and phase with them out of here, and…" She gave a weird pause. "We'll uh. Wait for you to escape on your own." Phantom sucked on his drink, and the sound of air coming through as he ran out of boba tea grinded Maddie's nerves.

"Oh would you just!" Maddie scowled, and she slapped the cup out of Phantom's hands.

"Hey! I paid for that!" Phantom cried out. He scrambled to pick it up. "They were having an unlimited refills special if you got that cup!" Red snorted in amusement.

"Danny, they kicked you out for getting too many refills anyway," she reminded him. Phantom made a face.

"Well maybe they shouldn't advertise it as unlimited refills then," he retorted.

"Most people don't drink twelve cups of boba tea," she replied.

"Maybe I should be rewarded for being able to drink that much then."

"Hm, we'll debate it later," Red replied. "Look, I'll get them out and meet you on the other side. Got it?"

"Got it," Phantom replied. To Maddie's horror and shock, Red lifted her visor up, but not all the way. Just enough to expose her lips, and she leaned into Phantom to give him a light peck on the lips.

"Be careful," she told him. Phantom nodded.

"I will," he promised. "If I'm not with you in five minutes. Just." He paused. "Leave without me, get the Fentons home, and then come back for me." Red nodded as her visor went all the way down.

"Grab my hands," Red instructed the Fentons. Maddie blinked, reluctantly taking one of her hands. Jack took the other. Red summoned her board, jumping in the air and allowing it to manifest beneath her. She held onto them tightly and flew through the walls.

Instinctively, Maddie closed her eyes as she flew through. Only to feel no impact. A blur of walls impaired her vision with constant flashes of the darkness of being in a thick jail wall and the light of the prison rooms and hallways. She blinked as the neutral green skies of the Ghost Zone finally greeted her, and Red continued flying until they were a decent distance from the prison. And now that she had a moment to think…

"What the hell are you thinking?" she exclaimed to Red. The huntress snapped her attention to her in confusion.

"What? You would have died if we let you stay in there!" she scowled.

"No, not that!" Maddie clarified. "I mean, thank you so much for helping us, but you? And Phantom?"

"Exactly!" Jack agreed. "He's an absolute menace! He's a danger! Don't you guys fight? What happened to all of that?"

She could see a glimpse of Red's face under her heavily tinted visor, and Maddie was sure that the girl looked embarrassed and was likely turning as red as her suit.

"Oh man, it's a looong story," Red sighed heavily. "Uh, best and easiest and quickest way I can explain it is; a lot of the things that made me angry with him was a misunderstanding, and I found out that he's...actually a really sweet guy. I know it's weird to say, but, um. Well, I've never met a guy who was so kind, thoughtful and romantic. My life's kinda hectic, and he just...he really goes out of his way to make it easier on me."

"How so?" Jack wondered.

"Well, like. He does a lot of my household chores and stuff like laundry, bringing me lunch when I have long shifts at work, listening to me when I have a bad day," she explained. "He makes life a lot easier and better."

How cute. If it wasn't between a dead teenage menace and this poor, obviously manipulated girl. It honestly reminded Maddie a lot of her own Danny and his little girlfriend, Valerie. Valerie told her a few times about Danny doing some of her chores at home since Valerie was so busy working and doing school. It kinda pissed Maddie off, since Danny never seemed to remember his own chores at home, but she never felt like bringing it up to him because, well, at least he was really good to her. She'd be ashamed of him if he was any lesser.

"Hey!" Phantom called out as he zoomed towards them. "Let's go! Quick!"

Red nodded. She passed Jack off to Phantom, and the two teenagers flew the Fentons home.

[fandomtrxsh19]

FINAL THOUGHTS ON FATE

I just finished Fate and.......... boy do I have thoughts about it. It wasn’t TERRIBLE, just meh. There were somethings I liked, somethings I didn’t like, and somethings I hated. This will contain SPOILERS.

Things I liked:

The sets. Some of the locations were really pretty such as the Greenhouse and outside of the school.

The performances of some of the cast were passable at best. Precious Mustapha’s Aisha and Danny Griffin’s Sky are among the standouts for me.

Bloom vs The Burned Ones: The transformation was a nice callout to the transformations of the original. The fire surrounding her and the fire wings were are really nice and cool touch.

Beatrix was an interesting villain to say the least. I like how she’s a bit of a mystery. I’ve noticed that she’s mostly like Darcy with some powers of Stormy.

The cast interactions: Watching behind the scenes videos and seeing their Instagrams, you can tell that the main girls are really close. You can tell in the Netflix interview that the cast really loved and cares for each other.

The music: I like how they used lesser known songs and others in the scenes, especially in the party scene.

The special effects: How they did the effects for the magic is pretty cool.

Things I didn’t like(strap in):

The Whitewashing: Of course this can’t be ignored or swept under the rug. The is a major issue on the directors and the creative team’s part. One of the things that makes the original so amazingly brilliant is in its diversity, having 3 of the main characters being WOC. This was and still is a bit step in representation on every shows. Winx Club is one of the first shows that I’ve seen where half of the main characters and lots of other characters didn’t look like me, and I LOVED that. The way they casted a white woman in the roles of both Musa and Flora is extremely shocking l and disappointing. Both Elisha and Elliot definitely tried their best with these characters, but this is still a huge issue. Netflix and the creators KNEW about this. The only reason why Flora’s name got changed to Terra is because of the backlash and the fandom calling them out on their bullshit. The way that Aisha’s role has been changed to a stereotype is simply disappointing but not surprising

The Characters: Not going to lie, lots of characters have been messed with and changed in many ways, none are really on a positive way. Bloom is extremely clueless and annoying. She only thinks of herself and whenever she’s on screen, it’s always like she’s internally saying “Everything’s about me. Let’s focus on me.” It just left a bad taste in my mouth. Stella’s just a bitch in this version. She just goes along acting like she’s above it all. This Stella acts like she doesn’t care about the rest of the girls and it’s really infuriating. She just insults these girls that are supposed to be her friends. She just fills the cliche of “ the bitchy blonde” and thanks, I hate it.

The Writing: Where do I start with this? It isn’t later seasons Riverdale bad, but, it’s still terrible. It’s like the writers haven’t even seen or heard of the source material. Just, the lines must’ve felt so awkward for the actors to say. The actors defientley tied their best with what they were given, but that didn’t really make it better in my opinion. They get old fast, especially the way how Bloom kept on saying “mansplaning” whenever she was taking to Sky was just so cringy. They referenced Harry Potter, Earth culture, and movies so many times and I didn’t like it. In the original, the Specilists, Winx, and Trix don’t know a lot about earth culture such as social media, and Harry Potter. I think this helps separate Earth with Magix. The Netflix adaptation decided to yeet that out the window and was like “Lets make this world like our own.” Part of the charm of the original is the even fusion between futuristic and fantasy aesthetics. Guess, they messed up....wow

The fashion: This is obvious. There’s no transformations, no cute and iconic outfits, just clothes that make the cast look bulky. The cast literally look like soccer moms omg. Stella? Wearing black? I don’t know her. Bloom? Wearing red? I don’t know her. Bloom is only shown wearing red ONCE. The whole reason why she mainly wears blue is to contrast her red head, and fire powers. Stella is APPALED, good sir, HOW DARE YOU!!

The character erasures: There’s no Winx Club without Tecna. Our tecnomagic icon is one of the pillars of the group. She makes sure descisons are thought through logically and comes up with amazing plans. Her powers are extremely powerful and useful in lots of situations. Also, the lack of Helia, Brandon, and Timmy disappointed me. Those guys are amazing characters and Brandon has an amazing personality and character growth that he goes through. Smh Netflix

The pace: The way scenes and storylines would progress was just awkward. The show starts off with Bloom at Alfea, then meeting Sky and I was just like......”What?” Scenes that are more “down to earth” and “chill went by kinda quickly to get to the “darker” and “edgier” scenes. It just weird and boring sometimes

Miscellaneous: The biphobia in Riven’s character and the fat phobia in the first 20 minutes. Seeing Elliot’s character constantly being bullied, not only broke my heart, but left a really bad taste in my mouth.

Now, these are just my opinions and scratch the surface of my feelings about this. As an adaptation of a preexisting property, I give it a 4/10 and as an independent show, I give it a 5/10. There were some good points and character growth, like the whole thing with Stella and her mom, but it was mostly disappointing.

According to Ignio, he and Brian Young think that animation is only for kids. He has literally said in an interview that this is “for the older fans who grew up with Winx” and “ They would like the darker and edgier version.” This makes me mad since I prefer animation to live action. These showrunners, creators, etc are in the wrong here. There are still lots of other cartoons that have a bright and colorful aesthetic and tell dark stories(I.e Madoka Magica). We don’t want another Vampire Diaries or Riverdale. We’ve already seen enough teens shows that are dark and edgy. What we need/want is a show that tells a story and honors the source material in an appropriate and special way. What we wanted and needed is a Winx Club adaptation that respects the source material, and keeps its fun, bright, and colorful aesthetic. Not, whatever Netwinx gave us. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go rewatch the Nick/4kids/Cinelume dubs and WoW so I can cleanse my palette from what I just watched.

PSA: PLEASE don’t bully or harass any of the actors. They clearly tried their best with what they were given. It isn’t their fault at all.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 8-13 thoughts! again, under the cut bc I blew through 6 episodes in one go...

-LOVE THE WAY THE GHOST ZONE LOOKS. but theres fucking ghost cops??? ghost jail??? that SUCKS imagine dying and going to jail in your AFTERLIFE. danny going to JAIL WAS NOT something I expected. but seeing all the enemies together and work with danny to bust out. SO ICONIC I love that actually. and the thing about real world stuff acting as ghosts in the ghost zone is very cool.

-'there are some things more important that hunting ghosts!' mrs fenton says, about her husband forgetting their anaversary (FOR THE 18TH YEAR IN A ROW?? CHRIST) and not about, idk, their son clearly freaked out. she didnt even notice he was gone into the ghost zone!!! he might be a bad husband BUT shes not the best mom. they suck and I don't care about their relationship problems I care about these kids. danny doing his best to clean the house to keep his mom from getting mad at his dad?? hes such a good boy I want to cry, this is not his place, his dad should be cleaning his own shit up!!!

-maddie's butch lesbian sister is living my best life in her lil cabin. also being a snarky bitch to jack. queen. and her getting a 10th anniversary of her divorce. LOVE IT.

-mr. lancer being a cheerleader in his younger years makes perfect sense to me. king shit.

-dr. spectra's cat ears/mullet hairstyle?? sooo cute. I also just love the concept of a ghost just. sucking out people's positivity and feeding on emotions. a great villain. she put danny in a fucking diaper what the FUCK. and keeping it cold so no one would suspect shes a ghost??? INCREDIBLE. and her gay little blob sidekick. wlw mlm evil solidarity.

-JAZZ FOCUSED EP. YEAAAH!!! her first thought when she saw the ghosts was like 'omg i gotta tell danny :)' and her going to the teacher and also councilor trying to get help for him...shes just 16 but shes trying so hard to help him out :( watching this when youre younger I can imagine ppl are like omg annoying!! but watching this when im older im just like :( jazz baby im SO sorry </3 SHE BODIED THAT GHOST THOUGH. and the fact she didnt tell danny she knew surprised me. like, shes patient and waiting on him to tell her when hes ready!! thats so so sweet.

-christ the parents talking about 'PEELING IT LIKE AN ONION. AND EXAMINING REMAINS' of ghosts RIGHT INFRONT OF DANNY.

-'why am i so depressed and angry all the time!!' DANNY YOURE 14. i mean it IS a ghost this time, but...

-579$ top?? VALERIE NO ITS NOT EVEN CUTE IT DOESNT EVEN GO WITH THAT OUTFIT AAAA. tho this ep is called shades of gray..VALERIE FOCUSED EP FINALLY????! *THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE* I already knew about red huntress from my redesigns, but I didn't exactly know what that entails or how/why, so, it's fun to see the Origins.

-ghost pubby! ghost pubby!!!!! why is the dog a ghost?? the implication that the company had guard dogs and got rid of them...what did they DO. is it just the unfinished business?? of not having that toy it was looking for?? god I hope so.

I feel SOOO bad for valerie tho, my god. her friends are shunning her for what, because her dad lost her job and she had to move??? horrible. (and the fact the dog wrecked the moving van too...) I also love how 'from wisconsin' on the package was an IMMEDIATE RED FLAG FOR ME. WISCONSIN=EVIL NOW. vlads so petty.

-it took valerie like 5 mins to get the hang of hunting ghosts and shes already a much bigger threat than his parents tbh. who've been trying and studying this for years. and a more valid reason <3 love her shes so cute and cool. new daughter alert.

-'i should do SOMETHING to help valerie' no shit danny???

