#dann why they named shit like this

[yumeyumeappleo]

found my spirit animal btw

[emeraldbabygirl]

I don’t know what a xeed is (I do actually I know it’s a new boy group) but once I saw a gifset of a member wearing Junghyun’s “don’t burn our future” sweater and I thought he was Chenle. I think his name is Bao and the Jaemin member that I thought was Bao reminds me of Rano? Mayhaps.

Anyway why do kpop fans, some not all, get like legit p-oed when you say an idol or like a person of East Asian decent looks like or reminds them of another idol. Like it’s not the worst thing in the world. I often see people specifically on tiktok or other idols that have certain facial features or an expression they make that reminds me of an idol. Like there’s this guy who I think was part of South Star Boys and he always wears a face mask but when I see his eyes, and this is not one of those “that’s cause all Asian eyes look the same” bs that a lot of people will claim I am pulling, but it’s the way his eyes have this look, this bold stare to them, paired with the way he often styles his hair reminds me of Dann from Kingdom. And just today I saw a lady who looked similar to Alexa in the eyes and the cheeks but a sad version? And I assumed she was German but I don’t know. Yeah some people I guess I can understand cause they will like drag someone’s look to the ground because they look like an idol and they don’t stop bringing it up in every video and that is annoying or maybe one person sees a similarity and no one else does so they give that person shit but I don’t see anything genuinely wrong with looking at someone, anyone for that matter and seeing similarities between them and someone else. Minji from New Jeans reminds me a little bit of Jehyun from Omega x, I saw a few photos and I could see it a little bit, my sister thinks Ryan from North Star Boys looks like Taehyung and I’ve seen some of the expressions he makes or the way he talks reminds me of Keanu Reeves in Bill & Ted. When I first got into kpop I would very often compare idols to other idols, sometimes I would get them mixed up because they looked similar to me and then after learning their names and seeing them more I was able to tell the difference and I stopped comparing them. Anyway just some random thoughts.

[defilerwyrm]

⭐️ Bei Mir Bist Du Schön

FIC SPOILERS AHEAD!

Bei Mir Bist Du Schön on AO3

He opened his mouth to thank Essek but what came out instead was, “Deine Augen sind wunderschön.”

Essek stared at him, perfectly neutral save for the subtle rise of stark white eyebrows. “I don’t speak Zemnian,” he said, flashing his customary, placid little smile.

This is early Essek, well before c2e097, so this is a fully calculated move. That stare is him running simulations in his head, as it were, weighing his options, and he finally decides that he can learn more about Caleb if the guy thinks he doesn’t understand these little asides.

And boy did he ever just learn something juicy.

The second time, he was feeling petulant. Essek was normally a very patient and talented teacher, but there came a time when they butted heads over the best way to work a spell: Essek’s experience and Caleb’s contradicted each other, and neither was willing to admit that he was wrong because they weren’t. Caleb couldn’t have said why they were getting spirited over it. It was unlike them to lock horns this way, and the condescension chafed fiercely.

To my understanding, Wildemount never—at least post-Calamity—had a continent-spanning culture like the Roman Empire that would standardize learning across regions, and the Empire and Dynasty have utterly lacked in cultural exchange pretty much throughout their histories; so I reason that their approach to magic must be very damn different right down to the fundamentals. But, I also reason, magic is like math, in that there’s more than one way to come to a given conclusion—so the same spell cast by an Imperial mage might use different theory and somatic/verbal components with the same results.

I love fic that plays homage to cultural differences, so I figured that there must surely come a point where Caleb and Essek quibble about how to do a thing, with the crux being that they’re both right.

In a fit of pique, he muttered, “Du hast Glück, dass du abartig schön bist, denn du bist so ein Arsch.”

Essek’s head whipped up so fast that, for a moment, Caleb thought maybe he understood after all—but Essek just squinted at him without recognition and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Essek’s poker face is doing triple duty here because Caleb just said he’s hot af but also a dick, and this isn’t a sentiment Essek hasn’t heard before, but it hasn’t really gotten under his skin like it does this time.

Caleb passed a hand over his face and scratched at the beard he desperately needed to shave off. “Nothing,” he lied, “just annoyed with myself. This should be a moment of discovery, now that we know this can go either way. A door has unlocked and we’re both pulling it shut. Can we start again?”

The slip, and Essek’s reaction to it, made Caleb realize that they were both being dillweeds about the whole thing and it wasn’t going to move them forward at all.

It was—of course, of fucking course the intonation mattered. “A tonal shift,” he breathed. He took Essek by the lapels of his robe and shook him gently, and blurted out, “Ich könnte dein Gehirn küssen und dann deinen Mund.”

“What the hell is going on,” Nott squeaked at the same time as Essek chuckled almost nervously, “Caleb, I don’t—”

Hot boi damn near let the cat out of the bag right here. It’s certainly not that he specifically did not want to be smooched at all, but more that 1) Nott was RIGHT THERE so it would be mortifying, 2) he’s still very D: about physical contact and this point, and 3) he’s still very privately going “fuck fuck fuck WHY a HUMAN” about his own attraction to Caleb. There is very much a part of him that Wants That, but the rest of him is just not coping with it at all just yet.

The following morning, though, all he could think about was Dein Bett wäre besser and Essek’s careful fingers touching his face.

Both of them are fully mortified with themselves. They’re ridiculous. I see Caleb heading back to the Xhorhaus with shoulders bunched up, brow furrowed, and wide eyes glued to his own feet as his brain screams “DEIN BETT WÄRE BESSER” at him, mockingly, over and over. Slipping up and confessing your attraction to your crush is relatably horrifying (gods, I’ve been there, it’s awful) and Caleb is predisposed to beat himself up to begin with. Add in the rest of the party making a big deal over the fact that he spent the night over at Essek’s towers and you’ve got an abject storm in that little ginger head of his.

It did not help matters that no matter how much he insisted that nothing happened, the Mighty Nein were dead set on believing that he’d slept with his mentor, and they spent the next three days teasing him about it, none of them aware that he was simultaneously tormenting himself.

Okay so I try to be good and not talk shit about my own work these days, but that sentence just landed in a belly flop for me. I’m not sure it actually gets across what I’d meant, which was that Caleb was beating himself up for a different reason than what they all thought.

In the midst of a messy ambush by three of the wolf-cat eye-beasts, one of them managed to get the drop on Caleb, and it pinned him, screaming, to the ground. Its claws dug fiery punctures into either side of his chest. He thrashed, trying to get both hands up to cast, but it would be too late—his reflexes weren’t good enough. His body had never been nearly as sharp as his mind, and he was about to pay the price in the form of massive, dagger-like fangs lunging towards his throat. He screamed again