-'who is that, awesome outfit!' -top gay sam moments. i was going to say. before it immediately cuts to sam kissing danny LMFAOOO. don't think I like that, it puts tucker in a weird third wheel position... the next ep involves them holding hands and blushing when danny's cold...URGH No. not a fan ngl. the trope of 'if theres a girl in a trio she has to end up with one of the two guys!!'

-right as I say that they take it to extremes!! and ember shoots him with a love ray gun that makes him OBSESSIVE OVER SAM. AND SHE TAKES HIS HANDS AND SAYS 'YOU DONT FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT ME, I DONT FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT YOU' and her saying she doesnt want to be together like this. and tucker saying 'i always knew you two would get together!!' dont manifest it tucker please. the show pushing for it so hard makes me not want it KSHKJKJD I KNOW its probably canon. it sucks though. im a hater.

-vlad just LURKING AROUND THE SCHOOL GIVING VALERIE GIFTS ASJKDHKJ YOU WEIRD PETTY OLD MAN GO HOME!!!

-EMBERRRRR YOU WILL REMEMBERRRRRR . this is the one thing I kinda remember from when I was a kid EMBERRRRR ilu. top 10 cartoon bops. sams being a hater. popular things are popular for a reason. mr. lancer also being a hater. also everyone wearing her color scheme ..its a really good look, the purple, black, and minty color...

-penguins exist in the ghost zone. confirmed.

-EMBER JUST SHOWING UP AT A RANDOM HIGHSCHOOL TO PLAY?? UNANNOUNCED, MID DAY??? girl get a tour schedule. make some money or smth damn. I know shes probably doing it for the power boost but. lord. anyway if your show doesnt have a concert scene/ep, is it even valid.

-fellas is this gay. (she uses a GRAPPLING HOOK TO SHOOT OUT THE WINDOW AFTER SEEING AN EMBER VAN GO BY RIGHT AFTER THIS SHOT)

-hey, she had an undercut at some point!! my redesign!!! was accurate!! in..a way

-I feel like danny has a lot of pent up aggression ngl, him being heartbroken about sam and immediately going IM GONNA GO TAKE IT OUT ON EMBER. I mean she needs to be stopped I guess But. jazz has the right idea he needs therapy and a HEALTHY outlet.

-tucker singing > my singing

-girls cant be gamers -tucker and danny sexist moments. her being chaos in the game OWNED.

-TUCKERS HAT IS A BERET??? I THOUGHT IT WAS A BEANIE. SAM CALLED IT A BERET. WH.

-it was actually nice of lancer to let danny retake the test, and he go to play games again. smh. epic cringe gamer moments compilation. and driving him home!!! I actually like him as a character. anyway teachers like lancer are SO appreciated. I was failing middle school because of mental problems, and felt so dumb and got embarrassed by teachers who would just get onto me instead of bothering to ask what the real problem was, but when I was taking my ged classes I had a wonderful teacher who kept reassuring me that I was smart, and I got honors!! danny is SUCH a little shit to him (understandable, 14, but) but seeing them getting along better and danny putting in effort. SO CUTE. THATS MY SON, STUDYING HARD!!!! and being so PROUD OF HIMSELF!!! 91!!! BITCH!!! A- is STILL AN A!!!

-'why dont they ever realize thats me in a dress' mr lancer i am CRYING. i realized.

-technus being my ghost grandpa who cant game asking tucker for help. bless his heart. his out of date old ppl lingo circles back to being endearing <3 tucker not recognizing him despite the like, lack of any kind of serious disguise...I do love their lil in-game outfits....sam being the tank rules. I like technus' spider design also. more characters need to be giant freaky spiders, imo.

-finding your gf a new host because she cant maintain her ghost body outside the zone? amazing. using jazz as the host? ILL KILL YOU. jazz immediately accepting a ride home from a guy she just met and letting him know where she lives. letting him IN THE HOUSE??? nooo girl no lets use common sense </3

-sooo cringe the parents were like 'good job for spying on your sister' tho wtffff. doesnt matter if hes a bad guy, thats fucked. everytime these parents BREATHE im like. these are MY kids now <3

-BAD LUCK BEING A THEME OF THE 13TH EPISODE. thats super fun. johnny 13 being his name is so. iconic. your last name is a NUMBER? also goth tucker. I actually love the look. everyone looks good goth. 'the ladies love the eyeliner and onyx nail polish' sam you are sooo right every man needs to at least try those two things. im a lesbian and I agree. same, danny, your bff is gnc af

-LOVE kitty's design. and just, the concept of a ghost with a bike. couple goals, except yes stay away from jazz.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter four | a new record

“So the three of them are the ones without any solid footing here before hand,” Marsha remarked.

“Yeah, we're the new comers,” Aurora told her.

It had been a couple of hours since she and Sam had mingled into the fold with the band and with their manager, Jon, or Jonny Z as they all referred to him. A heavier gentleman with a thick scraggly black beard and horn rimmed glasses wrapped in a shabby tweed jacket; his wife Marsha looked like the type of woman Sam would see in the neighborhoods back home in Carson City with her feathery hair and big warm smile.

The two of them had whisked Sam and Aurora to the back room with all of them as if they were their long lost family. They posted up on the other side of the room nestled in between Frank and Charlie, the latter of whom put his feet up on a little footstool so Sam could have a better look of his thighs and his knees. The black fabric comprising of his jeans hugged his legs to accentuate their shape. Joey and Scott were across the room from them with empty plates rested upon their laps.

Dan breezed into the room right then with a cup of what looked like fruit punch in one hand: the bright red color appeared even more red with the fluorescent lights overhead.

“Got a li'l drinkie of sorts?” Aurora called to him.

“Oh, no, it's just punch,” he said with a smirk on his face, “it's too early for that.”

“It's gotta be a certain kinda day for that anyway,” said Charlie as he crossed his legs and set a hand on his right knee.

“Yeah, it's—it's not the kind of day for that,” Scott cracked with a raise of those thick eyebrows.

“That's not to say I don't have a flask with me, though,” Dan pointed out with a wag of his finger.

“So what's Marsha gonna make for us?” Sam asked them.

“She's got some pancakes on deck,” Frank told her, “that's as far as I know, anyway. Jon might know more than us, though.”

She looked over at Charlie right as he ran his hand up and down the inside of his thigh. She knew they hadn't been a band for very long, and yet his thighs looked tight and sinewy from playing drums, and she wondered how long he had been playing drums prior to then. Sam followed the inseam of his jeans towards the crotch, and then back down to his ankle. To think he had been thumping away earlier with those faded white sneakers: she took a second look to see the soles had worn and waned with overuse and scuffing on the ground. She eyed the shape of his right ankle and she wondered what it actually looked like underneath his white sock.

Jon emerged in the doorway with a glass of orange juice in hand and a beaming smile on his face.

“It's almost ready, gentlemen—ladies,” he nodded at Sam and Aurora. “Marsha had to bring in a second hot plate because she wanted to make more stuff for the bunch of us.”

“Got some O.J. in there, too, I see,” Aurora remarked as she stood to her feet.

“Plenty of that on the table, my dear. We forgot the coffee so just juice this morning.” Aurora and Frank followed Jon out of the room, and Dan took a seat on the right side of the room.

“You want a glass of something?” Charlie offered Sam in a low voice.

“I was actually wanting a cup of coffee,” she confessed with a shrug. “I gotta be in the right mood for juice, you know?”

“Yeah, me, too,” he said with a wrinkle of his button nose and a nod of his head: she never noticed the little cleft in his chin before until then. There was something catlike in particular about him, like he could stroke about the floor on his toes even after pounding away on those drums in the next room for their new record. His fingers were long and lanky, and even with a bit of callus on his index and middle fingers from holding onto drum sticks, they had an almost delicate look to them.

“You and I should run down the block and get ourselves a cup,” he suggested as he ran his fingers through his bangs: Sam then could see into his beady dark eyes.

“Just you and me?” she asked him.

“Yeah. There's a little coffee house right down the block from here—” He gestured behind him. “—and they make great coffee. Nice and rich and no nonsense, too.”

He then cleared his throat.

“So if you go to school here, you gotta show me around,” he said, “I never really felt the need to go to art school, but it's always been an interesting thing to think about, especially if you're a born artist like the both of us.”

“What about art school?” Dan interjected once he took a swig of punch.

“Li'l Sam I am here is taking art school into consideration,” Charlie explained.

“Oh, cool! I've thought of going to school myself, but for another reason.”

“And what would that be?” Sam asked.

“Engineering of some kind. I dunno—I like messing around with gadgets and things.”

“Danny's like the mad professor around here,” Scott explained.

“Or like MacGyver,” Joey added.

“Yeah, yeah! Like MacGyver!” Scott's face lit up at that. “His old band—our friends Overkill, based out of New Jersey—all have makeshift amps crafted out from like household materials all because of him. And in fact, the amp he's got right now is made of an old household iron and the wiring from an old television set.”

“How'd you manage that?” Sam asked Dan with a bit of a chuckle.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he pointed out with a wag of his finger and yet another swig of punch. Sam then returned to Charlie, who flashed her a wink. Within seconds, that warm aroma of pancakes floated into the room. Fresh made pancakes with lots of syrup and a bit of butter, followed by a little Asian lady with a beaming smile upon her lovely face.

“Oh, my God, that smells so good,” Aurora remarked as she rested her free hand on her stomach.

“Tell us about it!” Scott proclaimed as he clambered to his feet. Charlie and Sam followed him and Joey out into the next room for a plate of breakfast. Marsha had done the works for them with the pancakes, all light and fluffy even from a momentary glance there in the doorway, and she also whipped up some eggs and bacon.

“Alright, kids, there's not a lot of eggs and bacon here so if you'd like some, take it easy on it,” she said in a single breath. “Who wants some?”

“I’ll take an egg,” said Scott as he lifted his plate towards her. Meanwhile, the three of them took stacks of pancakes: Sam wondered if there were any blueberries or raspberries on hand to accompany her cakes, but all Marsha had with her at the moment was a rather large bottle of maple syrup twice the size of Charlie’s head.

Once they were all snuggled back into the room, Frank turned to Sam and Aurora.

“So—I think we can talk about it a little bit.”

“Talk about what?” Charlie asked him, puzzled.

“You know,” said Frank as he picked up a bite of buttered pancakes.

“If you're happy and you know it, eat it down,” Scott chanted in a singsong voice, to which Joey gulped down a rather large bite of pancake. Aurora picked up a bite for herself.

“Oh, that!” Charlie declared. Then his expression turned serious. “I thought Jonny doesn’t want us to.”

“I was just talking to him,” Frank explained with a gesture towards the doorway, “he told us we could share as long as these two girlies here vow to keep their lips sealed.”

“I vow to,” said Sam, complete with a raise of her hand as if taking an oath.

“Yeah, me, too—“ Aurora reached over to give her a high five. They locked fingers and shook hands as if to seal the deal.

“Okay.” Frank and Charlie looked at one another with knowing glances.

“The record is called Spreading the Disease,” the latter said to them in a low voice. “It's actually our second one.”

“Our first one was Fistful of Metal, which was with our old singer Neil,” Frank added.

“What happened with him?” asked Aurora.

“We let him go,” Scott explained once he swallowed down his bite of pancakes. “He fired our original bassist—Danny Lilker, the guy before Frankie, and one of my best friends—without telling me and Charlie about it before hand.”

“Wow, what the hell,” Sam declared.

“Yeah! That was my reaction, too. So Charlie and I were like 'Neil, you gotta go, man. That was—that was just shitty, dude.' So we got Frankie and then a guy named Matt Fallon, but he couldn't tour with us.”

“And then I came along!” Joey decreed with a grin on his face.

“And then along came a spider by the name of Joey Belladonna,” Frank joked as he took another bite of pancakes.

“Why did Neil even fire Danny anyways?” Aurora asked Scott, to which he looked across the room at Charlie with a puzzled look on his face.

“I don't actually remember,” Scott confessed. “Do you remember, Charlie?”

“Something like... Danny being too tall in comparison to him, or something like that?” Charlie replied with a shake of his head, and that brought a laugh out of both Sam and Aurora.

“Danny was too tall and kinda flaky, too,” Scott reluctantly said. “Like he had that whole belief of grandeur that some people get when they set out to do something creative. That whole thing where you want to make something but work ethic is not your strong point.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Sam nodded her head.

“I guess Neil just kinda ran out of patience with him,” Charlie continued with a shrug of his shoulders.

“And then we got rid of Neil as kind of a retaliation of sorts,” Scott said in a soft voice. “'Cause—you know—”

“Danny was your best friend,” Sam recalled, and his face fell.

“He came up with our name, too,” he continued, “we were walking home from school one day, and he told me, 'I learned about a disease called anthrax today in biology class.' And he explained it a little, how the spores remain dormant in soil for centuries and causes extreme respiratory failure. I told him it just sounds evil, like the perfect name for a metal band.”

“He wrote most of the music for a lot of songs for us, too,” Charlie added, “like there's a couple of songs on this new record that are courtesy of him. The poor dude was lazy but a badass song writer.”

“What happened to him?” asked Aurora.

“Who, Danny?” Charlie asked her.

“Yeah.”

“He formed a band of his own called Nuclear Assault. They jam here after we do—I think they're coming over here in a little while.”

“What about Neil?” Sam followed up.

“No clue,” Scott admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “We let him go and then he fell off the face of the earth.”

“Anyways, this new record,” Charlie pressed on, “—Spreading the Disease—we're aiming for it to be released come October. Which means Joey has to lay down the last bit of vocals in the next couple of days so we can polish it up and make it all nice and good and... good and nice.”

“Wrap it all up with a little bow on top,” Aurora cracked.

“Exactly!” That brought a chuckle out of Frank.

Within time, they finished their stacks of pancakes, albeit with Joey going back for seconds. Sam watched him walk towards the doorway with the plate and the fork down by his hip: he was slender, such that his waist was so very thin and sparse that she could see his hip bones underneath the dark denim waist of his jeans. And there he was, heading back for seconds. She wondered if he could fit thirds in that flat stomach of his.

And he returned with a small stack of five, complete with a lot of butter and a dollop of syrup.

“My goodness,” she remarked to him.

“They're good pancakes, aren't they, Joe?” Dan asked as he brought the glass back up to his lips for one final swig of punch.

“They're spectacular!” he declared in that strong, odd upstate accent.

“How many is that now?” Scott asked him.

“Ten. Well, I'm real hungry, too.”

“Think I'll have more, too,” Frank muttered as he stood to his feet to fetch more.

Sam turned her head to Charlie once more: he mopped up some of the syrup with his final bite of pancake.

“You wanna get some coffee?” he offered her in a low voice. “Get some coffee and then bounce back here?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the rest of them. “You guys want some coffee?”

“I'd like a cuppa Joey,” Joey declared with a straight face.

“A cuppa Joey!” Aurora giggled at that.

“I'm good, thank you,” said Scott with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, me, too,” Dan chimed in.

“Okay—” Charlie said with his mouth full; and he gestured for Sam to follow him out of there. She picked up her purse and they passed Marsha and Frank at the hot plates; Jon had disappeared off somewhere, but the two of them were fixated on heading outside. Charlie adjusted the lapels on his jacket and then he held the door open for her. Sam bowed her head and pinched her eyes shut for a second against the biting cold. He ran his hands down the front of his jacket and then the pockets of his jeans.

“Got money?” she asked him.

“Yeah—although I think I might need a little help, though.”

“We'll play it by ear,” she suggested as she clutched onto the strap of her purse.

“Alright, c'mon, Sam—” Charlie coaxed her. She followed close behind him as they walked side by side to the coffee house in question. Since he stood at a much greater height than her, his legs were much longer, and thus, he walked ahead of her and she had to chase after him at one point. It was tricky given all the food she had eaten before then, and thus he lingered back a bit for her to catch up with him.

“You with me?” he called back to her.

“Yeah, I’m just...”

He then slowed to a near stop for her to walk parallel to him, which brought a smile out of her. The cold New York winds billowed back a few extra curled tendrils of his hair from the side of his head all the while.

“You guys are literally not what I expected to come out of New York City,” she confessed over the noise of the street next to them.

“What, 'cause of the whole trope about New Yorkers being rude?” he asked her; he slowed up a bit so she could catch up to him once again.

“If I'm honest,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Eh, I think it's because most people—and by most people, I mean the people from around your neck of the woods—aren't so used to bluntness. That’s the one way I could describe New York is people here are blunt, like honest about things. We give no fucks, for lack of a better word.”

“You don't care about other people's opinions of you,” she concluded as they reached a crosswalk.

“Exactly! We care enough that it loops back around to uncaring.” The light turned green and Charlie led her across the black pavement to the quaint coffee house on the corner up ahead there. Next door, she spotted a shop with a sign consisted of a paint brush and a palette.

“Hey, there's an art shop here, too!” she declared.

“There sure is! It's kinda expensive, though.”

Once again, Charlie held the door for her and she padded into the cozy, warm coffee house. To her left was a nook surrounded by a warm mural of the New York City skyline, which in turn melded into the Philadelphia, Chicago, and New Orleans skylines; underneath the mural stood a series of little black tables. She was inclined to snag the table closest to the bay window but she remembered they were headed on back to the rehearsal space afterwards, so she shelved the thought.

“What would you like?” Charlie asked her, and she looked on at the chalk boards up on the brick wall behind the cashier.

“Oh, my. Uh, chai latte?”

“Good choice! I think I'll have that, too. We'll get Mr. Bellardini an espresso.”

“Mister who?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Bellardini,” he repeated. “Joey's real last name is Bellardini—Belladonna is like a warping of it, and also because it sounds ferocious.”

“Belladonna, like... deadly night shade.” She grinned at him at the sound of that.

“Exactly!” Charlie took out his wallet and paid for their drinks. They congregated at the end of the counter in anticipation; he huddled closer to her with his hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“Are you cold?” she asked him.

“A little bit, yeah,” he confessed. “Lived here my whole life and there are times where I can't stand how cold it gets sometimes.”

“Well, at least here back East, you've got actual defined seasons,” she pointed out. “This time of year back in the Golden State, it can either be sunny or foggy and—unless you're up in the mountains, like in Yosemite or where I'm from originally, Lake Elsinore, there's not a single flake of snow to be found anywhere. If I'm honest, it gets a little obnoxious by the time March rolls around.”

“And what about northern Nevada?”

“Nevada, we can get a foot of snow one day and then the very next day, it'll be sunny and up in the nineties. Crazy.”

“Wow.” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“I remember a couple of years ago, we got a good sized snowstorm in the middle of May. And the snowflakes were huge, Charlie—they were like the size of dinner plates. And I remember they floated down from the sky and made these soft little noises when they landed on the ground. It was almost surreal.”

“There won't be any of that here,” the barista behind the counter told her with a stunned look on his face.

“Uh, yeah, I was just gonna say—we've got snowflakes of reasonable size here,” Charlie added with a chuckle. “Here and upstate, too, in case you wanna go up there to see where Joey's from.”

“Maybe at some point, I'll wanna take a trip there,” she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders. The barista set the first two cups of chai latte on the counter before them.

“And the espresso's comin' right now—”

And he brought the little parchment cup of espresso to the counter, to which Charlie and Sam both thanked him in unison. He held both his and Joey's coffee in both hands as she pushed the door open for him. They made their way out to the street, where he turned to look back at the art shop. Sam took a sip of her latte—such bliss! Warm and spicy for such a blustery day as that.

He then returned to her with a thoughtful look on his round face.

“You wanna get some nicer drawing paper?” he offered her as she blew on the little gap in the lid to cool off the coffee some.

“Well—I guess I could use some...” she confessed with a shrug. “I got that one drawing pad back at my place, but it’s not too much, though. Why, you got enough left on you?”

“Yeah, c’mon, I’ll get you a thing of paper...” Charlie gestured for her to follow him into the art shop next door. Once again, she held the door for him and they stepped into the bright lit front room, which was stacked to the brim with paints, pencils, palettes, canvases, both of the stretched and plain untreated type; art and crafts kits, art supplies for kids, art supplies for adults, little knick knacks, and pieces of styrofoam. Past the front stood four aisles: the first of which had pads of paper for watercolor, drawing, cartooning, acrylics, and pastels, as well as bottles of paint, bottles of ink, ink pens, markers, and pencil kits.

Charlie set his cup of coffee down on a blank spot on the shelf so he could pick out a little black leather bound journal on the shelf before him. He opened to the first page and he ran his fingers down the surface of the paper.

“I'll get one for myself, too,” he told her, “this one's cheap-o and feels really good, like it can hold pencil and ink really well.”

She knelt down before the shelves with the journals for one herself. There was a hard cover black one near the floor that caught her eye because the pages were perforated. She picked it up and did the same thing as he did, and touched the first page herself. The paper was smooth, almost silken, to the touch. She pictured herself drawing with those black ink pens over her head in this journal.

Indeed, she took a set of those black ink pens off of the rack and examined them for herself. There was seven of them inside, ranging from the slimmest of measurements to one that resembled a paint brush.

“I'll pay for these books,” Charlie announced.

“And I'll get these pens for myself,” she said as she offered to hold onto his cup of coffee with her free hand; she tucked the pens into her other hand so they were pressed against her cup and thus, no chance of escape.

“I got plenty of those at home,” he added with a wag of his finger, and then he picked up his cup from the shelf again.

Once they had paid for their new art supplies, they returned outside to the street and doubled back to the rehearsal space. All the while, Sam took a sip from her cup of latte. Even though she blew on it to cool it down a bit, everything about it was perfect. The perfect balance of spice and cream, the perfect temperature, everything: she relished in it all the way back to the building, just in time for the sun to emerge from behind the cold gray clouds blanketing the sky.

“So are you guys gonna be alright?” she asked Charlie.

“Oh yeah! Why, you leavin' us already?”

“My parents are gonna swing by my place soon. We're gonna do more stuff together.”

“Oh, I see! Well—you know where to find us. And you know where to find me and Frankie, too.”

“Where does Scott and Dan live?”

“Scott lives up the street from here with his girlfriend—I forget where Danny lives. He could probably tell you if you ask him...” His voice trailed off as Joey's black curls emerged in the doorway.

“Is this for me?” he asked Charlie with a lopsided smile on his face; Charlie handed him his cup of espresso, complete with the plastic bag holding his new journal dangling off of his wrist.

“A cuppa Joey,” he said in a singsong voice. Sam skirted past them to meet up with Aurora again, and she spotted another series of posters on the wall, albeit a series that she had missed before. There was that band Legacy again, and that time she took a closer look to them. Another quintet and yet nothing about them caught her eye, and thus she looked past them at the promotional picture of the band behind her.

Anthrax, they called themselves. They were congregated inside of what looked like an old abandoned warehouse somewhere: on the left stood Dan with his feathery crown of dark hair and his black flying V guitar down by his waist; next to him was Frank, whose hair obscured his eyes in shadow, and a big ivory white bass guitar; next to him stood Joey with a sweet little smile on his face and the same black leather jacket he wore that morning; followed by Charlie with his body turned to the side, and last but not least on the far right stood Scott in ripped faded jeans, those big black boots, and a pure white flying V guitar, which he held out before his body.

She almost wanted to laugh at them because the jovial expressions on their faces clashed with their darkness and that loud song they played for her. But she took another sip of coffee instead, and that was when she spotted Aurora at the end of the corridor with a clipboard in hand.

“There you are,” Sam called out to her as she made her way closer to her.

“Here I am,” Aurora replied with a smirk on her face. “What's up with you? What'cha got?”

“So I'm thinking maybe I can definitely go to art school here,” she started, “I got myself a new drawing journal and some black ink with me. I can probably do a challenge for myself.”

“You should do it all!” Aurora insisted. “Just live and let live here in New York. You're an artist in the Big Apple after all.”

“Ha, I just got an idea.” Sam snapped her fingers.

“What's that?”

“Because I'm a little shaky on human anatomy, I could get one of the guys here to pose for me, but—I don't really know, though. It sounds like their schedule's gonna get pretty hectic here pretty soon.”

“Well, if you go to school later this year,” Aurora pointed out, “then maybe you can do something with that idea of yours. You know, if their record comes out in October, we could do something at the release party. Maybe you can get Joey to pose for you.”

“Why Joey of all of them?” She was taken aback by that.

“He's the exotic one and—have you seen how he looks at you?” Aurora had a twinkle in her eye upon saying that, to which Sam rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please.”

“C'mon, Sam—when we were in the room earlier, he was totally checking you out when you were walking out with Charlie to get yourself a drink. I watched him do it. I watched his eyes caress over you like he was watching a stripper.”

“He just seems friendly, though,” Sam insisted. “I mean, surely, there's a difference between the two.”

“Between being friendly and being flirty?” Aurora asked her with a befuddled look on her face.

“Yeah. Like there's gotta be something to differentiate the two.”

“When you see him again tomorrow, you should try and flirt with him a little bit. See if he bats a lash at all. I tried flirting with a guy like him back home in San Diego and I kinda learned the hard way.”

She then peered behind her to make sure they were out of earshot from Frank and Charlie.

“Have you—” Aurora stopped in her tracks, and she dropped her gaze to Sam's waist.

“Have I what?”

“You know.”

“No, I don't.”

“You know—” She gestured down.

“Oh, you mean—touch myself?” Sam asked in a low voice.

“Yeah.” Aurora raised her eyebrows at that so Sam could see the twinkle in her eye.

“I have, yeah.”

“Well, if you've done that, then this should be a breeze for you.”

“How so?”

“If you've touched your own lips, then you have the confidence to flirt with that little brown boy.”

Sam swallowed out of nervousness. The last time she really touched herself seemed so long ago, even though she had done it before. It was such a strange distant memory to her, and she knew of the feeling. If her memory rang true, it was that she had no recollection of even enjoying it. Her fingers had wandered their way to her lips and it felt as though she had been shocked. It made her a bit squeamish to even so much as think about. But Aurora had a point, and it was something to consider on the subway ride home.

“By the way, is it okay if I could get your phone number?” Sam offered. “My phone's not hooked up yet, but I feel like if I'm gonna be hangin' out with these boys here, and you're working for them, we're gonna run into each other often.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! I just barely got my phone hooked up, so it's a brand new number. Add to that, we're both California girls, too. If we're gonna survive out here, we've gotta stick together. Here—let me see if I can find a blank piece of paper... ah, here we go!”

Aurora took her pen and scribbled down her number on the bottom of a blank sheet of paper at the base of the clipboard. Careful not to tear it too much, she separated it from the rest of the paper and handed it to Sam. She pocketed the number and caught her new journal before it could fall to the floor at the same time.

“Alright! Thank you so much, Aurora,” she said with a smile. “By the way, where do you live again?”

“I live way over in the Bronx. Charlie, Frankie, and I took the subway here together.”

“Long way back. I'd drive ya but—” She held up the clipboard.

“I'll leave you to it,” she said one last time. Sam thanked Marsha for breakfast and the boys had retreated back into the room to tend to the remainder of their new record. She left the building and returned to the subway terminal with stars in her eyes and her feet lighter than air. The move to New York City was a good choice!

She boarded the subway and headed on back to her apartment up in the Bronx, which gave her enough time to reminisce on Aurora's suggestion. She never saw Joey eyeing her so she had to take her word for it. And yet he seemed so standoffish, but not rude. He was definitely of the quiet breed.

It could have been from the fact he was new and by the sound of things, he had been brought into the fold with haste. He even said he was just trying to get to know the four of them as well as contribute to the new record. Maybe he was interested, or maybe he was just yearning for a cup of coffee because his face lit up at the sight of the espresso in Charlie's hand.

It was something she thought about on the long ride back up to the Bronx. She emerged from the subway just in time to finish her chai latte and before her parents arrived at her doorstep again.

She made her way back up to her room, where she was greeted by all that new furniture and a place to sit for the time being. She also kept thinking about Aurora's whole sentiment at the end there: “if you've touched your own lips, then you have the confidence to flirt with him.” She wondered what that even meant, especially when the only other time she did that, the feeling left her uneasy instead of aroused.

“What the hell am I going to say to him, though?” she muttered to herself. She looked down at the crotch of her jeans, and she recalled looking on at Charlie's pants, as well. It was in there: it needed coaxing out, surely.

Indeed, she began to picture the conversation between the two of them the next day, or whenever they saw each other again. He strolled into the room with that lopsided grin on his little round face, which made his brown eyes twinkle and glimmer as if made of diamond. He took a seat next to her on the couch.

“What's up?” he asked her.

“I wanted to ask you—” She swallowed a bit, to which she tilted her neck back.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, bemused.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I'm okay...” She gazed on at him with wide eyes. “I—I have kind of a pain in my neck, though,” was all she could sputter out.

“Oh, shit. You want me to get sump'n for ya?” Joey gestured to the room next to them.

“No, no, it's okay. But that's real sweet of you, though.” And yet her daydream of him right there never went any further than that. Maybe that was too much, even from a daydream. But all she saw of him was a man in black seated next to her on the couch and yet she had no idea what to do with him.

The last time she did touch herself was in fact a long time ago, too. Things had changed and she wasn't the unsettled teenager from before. She was alone, too: perhaps her parents weren't going to show up until at least another hour.

She undid her jeans and peeled back her panties.

If you've touched your own lips, you have the confidence to talk to him.

With a nibble on her bottom lip, she reached down for a feel. It was a little tricky from sitting on the couch, and so she swung her legs around and lay down on her back, and tried again. They were smooth and soft, like a pair of actual lips. Nothing too spectacular, but it was a new record for her. With every gentle touch from her index and middle fingers, she wondered why the whole thing left her feeling uneasy before. So she tried a lighter caress, courtesy of her index finger. That sent a chill up her spine, one so strong, she sat upright and took her hand out. The image of Joey next to her had vanished into the ether, as well.

She couldn’t feel it.

A knock on the door took her aback and she knew she would have to try it some more to get her head around it.

[madsmikkelsenschesthair]

Blood of the Dragon ch. 8

Summary: Freyja meets the Mad Grandfather and has a strange but prophetic dream.

A/n: yaaaallll I am so sooo sorry but our dear Danny won’t be in this story. I will be using her to make my aesthetics so technically y’all are kinda her? But not really her HER? Get it? No? Me neither! Enjoy! Remember to send me a message for comments, questions, and concerns. Like I said before, Keep it nice.

Warnings: insults, uncomfortable situations, mad Grandfather, one sad papa Rhaegar, fluff, cursing, violence, angst, a hint of death of character

“Look sister! That’s Dragonstone” Little Robb pointed excitedly towards the grey castle that nearly stood on the edge of a cliff. Freyja couldn’t believe it! She had never seen such a big castle in all her life. According to her books and her father, Dragonstone was where her family first settled when they fled Old Valyria. Hundreds of generations have lived in that very same castle and gave birth to new generations and now here she was! This was far too exciting! Freyja could only imagine how big and beautiful Kingslanding was. She couldn’t hardly contain herself her body was jittery and she was grinning from ear to ear until she could no longer feel her face. Little Robb coughed into his cloak breaking Freyja out of her daze, it had been getting chillier these past few weeks and her little brother seemed weaker than when she first met him. On the other hand, Fenrir was growing fast and strong and his puppy eagerness was gone replaced by the adulthood overcoming him. He was ever so faithful as well always by her side, 

Freyja took off her own cloak, red with black fur trim and gold dragons, and put it around his shoulders. “Go back to your chambers,” she told him, “I think we will be there in an hour or so. Stay warm” The cold wind brushed against her cheeks reminding her to do the same, Freyja was far too excited to go back to her own chambers though. Today she will meet her Grandfather Aerys. Her father had not told her much about him or his other brother and she wondered why. Anytime Freyja asked about them the conversation was immediately changed to another topic or her parents would ask her about her day. Freyja kept a mental note of that for later. 

Little Robb stopped midway to the stairs that lead below deck and stared at her, “Are you coming? You’ll get sick too” Freyja kept her eyes on Dragonstone, she could feel magic swarming in her blood as they grew closer. This would be their first and last stop before they left for Kingslanding. She looked down to her wolf, “Come on, Fen” and the pair followed her little brother below deck.

After sailing for so many weeks, the Targaryen fleet stopped and the family got back on the little boats and sailed to the shore. Freyja had no problem stepping off the boat and getting her boots and dress a little wet but her family looked to be in anguish to have their fine clothes soiled. She was used to it after so many years of fishing with her boys. Looking at it now, Dragonstone castle was bigger that it loomed over them. The closer they walked to the entrance the more nervous she got. Freyja saw a group of people waiting for them at the top of the grey steps all of them wearing dark clothes. Her hand closed around the Thor’s Mjolnir on her neck homesickness tightening her stomach. She followed her father and his guards close behind enclosing them, protecting them. The leader of the group that was waiting for them was a short man, an imp, with curly dark hair and a beard and he smiled at her.

“Welcome home Your Grace!” he said his smile growing wider. 

Her King Father’s face broke into a grin, “Lord Tyrion, such a pleasant surprise we thought you would be back in Kingslanding”

“There is no ‘we’ my love” Cersei intervened, her voice cold, “what are you doing here? You should be helping father at the Red Keep”

Freyja was surprised by how much malice there was in her voice towards the little man but he didn’t seem so phased, he only smiled sweetly at her.

“Good to see you too, sweet sister,” Lord Tyrion answered, “but I couldn’t wait to see my new niece” Freyja smiled shyly at her new uncle and she stepped forward. “Look at you!” he gushed “Pure Valyrian beauty! You look just like your father, Princess Y/n” He took her hand and gingerly placed a kiss on top.

She flinched at her new name and her smile almost disappeared but Freyja managed to compose herself after all Tyrion seemed like such a kind man, “Thank you, Uncle Tyrion. It is very nice to meet you and I can’t wait to meet my grandfather”

The grownups gave each other wary looks. Even Uncle Tyrion’s smile faded, “Speaking of,” he turned to Rhaegar, “Your father wishes to speak to you, Your Grace even you Cersei. In the meantime, I will help the children settle and get to know my new niece”

Her parents wasted no time and hurried up the steps with Uncle Jaime and a group of knights following. Freyja watched them, dumbfounded. What were they hiding from her? Why did everyone grow quiet when her grandfather was mentioned? She would have to ask her Uncle these questions.

The interior of Dragonstone was as breathtaking as it was outside. The was seemed to be made of some rare dark stone, the torches on the wall gave it a hint of red golden streaks. That wasn’t all; carvings, drawings, and statues of dragons stood on almost every corner and wall. It truly lived up to its’ name. It was also surprisingly warm, so warm that Freyja took off her cloak. 

“I can’t believe I’m really here,” she said smiling her eyes still wandering up and down the walls and ceiling. “The home of my ancestors” 

Tyrion watched her facial expressions, how happy she looked and even the sparkle in her eyes. And there was something else but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. All he knew was that he was glad the rightful heir to the throne was home Even with her Valyrian looks, Y/n looked Viking or at least a small one in the making. Still, she carried the heavy and dreadful burden of homesickness. Tyrion could see it. 

A woman came in making Freyja lookup. She had on a plain grey dress along with the same colored wimp on her head covering her hair. Little Rob instantly lit up when he saw her. “Ah, dear Septa please take my nephew to his room,” Tyrion said and the woman curtsied. The pair left them alone. He smiled at his niece. “Come, you and I have much to talk about dear Niece. Tell me about Kattegat, your home” 

Freyja’s throat began to close, she followed her uncle down a long corridor it took a bit for her to find her words. “My home”, she began to say slowly, “is very beautiful. There is so much green everywhere and it rains a lot. During the winter it gets really cold but I love it”

“It does sound like paradise” Uncle Tyrion commented with a smile, “I hear you worship different gods”

“We do! We worship Odin, Frigg, Thor, Baldur, Loki, Freyja” her eyes had that sparkle again, “I was born during the wrath of Thor and that’s why I’m Thorsdottir”

Tyrion chuckled. “And you were named Freyja after your mother. It was a nickname Ragnar Lothbrok gave your mother”

Freyja’s smile faded. She missed her family so much and prayed to the Gods Ragnar was safe wherever he was. Uncle Tyrion led her and her wolf to a room that was more elegant than the one she had on the ship. Like the rest of the castle, there were beautiful soaring dragons on the walls and ceiling but in the middle of the ceiling, there was a painting of a man with short pale hair and a beard his gaze hard and intimidating. By his side, two beautiful women; one feminine and the other wearing armor. Both of them with the same pale hair and violet eyes as the man. 

“Who’s that?” 

Tyrion followed her eyes, “Ah! That my sweet niece is Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys”

“Conqueror?” she said full of wonder and curiosity.

“Yes, he is Aegon the Conqueror. Many Targaryens were named after him” Tyrion explained as he poured himself a cup of wine, “Many of them not as brave or sane as him though”

The painting was beautiful but her favorite part of the room was the window. She could see the dark ocean from here and smell the sea salt that was stronger than any pungent smell. Freyja was about to open the window when a knock on the door brought their attention. Uncle Tyrion opened the door to find a knight.

“Pardoned me Your Grace but your grandfather has asked to see you,” he said.

There was that look on her uncle’s face again and now Freyja knew that this meeting with her grandfather was not going to end very well. How she wished Bjorn was here to protect her. Even Ragnar. Suddenly the halls of Dragonstone were no longer welcoming and Freyja wished to be anywhere else but here. The whole way to her grandfather’s sickroom, they were quiet not making the situation any better. Finally, they reached two heavy double doors guarded by two more knights. Before they could go in, Tyrion turned to Freyja. 

“Be careful, sweet niece, Your Grandfather is not right in the head.” And the guards opened the door before she could even open her mouth. They were all waiting for them, Father, Stepmother, Uncle Jaime, and...grandfather. He was laying in a large bed with many pillows to keep him propped up, his pale white hair long and matted, lilac eyes sickly and frail or at least what she thought was frail. His nails were longer than hers and the room smelled heavily of illness. Her father motioned her forward. Even the air was uneasy. 

“Father,” King Father said gently, “Y/n is home. This is your granddaughter”

Aerys Targaryen’s eyes studied the girl, “Rhaella? Is that you?” Freyja looked at her father and he gave a dry chuckle. “No father, It’s Y/n. Your grandchild”. Her grandfather’s face molded into a bitter twist. “Come here, girl let me take a look at you”. Freyja gulped and inched her way closer to him. She gasped when he suddenly snatched her wrist gripping it tightly. Aerys’s pulled her closer until she could smell his foul breath. He didn’t say anything only his eyes wandering her face. Freyja’s heart pounded loudly against her chest. The more he stared the angrier he got. There was no illness in those eyes only madness and he was swimming in insanity.

“You smell like the Norse,” he said harshly, “You smell like your bitch mother”

“Father!” Rhaegar hissed and stepmother gasped, Freyja only stared at him dumbfounded. 

“You little wench! Your mother was the one to cause that Rebellion! You are exactly like her. You look like the dragon but you have the stench of a wolf!” Her grandfather roared startling Freyja and everyone else in the room. She then felt a sharp hot sting on her cheek and she fell to the floor from the harsh blow. Stepmother shrieked next she heard the wrestling of men and through watery eyes, Freyja watched her father fight his own. He called for the guards and immediately they busted in holding back the Mad King from hitting her more. Fear shook her entire body. 

“I’ll burn them all!” he screamed, his face red and eyes on fire. “I’ll burn them all starting with you!”

Freyja ignored Uncle Jaime’s strong arms and Stepmother’s desperate cries, she fled from that room as if fleeing from the wrath of Hel. She ran, ran all the way to her room slamming the door behind her. Freyja collapsed on to her bed sobbing inconsolably. No one in her life had hit her. Ever. Everyone had always treated her kindly, her home was full of love and laughter and here she didn’t have that. She missed her Bear, Kraka, Lagertha, Athelstan, her boys. Everyone! It wasn’t fair that these people had to take her away from her family! 

“Freyja? It’s us, Uncle Jaime and Uncle Tyrion, can we come in?” 

She didn’t wipe away her tears or respond. Freyja was far too heartbroken. Her uncles came in anyway. 

“I want to go home!” she wailed “I want my family! I miss my bear!”

Uncle Jaime sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her back. “Don’t cry, little Freyja. Your grandfather will not burn anyone” She sat up still sobbing. Jaime put her head against his chest, letting the tears run down his armor. 

“Hey, hey now,” Uncle Tyrion said, his voice soft and kind “Let’s get your mind of that, hm? Tell me about your family, about Bjorn and Ragnar”

“They would have killed that monster!”

Jaime shot his little brother a look and Tyrion’s eyes went wide. “Alright let’s not talk about that! Please, tell me about Bjorn. You talk about him a lot” Jaime took out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears.

“His name literally means bear,” Freyja said, she touched her necklace, “I call him bear because he is protective of me. A bit overprotective, really. He loves me a lot. I am like his daughter”

“Are you?”

“Yes, and he is like my father” Talking about Bjorn made tears swell in her eyes again. “I really, really, really want to go home. I miss my family”

Uncle Jaime got on one knee taking her hands in his, “I understand, little one but I cannot take you home. We don’t have that power”

“But we can speak to your father,” Uncle Tyrion said, “we can tell him how you feel. In the meantime, you have us to come to for anything else”

Freyja thanked them with all her heart. Stepmother came in after her face was back to its normal bright self and she was laughing at a funny story her Uncle Tyrion was telling. Her stepmother comforted and told her she loved her but her King Father did not come in to talk to her. It stung her. Such coldness from a man who had not seen her once, nonetheless this being the first time as a family. Her supper and dinner were brought to her room and she spent most of her time avoiding her father as much as he had been avoiding her. Freyja spent her time with the rest of her new family, She played with Little Rob, had tea with her stepmother, took a long walk on the shores with Uncle Tyrion and Uncle Jaime. Still, Freyja couldn’t help but have a tiny bit of hope that her King Father would speak to her. 

Thunder roared through the skies, dark clouds covered the blue sky and sun. Waves crashed against the cliffs dangerously. Every time lightning struck, Freyja was seen walking through the corridors of Dragonstone. The dragons on the walls and their statues looked more terrifying than they did during the day. Yet Freyja was not scared, she could hear her people’s music through the thunder. In between those flashes, she saw the familiar woods of home or at least she thought was home.

“How the little piglets' would grunt if they knew how the old boar suffered?” A voice boomed. He sounded familiar but Freyja couldn’t name the owner of the voice. 

A heavy door with the Targaryen sigil opened by itself, creaking. Freyja grabbed a torch from the wall and entered.

“It gladdens me to know that Odin prepares for a feast. Soon I shall be drinking ale from curved horns. This hero that comes into Valhalla does not lament his death!”

Freyja walked down the stone steps, the smell of humidity hung heavy through the air. Thor’s wrath pounding the sky. As she walked, the images of home came flashing back. Somewhere an eagle screeched. The sky was too cloudy for her to see where it was. Freyja followed several more flights of steps until she stumbled on a trap door. She almost missed it through the very dirty floor. Freyja struggled to open it and the door hit the floor with a loud clang. It was very dark down there, she grabbed the torch and squinted to see.

“I shall not enter Odin's hall with fear. There I shall wait for my sons to join me.”

Freyja finally found felt a wooden step and she went into the darkness, careful not to fall. Another image. This time she saw a cage hanging from a tree, sturdy enough to hold a man. Something dreadful will happen here. The closer she got to it the more afraid she was and the more her heart dropped.

“And when they do, I will bask in their tales of triumph. The Aesir will welcome me!”

When she reached the bottom, Freyja was shocked when she came face to face with rows and rows of eggs. All of them as large as a child's head and all of them came in different colors. Their shells scaley and weathered they almost looked to be made of stone. A thousand years old. Freyja put the torch where it could help her see and she picked up an egg, admiring it. Back home, crows circled above her cawing. She braced herself for what she was about to see. There, surrounded by serpents of all sizes, laid her Ragnar. Dead. In the dungeon, the dragon egg burned into glowed but it did not harm her, boiling until it cracked and a baby dragon with golden eyes screeched at her. With Ragnar, Freyja’s screams of terror and anguish turned to the roars of a dragon.

“My death comes without apology! And I welcome the valkyries to summon me home!”

Freyja lurched forward, cold sweat sticking to her skin and her heart pounding. Fenrir padded to his mistress sniffing her to see if she was alright. The princess stroked her wolf’s fur and she was stunned to see that the window was wide open. Thor pounding his hammer furiously.

@lettersofwrittencollective @mellxander1993 @faeeiiry @blonddnamedhandz @-thatgirloverthere- @wanderlustimagines @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @colie87 @whatwhyc-c

[lykezoinks]

[ a/n: alright, this is my last entry for @klangst-week. thanks everybody for all the likes and reblogs! it keeps me writing, and it’s just nice to see people enjoying what i’m putting out! also, the works everyone’s created have just been amazing, so keep it up, y’all! ]

title: impulse control words: 3,547 prompt: secrets/betrayal rating/genre: T for language, modern au, college au, angst & hurt/comfort with a tinge of humor trigger warning(s): mental illness (implied depression and anxiety), depersonalization, mentions of injury (bruises and blood) extra notes: keith and shiro are adoptive brothers (it’s mentioned very briefly), klance is established

Yes, he works in the most hipster coffee shop within a twenty mile radius of campus. And yes, he loves it. Sure, The Underground sounds more like a sketchy bar you’d find in an alleyway that may or may not host fight clubs every other night, and yeah, it kinda smells like pencil shavings even after he mops the floors three times at opening, but at least it has character. Most people would roll their eyes at the always pretentious shop-goer in their thrift store clothing and knit hats, but Lance can’t help but find them interesting. Not that it surprises anyone.

Lance became famous around campus after only one year of being a— totally amazing, if he may say so himself— residence hall assistant. Almost anyone who lived in Levine Hall found a friend in Lance McClain. Eager to please and even more eager to befriend, it’s no secret that he falls in love with almost every social interaction he can muster up.

So he really doesn’t mind if a customer wants to discuss their latest film project, and he’s always happy to adhere to any non-dairy milk preference. Though he doesn’t have a septum ring to match his coworkers’ and he’s a bit too smiley for the spoken poetry nights they host on the stage in the back, that doesn’t stop anyone from placing a dollar in the tip jar after he compliments their tattoos or ends a pleasant conversation with a smile and a wink.

The night shift is easy enough to work. People stop entering the cafe sometime after ten, staying their welcome to study on the couches and leaving before closing. Lance’s manager insists Lance work the front while Floyd takes on the side work. So the remainder of Lance’s shift is spent leaning his elbow against the counter and letting his fingers fall one-by-one against his cheek. He tells leaving customers to enjoy the rest of their night as they leave behind a buzz of idle chatter and a ding of the door. Once the cafe clears out, all that’s left is the sounds of Floyd sweeping the floors and an acoustic song from some band that Lance thinks should have never left their basement.

“Am I free to go, bossman?” Lance asks, drumming his hands against the counter, wiggling his hips in time with the beat as his eyes dart between Floyd and the analog clock on the wall.

“You’re good to go,” Floyd nods, sliding Lance’s wallet across the countertop.

With a happy sigh, Lance punches a few buttons on the register, pulling the drawer out and placing it in the office in the back before clocking himself out and grabbing his keys from the hook. The second he does, his phone rings from its spot in his jacket pocket. Slipping it into his palm, he drags his thumb across the screen and cradles it between his ear and his shoulder. “Perfect timing! How’s it hangin’, Pidgeotto?”

“Lance! Hey, um…” The way Pidge says ‘Lance’, high pitched and cracking, tells him he’s about to get bad news. Before he can stop her, Pidge is already stringing together a plethora of subject changers that just seem ridiculous given that the two of them weren’t on a particular subject to begin with.

“Pidge,” Lance interrupts partway through some bullshit commentary having to do with the ‘crazy weather we’ve been having.’ Lance knows that no one has to explain climate change to Pidge, given its something she rants about at least twice a day. “What’s going on?”

“Yeah, okay… Um, we’re at Black Spot… And, uh— Hunk… Hunk, would you— No, grab him! Jesus… “

“What happened?” His sigh is heavy as he closes the door behind him after giving Floyd a curt wave, already headed toward his car. The Black Spot never means anything good, ever. Why his boyfriend so loves the town’s shadiest bar is beyond Lance; he doesn’t exactly find peeling paint and stained floor boards charming. And the muscled biker guys that do nothing but take up space at the bar to glower at the assorted whiskeys along the wall and ramble about their Navy days— or something like that— don’t exactly put Lance in the partying mood.

“Lotor happened.”

“Oh, God…” Lance drags a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose.

He doesn’t need context. Any instance in which Lance’s current boyfriend and Lance’s ex-boyfriend are in the same room usually results in disaster. And a night in the E.R. And, lo and behold, by some cruel twist of fate, these disasters are becoming more and more frequent in recent months. Lance is half convinced that they’re destined to kill each other, like Lotor is Tybalt and Keith is a far less flamboyant Mercutio. Lance refuses to be the Benvolio in this situation. “Just stay put. I’ll be there in a sec.”

A near collision and a half-assed parallel parking job later, Lance walks himself outside the bar, feeling exceptionally underdressed as the Winter weather dusts over his arms. He has to push himself through a crowd of people waiting to be let in by the bouncer before he sees a head of familiar wild hair. In her NASA sweatshirt and minimalist alien hat, Pidge looks like she belongs at a performance art showcase rather than a night out on the town, but Lance is too exhausted to comment on his friends’ poor fashion decisions. Even if that Hawaiian shirt is so not Hunk’s color.

Instead, his focus shifts onto his leather-clad boyfriend, and rather than point out the fact he looks like a Danny Zuko knock-off with a red beanie and black baby gauges in his ears, he steps forward with his arms crossed instead.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge sighs, sounding somewhat relieved. Hunk is a bit busy grabbing at Keith’s shoulder every time he tries to take a step toward the street. Handling a Drunk Keith is like— as Keith would say in True Texan Spirit— herding cats.

“Hey,” Lance says briskly, marching passed Pidge to strap a hand on the collar of Keith’s jacket. “Lemme see.”

Keith huffs and turns his head, looking utterly indifferent as Lance’s eyes widen.

“Shit, Keith…” He squints a little, scanning over his boyfriend’s busted lip and the fresh patch of bruises, purples, blues, and reds bleeding from underneath one eye, across the bridge of his nose, and all the way under his other eye.

“It’s not that bad,” Keith slurs, holding up a wavering hand.

“Not that—!” Lance has to close his eyes and suck in a breath through his nose, counting to ten just like Mama McClain taught him, before he can open his eyes again. But his glare doesn’t disappear.

“Sorry, man,” Hunk all but mewls beside him, rubbing at the back of his neck in a flustered fashion. “I tried to pull them off of each other as soon as I could.”

“It’s not your fault, big guy,” Lance assures, turning to his best friend with a soft smile before glaring right back at his boyfriend. “It’s yours.”

“Why is it that all of a sudden—” Keith starts, but Lance knows better than to let him divert Lance’s attention.

“There’s no way Lotor with his pretty boy hands was the only culprit. Who the hell were you picking a fight with this time?”

Keith chews at the inside of his cheek, opting to take out his pent up anger on the ground as he fixes it with a fiery glare.

Pidge steps in for him then, pushing her circle glasses further up her nose. “The usual suspects.”

“Great,” Lance grumbles, never breaking his staring contest with Keith’s profile. “So now you wanna take on Lotor and his frat buddies. All of whom are very rich… And can hire very. Good. Attorneys.”

“Lance.” Hunk sets a hand on Lance’s back, offering a sympathetic look that makes Lance’s hunched shoulders deflate. “I know you’re mad, but do you really wanna do this out here?”

It’s then that Lance realizes he’s making a scene, the crowd of people on the street gawking in their direction. And he also realizes that it’s making Keith antsy. That’s apparent in the way he starts shifting his shoulders in every which way and pales a little in the face.

“We’re the ones who let your boyfriend off his leash,” Pidge admits, saying “your boyfriend” like he’s now completely Lance’s responsibility. Saying it like she hasn’t been Keith’s best friend since the fifth grade.

Lance fishes his car keys from his back pocket, still trying to cool off from the anger burning something fierce in his chest. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night, okay? I’m gonna take Keith back to the apartment.”

“Are you sure? We can come with you,” Hunk offers, the concern never leaving his eyes for a moment.

“No, seriously, it’s fine. Besides, I thought I saw a familiar little curly girly named Shay head into that other bar a couple blocks from here.”

Hunk reddens just a little, but nods in agreement as Pidge makes some complaint about being a third wheel. In a mess of goodbyes and repeatedly reaching for Keith’s hand— his opposition to PDA is counterproductive given that he can’t walk by himself without stumbling— Lance finally gets the chance to unlock his car and slide into the driver’s seat. Keith flops down into the passenger’s seat next to him, pulling one leg up to rest his foot on the polyester as he plays absently with the laces on his high tops.

The drive home is silent, mostly because Lance can’t think of a decent lecture that won’t end in a two-way silent treatment, something that’s proven to be agonizing given they’re the only two living in a one-bedroom apartment. After Lance parks, helps Keith climb the stairs, and fumbles with the key in the lock, Keith finds a spot in their too small kitchen, sliding down the lower cabinets to sit cross-legged on the floor. Because apparently he’s a household pet.

Lance rifles through the freezer, snagging a bag of whatever’s packaged and frozen before all but chucking it onto one of Keith’s thighs. Keith seems to get the message, picking it up and hesitantly pressing it to his multi-colored face. Lance finds the place on the floor across from his boyfriend and sits back on his thighs, staring. For a long while, the only sounds in the room are the hum of the refrigerator and their neighbor’s dog yipping through the walls.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Lance says it more rhetorically than anything.

Keith swallows hard, trying to cover up half of his face with vegetable medley. His voice is muffled by the plastic when he says, “About what?”

Lance rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He has half the mind to storm off into the bedroom and leave Keith to tend to his own wounds. But being a middle sibling of six has taught him patience if nothing else, so he counts to ten again. “About why your face looks like a Goya painting,” he deadpans.

Keith fidgets under Lance’s gaze. His knuckles would be white if they weren’t bruised too. “You know how your asshole ex is.”

“Keith, you have got to pull your head out of the Middle Ages! I’m not some damsel in distress whose honor you have to defend.” Though Lance would admit it was hot the first time… But seeing Keith beat up with dried blood caked all over his features every other weekend is starting to look less suave and James Deany and more thoughtless.

Keith drops the bag of frozen vegetables. Then his nose twitches. To the untrained eye, it would go unnoticed, but Lance has been dating him for two years and three months. And a nose twitch means that Keith’s hiding something.

“But this has nothing to do with that, does it?”

“Lance, would you just let it go—”

“Okay, fine. You want me to let this one go? Then we can talk about last week. Or the week before that. Or the week before that.”

Keith tries for a glare then, a practiced stare that looks like flames are licking at his irises, but Lance is immune from prolonged exposure.

“And I know you’re not that drunk, so let’s not act like this was impulse alone.”

When Keith shrugs off his jacket and tosses it across the room, Lance sees that the bruises aren’t just on his face. His heart jumps up to his throat as the sound of the ice machine crunches in the background.

“Would you just tell me why you’re being more of a brooding edgelord than usual? Why do you have to be so emotionally constipated?” He places either hand on Keith’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “Let me be your laxative.”

“You really have a knack for making up the world’s most disgusting metaphors.”

“It’s a gift. I’m thinking of turning it into a career path.”

“Stick to astrophysics.”

“Stop changing the subject.” It’s clear that neither of them is budging, so Lance just arches a brow and asks, “Do I have to call Shiro?”

Keith slams his back further into the cabinets with a groan. The older brother card is always the trump card. “Do not tell Shiro about this, please. I’m still getting lectures about my stupid cafeteria fights in high school.”

“Then tell me what’s going on! I thought when we said we were gonna be more open with each other, it was gonna be a two-way street. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Nothing’s going on, Lance, okay? I hate your ex-boyfriend and his stupid frat bro sidekicks, and I shouldn’t have had that last shot of moonshine, alright?”

While it is incredibly tempting to comment on the moonshine bit, Lance holds off. Because something else catches his eye. Crossing his arms over his chest, he refuses to break eye contact, giving Keith just a few more moments to tell him the truth. The clock ticks away, and there’s nothing. “You’re biting your lip,” he says finally.

“So?”

“So, one, stop it; it’s busted and you’re gonna hurt yourself. And two, that means you’re not telling me something.”

“Would you quit psychoanalyzing me!?”

Patience be damned. Something in Lance snaps then, something that makes his teeth grind and heat bubble in his chest. His fists tremble a little before he throws his hands out to his sides and starts getting to his feet. “Fine, you know what? Fine. Forget I asked. God forbid someone try to care about you, Keith, damn.”

He steps to leave, but as soon as he does, Keith clasps a hand onto his wrist and pulls just a little. The moment Lance turns his head, eyes sharp with ice and prickling rage, he feels his heart jump. The anger slowly trickles out of his system, sending a shiver down his spine. Keith looks a little broken, shoulders squared and eyes pleading in a way that’s so unlike him it makes something in the back of Lance’s head scream.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just… You’re gonna think I’m bat-shit.”

Lance exhales low and deep, turning fully and sitting back down across from Keith. He sets a gentle hand on Keith’s knee, trying to get him to make eye contact. “Try me.”

Keith’s mental illness has been the elephant in the room, always noticed but never talked about. Because Keith refused to talk about it. It took a full year’s convincing, mostly on Shiro’s end, just to get him to start seeing help. Some days he was a mess of the emotions he never learned how to process, and Lance would try his best to be there for him. Other days were better. Other days he was just silent and spacey and tried not to cry.

“No one knows this, okay? Not even Shiro, not even my goddamn shrink, so you can’t…” He trails off, and Lance tries to squeeze his knee in support.

“Keith… Keith, look at me…” When Keith looks up, his eyes are growing misty, pink rings already apparent on the brims of his eyes. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Offering a weak nod, Keith takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he forces himself to speak. “I just… I thought that maybe… Y’know how sometimes people… I don’t know, I thought if I was… Fuck.” He holds up his hands before Lance can say anything, blinking away whatever tears form in his eyes before he lets out a breath and continues. “I thought if I could feel, I don’t know, pain… If I could feel anything I’d stop feeling like…” Keith clamps his teeth down on his lower lip again. Whatever tears he blinks away only come back.

Lance sighs, reaching out his thumb to slip Keith’s lip from his teeth’s grasp. “Keith, you can cry—”

“No, I can’t,” Keith starts, though his voice trembles despite himself. “Because if I start I won’t stop. And I just— Fuck, I just need to say it.” Lance can practically feel the frustration radiating off of the other in waves. With a steady breath, he takes a hand in Keith’s, holding it to his chest and letting Keith know he has Lance’s full attention. Keith hisses in another breath and tries again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… Lately, it’s just like, like nothing is fucking real, and I can talk and hear and touch things, but it’s like I’m not really there. Like I’m in some weird dream world, and I’m just watching myself or something. Or like everything’s not really there, or maybe it is, and I’m just not a part of it… I don’t know, it feels like I’m going insane.”

“Keith…” Lance doesn’t know where to go from there, watching his boyfriend struggle around his words with a pain sinking into Lance’s chest.

“Sometimes I don’t think I even sound like me… Like when I talk, it’s some kind of automated computer message, y’know? And I went home for Christmas. And I thought… I don’t know, I thought being home and in my own bed might make me feel normal again. But it didn’t. And nothing feels normal, nothing feels… Damn it, I’m going insane.” That’s when Keith’s face twists, twists into something that’s a punch to Lance’s gut. And Keith is squinting his eyes closed, sniffling loudly before a sob emits from his throat.

“You know… You don’t have to be so strong all the time…” Lance says in a whisper, tucking a strand of Keith’s hair behind his ear.

Keith looks up at him, eyes watery as he sobs again, pressing his face into Lance’s chest. Lance wraps his arms around him instinctively, feeling Keith shake, choking and whimpering against him. Lance can only hold him closer, shushing him tenderly as Keith claws at the back of Lance’s shirt, gripping onto the fabric like he’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Each broken little noise that leaves Keith is another twist in Lance’s heart, and he doesn’t dare let go.

“It’s okay, you’re okay…” Lance coos, pressing tender kisses on the top of Keith’s hair. “You’re okay, baby… You’re okay…”

Keith doesn’t stop weeping, not until his throat is raw and all he can do is let silent tears roll down his cheeks as he snivels and tries to breathe normally again.

By the time he leans back, sniffling and rubbing under his eyes with the back of his palm, there’s a wet patch on Lance’s T-shirt. Lance doesn’t mind, too busy trying to read Keith’s expression, setting a hand on the back of his neck.

“Do you feel any better?” Lance asks softly, ducking his head into Keith’s line of sight.

Keith nods his head slowly, wiping his nose with the white cotton of his T-shirt with another wet snivel. “Sorry about your shirt.”

Lance snorts, rolling his eyes just a little. “I have other shirts.”

“Yeah.” Keith’s breath shudders once more as he collects himself and blinks the wetness from his puffy eyes, tears caught on his eyelashes. “I’m just sorry I—”

“No. No… We agreed no more apologizing about this.”

“No, you said ‘Keith, stop apologizing every time you cry.’”

“Okay, smartass.” Lance rises to his feet, offering his hands and pulling Keith up along with him. With a steady breath, he places a gentle kiss on the corner of Keith’s lips, mindful to avoid the forming scab. “Thank you… For sharing that with me.”

Keith nods solemnly, probably thinking something snarky about how Lance is talking like his therapist. So Lance goes for a subject change, placing his hands at the base of Keith’s neck.

“How about you wash your face and pick out a movie, alright?”

They spend the rest of the night tangled up in each other, Lance refusing to move his arms from Keith’s waist even as Keith awkwardly holds an icepack to his face. Eventually, they drift to sleep, heart beats pumping in time while Lance tries his best to whisper words of comfort.

“I love you… And you’re here. Even if your mind’s playing tricks on you. You’re here, and you’re with me. And I love you…”

[kindly-creatot]

first date frappe

so this is a continuation of this coffee shop/college au for dash/danny.

its the first date, so enjoy. c:

Danny didn't think this through. Like most things, he went in head first, brain second. Star was happily taking care of the customers that lined up at the register as Danny made drinks and called them out without much thought to it. Most of his brain power was going to be used up on figuring out what the hell he and Dash were going to do on this date. Star had taken over the playlist for the shop and was now playing cheesy love songs as they worked and would not change it no matter how much Danny begged.

"It's my turn to pick the music today, anyways," Star said with a grin. "Plus you're going on a date with one of my best friends," and that's right. Star is best friends with Dash and dating Kwan.

"Yeah, about that… what does he like to do?" Danny grins sheepishly at her and she gives him a look like she's not impressed. Danny can't blame her, he's not impressed either.

"Well, go to dinner, duh. You're getting off work and you're gonna be hungry," Star tells him with a 'duh' look and Danny frowns at her for a second before calling out the next drink. He feels his phone go off in his back pocket and he grabs it to see an unknown number on the screen with a new text.

unknown number hey, its dash

Danny smiles before replying to the number.

pic or its not real

He was surprised when it took a minute for the reply. He gets a message as he's finishing up a frappe for another blonde girl in yoga pants and calls that out before checking his phone. He chokes on a breath for a second before he takes a deep breath and looks at the picture that Dash had sent once more. It was a typical gym selfie, Dash standing in front of some machine and flexing an arm with a wide grin and phone in the other hand. Danny had to admit that Dash was fit. He had on a loose white tank, slightly stained from sweat, and what Danny guessed were black shorts. Kwan was in the background too and looked like he was posing mockingly behind the blonde.

real enough? ;)

And Danny thought, yeah that's real enough. He felt a stupid smile slip onto his lips as he typed out a reply to the other boy. Sam was laughing at something behind him in her booth. He glances back and Star is over there showing her phone to the goth. How they became friends was beyond Danny, but Sam did spend a large amount of time here  when Tuck and him worked.

"What're you guys laughing at?" Danny asks and leans over the bar top to try and see the blonde girls phone. She shows him the phone and it's a snapchat of Kwan's face as he focuses on Dash behind him, taking the selfie he just sent to Danny. There's a caption on the bottom part of it that says 'when ur bro has a reason to take gym selfies u g2 mock'

Star gets another notification for snapchat as Danny's looking at this one and switches to the new one from Kwan and it's now a pic of a blushing Dash yelling at Kwan, who looks like he's dying of laughter. 'got caught #ohshit'.

Danny can't help but laugh at that and Star looks at him before looking at his unlocked phone on the counter top. She grabs it quicker then he thought she could move, Sam holds out her hand and scrolls through the phone for them to look through as Danny squawks about privacy. Star and Sam find the pic easily and let out what Danny understands as a squee when they see the pic Dash sent.

"Guys, come on, give me my phone back," Danny reaches out to grab it as he feels the blush creeping up his cheeks. It's not that he has to hide anything, Sam's already seen him at his worst growing up. He knew what Sam was doing too. Setting that pic as his contact number and his backgrounds on his phone.

Well, jokes on her, Danny thought, was gonna make Dash his background anyways.

"Seriously, chill, Danny. Just messing around," Sam gave him a toothy grin and he felt even more wary of what was going on now. As soon as the raven haired boy got his phone back he looked through to see if she had texted the blonde or done something stupid. She hadn't so he gave her a look and went back to wiping down counters and texting Dash. -----

7pm rolled around too quickly, or not quick enough. Danny wasn't sure yet. His stomach was turning into a cage for butterflies and he was sure there was a permanent blush on his cheeks as Star kept giving him sideways glances like she knew something. As Tucker came in for his night shift he looked between Danny and Star with a questioning look but didn't comment on anything as he pulled on his apron. Danny sighs and pulls his own apron off, signing out of the register and grabbing his messenger bag.

As he's walking out to the sidewalk, a car pulls up in front of the shop and Danny is struck by the picture it creates. It's a beautifully restored classic, '67 Ford Mustang Fastback with a white paint job and two red stripes down the middle. It's made better when Dash comes out of the drivers side, smiling and blushing. Danny can't help but smile back stupidly until he hears Star call out to them.

"Have fun on your guys date!" and Danny glares at the girl as Dash brings a hand to cover his face. Tucker looks shocked for a moment before Star leans over to him and Danny assumes that she's telling him everything. He looks back at Dash shyly.

"Let's leave while we still can. She'll want pictures like it's prom if we don't go now," Danny tells him and jerks a thumb at the two behind him.

"Uh, yeah, let's go," Dash walks around to the other side of the car and opens the door before Danny can reach it and it makes Danny chuckle. "What?"

"Oh, uh. Well, you just didn't strike me as a 'open the door for a date' kinda person. It's nice," Danny tells him and takes a seat in the car. He takes the moment between when Dash shuts the door and walks over to the drivers side to take in what he's wearing. It's a simple outfit, jeans and, what Danny can only assume, is one of his nicer shirts. Its black and form fitting to his torso, showing off hard worked muscles. He's still staring at the blonde when he sits himself in the drivers seat. Bright eyes catch his own and Danny blushes at being caught.

"I got something on my face?" Dash looks in his rear view mirror for a second before blushing and looking back at Danny. "What?"

"Nothing, you just… you look good," Danny says it softly and hoped that Dash couldn't hear him but when he looked at the blonde, he was grinning again. "Also this car is amazing,"

"Thanks, I uh, well Kwan and I rebuilt it together. I got the frame from my uncle and we just went from there," Dash smiles at fond memories and Danny can see the pride flowing from him. It's the most adorable thing Danny has seen.

"Show me how she drives then," Danny tells him and leans back in his seat, bag by his feet and seatbelt secure. Dash looks at him for a minute, probably wondering why Danny even wanted him to just drive around. "Let's drive,"

"Okay," Dash replies and turns over the ignition, engine growling awake and radio turning on softly as they start away from the shop. With the windows rolled down the breeze feels good in the early summer heat they've been having. Danny closes his eyes and leans to the side with a smile. He hums in contentment, his arm hanging on the window sill and hand running along the wind.

Danny opens his eyes again and looks over to see Dash watching him with a look he can't quite read. It makes him queasy in the best way.

"So… what're you studying?" Dash asks him as they tour the town.

"Astrobiology as my major, with a minor in Astronomy," Danny answers  slightly uneasily. His interests have led to more then one date getting bored by him. Astronomy was simple, people liked stars. It was the Astrobiology that turned people away, being that it expanded the thinking that there was something else out there and he wanted to know if life outside Earth was possible and where it came from.

"Holy crap, really? Now I just feel lazy," Dash laughs loudly and Danny smiles. "So what is astrobiology?"

"The definition is "The exploration of life outside of Earth and to the investigation of the origin and early evolution of life on Earth.”… but that's a kinda boring way of saying it," Danny searched Dash's face for a reaction and waited as he thought about something.

"So… you like aliens and the Big Bang theory?" Dash asks simply and Danny can't help but laugh at it.

"Yeah, that's probably the most basic way of saying it.. Uhm, what're you studying?"

"Oh, Sports Med. I have a full ride scholarship to play football and so I figured I might as well keep my major in the sports field," Dash shrugs and they stop at a red light so he turns to Danny. "You hungry? There's a burger joint that's pretty good,"

"As long as it's not Nasty Burger," Danny laughs at the hometown burger joint he grew up with until he notices the look Dash is giving him. "What?"

"You had a Nasty Burger in your town? I thought my hometown was the only one with that shithole," Dash laughs.

"Yeah, like Amity Park would have a classy burger joint anywhere near it," Danny laughs.

"You grew up in Amity Park? That's where I'm from!" Dash is grinning and Danny can't believe it.

"What? No way! We're from the same hometown? How'd that even happen?" Seriously, what were the odds that he and Dash were from the same town? Slim to none. A car behind them honked and they both looked to the green light turning yellow now and Dash sped off from the angry person behind them with the boys both laughing.

"Shit, that guy was mad," Dash laughed as they pulled into the drive thru of the burger place. "You mind drive thru? There's a place we can go to eat,"

"Nah, it's cool. I can pay," Danny offers, pulling his wallet from his bag. Dash looks like he wants to fight it but doesn't as they pull up to the speaker box. Getting the food was quick and Dash looked a little sour when Danny gave his card to pay for the food but still said nothing. Passing Danny the food and drinks, Dash thanked the person with a dazzling grin and then drove off with Danny laughing at the blonde.

"What're you laughing at, punk?" Dash gave him a sidelong glance as he shifted gears.

"Nothing, just thinking you gotta be careful with that smile of yours. You kinda blindside people with it," Danny tells him and snags a fry from the bag. "You have this like… resting bitch face and then 'bam!' you grin at them and they melt,"

"I don’t have a resting bitch face, you do," Dash laughs at the mocking outrage face Danny shoots him and turns onto a backroad. It trails on for a while and Danny watches the sun start to sink in the sky.

"Okay, maybe we should agree to disagree, but I'm sure most people would think we both do," Danny admits with a smirk. "I mean, just think about the first time I met you. Walk in the café and say I don't know how to make a drink," the raven haired boy laughs as Dash turns a quizzical look to him.

"That wasn't the first time we met," he tells Danny and pulls to a stop near some trees and a picnic table. It’s the picturesque view of the town below. Like a scene out of a romance movie, it's the hill side picnic area, sunset in the background and the town below far away. "You don't know when we first met!" Dash laughs at the raven and gets out of the car with the drinks.

"What do you mean? I would have noticed you if we had classes together…" Danny tries to think back hard now and follows Dash to the picnic table with food.

"Wow, seriously," the blonde looks like he's having too much fun torturing the smaller male as he sips his soda. "We lived down the hall from each other freshman year. You once knocked on my door in nothing but a towel because you locked yourself out of your dorm and your roommate wasn't in. You had me jimmy your door open because Kwan told you I figured out a way to open all the doors in the hall with just a bobby pin and knife,"

"OH. MY. GOD. No, nonono. That cannot be the first time. I refuse," Danny could feel the full body flush taking over at the memory. He covers his face with his hands as he groans and Dash laughs at him. "That just… no. Nope, that did not happen…"

"I wanted to ask you out but as soon as I opened your door, you walked in and slammed it in my face," Dash was smiling at Danny from across the table. How was this his life? He's spent the last three years of his college life trying to forget about that moment because he was so embarrassed to ask that of the cutest guy in his dorm and freaked out.

"I thought that would have been a deal breaker," Danny tells him as he takes his hands off his face but doesn’t drop them, his shield. Dash laughs out loud and Danny feels large hands clasp gently around his wrists to pull them away gently. Dash is looking at him with a grin that could melt the even the coldest heart and a blush of his own.

"I found out from Star that you worked at the coffee shop and tried to work up the courage to go in there and ask you out since I've known about it," he admits with a shrug.

"It took you three years to tell me to date you?" Danny asks with a smirk. The blonde playfully growls but smiles at Danny. "We're both kinda messes, huh?"

"Just means we're gonna get along just fine," Dash tells him and Danny can't help the stupid smile on his face. "We can be messy together,"

"That is soooo cheesy, Dash," Danny barks out a laugh and Dash throws a fry at him as he blushes and frowns.

"Eat your burger and enjoy this romantic view, you jerk," Dash makes a face and Danny starts to like Dash even more as he watches the blonde eat for a moment before digging into his own food. -----

Danny sat in the passenger seat of Dash's car as it was parked in front of the apartment that Danny shared with Tucker and Sam. He was waiting, not sure for what but he wanted to stay in this moment a bit longer. Danny liked this moment in time specifically.

Dash was in the driver's seat, talking about something that happened in class the other day with Kwan and Danny had found out that when Dash talks, he talks with his hands. The raven haired boy was comfortable in Dash's letterman jacket, the blonde had offered it when it got cold outside and Danny had instantly taken up the offer of it, memorizing the scent of it.

"I guess… we should call it a night?" Dash was looking up at the apartments with a look on his face that Danny wasn't sure how to read yet. His hands gripped the steering wheel lightly and the street lights cast a sort of glow on his face that made Danny want to take a picture.

"I guess… I, uh, had a really good time, Dash," he speaks softly, like it's gonna break him to leave the car.

"I did too, Danny… maybe we could… we could do something this weekend? If you're not busy?" Dash doesn’t look at him and bites his bottom lip.

"I'd like that," he gets a glance from bright eyes and rosy cheeks. "A lot,"

"Good, good… Good," Dash nods his head and breaths deep, like he's preparing himself for something. Danny's got a hand on the door, squeezing the handle and grabbing his bag as he turns to face Dash and say goodnight. The blonde reaches for Danny though and wraps a hand around the back of his head to smash their faces together in a sort of kiss. Danny blinks once and then closes his eyes, sighing into the kiss and smiling against the lips on his. Dash pulls away after a moment but doesn’t let Danny go. "Was that… was that okay? To do?"

"Well, I would have been severely disappointed in the both of us if we didn't kiss goodnight," Danny says with a smirk. Dash rolls his eyes and leans back in for a chaste kiss. "I do have a test tomorrow though… So I should probably go,"

"Yeah," another kiss. "Probably," Dash agrees and once more leans in for a kiss before Danny breaks it and opens the car door. Danny smiles against his lips and starts to lean away.

"This is me," kiss. "Leaving," kiss. "Really…" kiss. Danny breaks away again and actually gets a foot out before he looks back up at Dash's face. He's beaming that megawatt smile again and Danny bites his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of Dash's warm hand in his hair. "Night, Dash,"

"Night, Danny," the blonde makes no move to stop him this time as he actually makes it out of the car, grabbing his bag to sling it across his body. He shuts the door and heads to the passcode locked door before he looks back at Dash.

Who is doing that fist pump thing in his car and thrashing around happily.

Until he looks up at Danny, who is watching with glee at the show, and then stops and hides his face by hitting his forehead on the top of the steering wheel. When he looks back up at Danny, the raven waves with a smile and heads inside the building.

It's when Danny makes it into the apartment that he realizes he still has Dash's jacket on. Well, hopefully the blonde wouldn't miss it till the weekend, Danny hoped at least.

[sydrave]

Charlie asked me to do all of them...

Alisons: Sexuality? Queer? Like panro ace ish

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender? Non-binary/male, they/he

Amaryllis: Birthday? 11.24.99

Anemone: Favorite flower? I love receiving daisies and sunflowers and roses. Yellow daffodils are my absolute favorite though. 

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show? I don't watch a ton but I enjoy dystopias and YA series

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger? As far as they'd like me to without putting myself in too much of a risky situation. Pet peeve is when people assume I need help, so I'd ask first. 

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Absolutely not.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love? Yes

Baneberries: Favorite song? Right now I'm digging Tyler Glenn Midnight

Basket of Gold: Describe your family. Pretty average divorced family. I don't wanna get into too much detail publicly. I have a mom and a dad and a sister and a stepmom.

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it? Ren! Danny boy! Charlie! Alex! Al-Pal!

Begonia: Favorite color? Yellow -- all shades of it, including gold.Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person? Night, but slow mornings to reset are so lovely.

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?A bird. I'd love to fly. Mobility, I guess? I've also always just wanted to fly

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? Paleontologist. Plan B was a pop star.

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children? I love them! I'd like my own but I'm a little afraid and have some stuff to figure out first.

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood. I was bullied pretty bad in elementary school, pre-coming out and everything. I ended up needing to switch schools.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  I value my own time and happiness a lot, so I don't think much would be different. I'd love to spend time with Charlie and Alex. Bri and Mom, too. I'd like to see Dad and Brittany before heading out. Books and music, soup, nice smelling lotion, the works. Something gentle and full of love.

Buttercup: Relationship Status? Single and less happy about it

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go? I'm in love with the Cali beaches. San Diego is lovely. The coast.

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?  No, but I'd maybe like some someday.

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  No, don't want any.

California Poppy: Height?  5'3

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  Jeans, yellow converse, Flint pride t-shirt, brown jacket. Red beanie on and off. Kaliope has been out for a bit today but she's away currently.

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight? Still do, but I'm not opposed to the dark.

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged? Charlie last night

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed? Elliot

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font? The typewriter one

Columbine: Are you tired? Right now, yes, emotionally. I'm feeling Big Sad today.

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to? Dinner with my friends tonight. Getting my journals done.

Coneflower: Dream job? Working with queer youth in a queer little bubble. 

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert? Both? Formerly exclusively introvert. Now I'm not sure.

Crocus: Have you ever been in love? Yes

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about? As far as they'd consent.

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it? Yes! Several! Muu was the biggest one. She was a Webkinz Jr Pig. Muitha Marie Hammie was her full name.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign? Saggitarius

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering? A lot of things but I'm sentimental and value memories

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment? I ended up kind. 

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  Cry probably. It depends on what their concern was. I'd probably hear them out but wouldn't base anything solely on that.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to? Charlie, Alex, and Ren. I read this question last night and realized I didn't know, and I value telling my friends I love them, so I did. 

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at? I'm trying to not use the words good/bad to describe myself, but I'll tell you something I enjoy! I really like reading!

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at? Same as above -- I don't enjoy writing journal entries for school

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month? -I went to Chicago and Flint with Charlie and Alex!-She Kills Monsters!-I had a really good AMCULT class

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today? Today was tricky. I had a great, calm start with lots of water and self care and things that smell nice, but my day has gotten more frustrating and difficult as it went. I met Charlie for lunch which was lovely, but then people were saying really mean things about my friends and my show at my lab, and then I went to a class that I guess wasn't meeting today, and at work people were mean and they're kinda exploiting my city and calling it an "aesthetic." Plus I'm just regular sad too I guess. I'm feeling sad right now, and maybe a little anxious. 

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life? Absolutely. I've been working really hard to be able to say that.

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two? Tackle this second major.

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life? People, coffee, soup, books, blankets, journals, poems, outside, night time, love.

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  Blankets real tight wrapped around me. Things that smell nice but aren't overwhelming. Tactile things -- nice hugs and touches. 

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of? My sister

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day. Making breakfast with someone I love (romantic or not (preferably romantic) and could be more than one person but not a party y'know). Eat together and have some coffee. Nice sunlight. Snuggling and reading books or watching movies. Staying in comfy clothes all day. Maybe making them lunch or them making it for me. We can bake cookies and play games or build puzzles in the background. Soup is in there somewhere. Just a nice, cozy day in.

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  I don't really have that but I like books

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them? I'm gonna go with Ren. We met my first day of 6th grade, which was scary because I was the new kid (that whole switching schools thing). So, like 7 years now? She was the first person to show me kindness in a while. Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?I don't know if I have this person right now. Maybe Ren or Kota, but we don't talk terribly often. 

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?I'm not sure how to count that. I consider a lot of people to be friends.

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Someone told me once that I'd make his grandmother proud because of my dedication to disability representation. I cried. Still do when I think about it. Recently, someone told me, "Lio, a single word cannot encompass all you've done besides give," which was so kind of him.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself? I think I'm pretty okay. I try to be a good person.

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself? I'm open to recognizing where I'm wrong and changing. 

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  I'm really sensitive

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child? Play Little House on the Prairie 

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid? I had a few. Paige Albert, Meghan Donnelly, Megan Connelly, Izzy Carlyon, Ariana (idk her last name now she was adopted recently). 

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for? This is a Big Secret I'm never going to talk aboutLily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?  Using resources and accommodations I needLupine: What does your name m

ean? Why is that your name? Derived from Helios, the Greek sun god. I thought it was fitting. 

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it. Flushing. White, boring, and sad.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up? It was light blue with the "Starlight Starbright" rhyme stenciled all around. Yellow glow in the dark stars and my name on the wall with the same material. Glitter constellations on the ceiling. 

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  (TW Mental Health)I struggled a lot. I was a trans kid in small-town midwest with anxiety and depression and an ED and had self-harm issues for a while. It wasn't great. I'm having a much better final teenage year though. 

[Skipping the ones about my family]

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable? I had a scavenger hunt in 7th grade! We had two cars of 4 and drove around Flint taking pictures with different things on the list. I was mad because my dad cheated so I'd lose, even though it was my birthday. It was a lot of fun though.

Peony: What was your first job? I tutored Algebra

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any? I'm not, but I don't have a specific way. I'd like to be their friend first.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain? Distractions and meds. Kaliope. I just kind of have to, I'm not sure how I do it. 

Pink: Where is home? I'm not sure right now. 

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change? I would stay close with my sister and come out to her. I blame myself a lot for not being close to her. I feel like we should've had important conversations. 

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them. Alex in Seattle. They care about things like I do, but they're a lot more assertive and less afraid to be mean. 

Primrose: Describe your ideal life. I think I might be living it. Romantic love would be nice, but I'm okay without it.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child? I had three ghosts in my house. Catherine, a girl my age that looked similar to me, Casper, like the friendly ghost, and Black Licorice, their black cocker spaniel ghost puppy. I used to ask them to stay with me at night and always felt safe with them, because I also had mean ghosts in my house.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life? Myself and my sister.

Rose: What’s your favorite sound? I love piano. People who sing and give it everything.

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory? Recently, when everyone started calling me Lio without me prompting them to, especially my classmates.

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory? Don't want to think about it.

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  A long hug and some soup. 

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things? Both. I'm okay with talking about my feelings, but I'm learning how to use healthier language and methods which is difficult.

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without? Any aspect of my identity. I love being this weird, trans, queer, crip teenager that I am. 

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night? Never enough.

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job? I want to quit. I like it, but the boss has strong opinions and I'm always in pain. 

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you? Love and affection. I'm not sure -- a coffee date? Soup? I like experiences more than things. If we're talking things, essential oils or blankets or stuffed animals or comfort things.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now? Lab journals and school social life

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called? Lots and lots. The most important were Eli Clare's "Exile and Pride" and "Brilliant Imperfection."

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year? Right here (or around the corner in my single I guess) with people I love. 

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?I don't think so..?

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.I hate random facts. 

[stormgambit]

My true love gave to me… my thoughts on White Christmas. 

I love White Christmas it’s one of my favorite movies. I’ve seen it twice so far this Christmas season… but the first one doesn’t really count as it was before Thanksgiving. I will say the most satisfying viewing of White Christmas was when I went to the State Theatre a few years ago and saw it on the big screen.

I love going to the State Theatre, can’t you tell.

This year I decided to watch White Christmas today while my brothers were outside playing football in the snow. They then got mad at me because I upset their normal video game schedule. Anyways let’s talk White Christmas.

One of the things I love about this movie are the costumes… specifically Rosemary Clooney’s. First off is this amazing periwinkle number. It’s so light, fluffy, and simple, it really make’s Vera-Ellen’s dress look a bit gaudy (although that one is pretty too).

Such a pretty color.

Rosemary Clooney also gets some of the best performance outfits.

My favorite is this black sparkly dress, if I were to ever do a red carpet this is what I would wear. It shimmers every time she moves and it just looks so fantastic on her.

I even love the poofy red train on this dress. 

This goes without saying but Edith Head knew what she was doing.

I also rally like the dress she wears while performing at the Carousel Club. It’s a classic revenge dress she’s mad at Bob so she gets revenge by singing Love, You Didn’t Do Right by Me wearing this fantastic black dress, and he happens to be in the audience.

Betty first sees Bob and she looks good.

The costumes were designed by Edith Head and that’s kinda amazing.

The last of Rosemary’s dresses I want to bring attention to is the green velvet cocktail dress she wears to the cast party.

Me when I hear family members say they have never seen White Christmas.

I love this dress so much.

If you know me you know I absolutely adore velvet, and this dress is such a dark green color it showed up black on my TV. I would love to own this dress I would wear it absolutely everywhere. I have never been in love with a dress like I am with this one.

Also one honorable mention to the General’s grand-daughter, she has some fantastic costumes too.

This is like the only picture of this dress on the internet, and I would wear this checked number everyday.

So pink and pretty.

It’s a pity that there isn’t more photos of Susan’s outfits out there, they are absolutely adorable and again I would wear these dresses all the time if I had them.

Now onto the plot, there are two things I don’t like, and they are 1) the weird choreography scene and 2) Bing seemed a little old for Rosemary Clooney.

What is going on.

So, why is choreography part of this movie? I know it’s part of their stage show but in the clip for the opening night it says they are doing a new musical like not one of their stage shows which I assume would have a variety of acts.

How are you a musical?

  This brings the question what in the world was that musical about? It had the choreography dance, minstrel show, and Bing wanted to add the blessings song to it, and then at the end of the play they sing White Christmas dressed like Santa? Like what in the world was the plot to that? Is Vera-Ellen’s character in the play “Playing Around” called Mandy, and also was in the army, doesn’t like choreography and is also Mrs. Claus? Why are there two Santas? How does any of this connect? It will probably forever remain a mystery. 

Now onto Bing and Rosemary, when filming White Christmas Bing Crosby was 51 years old and Rosemary Clooney was 26. That’s a bigger age gap than what’s between me and my parents, he was old enough to be her father. You can tell he’s quite a bit older and I guess they had to find a girl who could realistically have nine children for Bob. You can really tell the age difference in the sandwich scene, Bing feels more like a father figure than a romantic interest. Yeah they do look kinda cute together but Rosemary should have gotten together with one of her backup dancers from the Carousel Club. Also Rosemary’s haircut ages her a little bit and I noticed if you look at posters from the movie they make Bing look younger than what he is. I will also point out Audrey Hepburn was also cast with much older men, like Humphrey Bogart in Sabrina, Fred Astaire in Funny Face, and even Cary Grant in Charade all around the same time as White Chrismtas, so this kinda casting wasn’t new and still happens.

The guy Rosemary should have gotten with.

He looks so old especially compared to the backup dancer above him. 

Another thing I noticed this time is that they unceremoniously get rid of who I assume is Danny Kaye’s girlfriend from the beginning of the movie. In the beginning he wants to take this girl who’s name I cannot remember on a double date, with Bing and another one of the show girls. Then Bing says something to Danny Kaye about him and the one girl throwing girls at him. Even if it’s just casual Danny Kaye up and follows the Haynes sisters to Vermont with out even letting the other girl it’s over. Then he gets fake engaged to Vera-Ellen and tells her he’s afraid of commitment and then really falls in love with her. I’m just saying that Rosemary Clooney was probably not the only one upset at their engagement.

He’s gonna flake on you Vera-Ellen.

Two more points… 1) Why in the world did Bing get the mail for the General while at the Inn, like why did you do that, you do not live there! That part really bothered me this time watching it. 2) you should check out Seth MacFarlane singing Snow it’s pretty good, and he’s one of my absolute favorite singers.

I still love this movie, how can you not love a movie with fantastic dresses, Bing Crosby, and a Christmas setting? It’s been a staple of my Christmas viewing since high school. All of the plot points I don’t like aside this movie’s really good, if you love candy colored Christmas musicals this is for you.

See you tomorrow, hopefully earlier in the day, we’re halfway done with the twelve days of Christmas!

–Alyssa–

  On the Sixth Day of Christmas… My true love gave to me... my thoughts on White Christmas.  I love White Christmas it's one of my favorite movies.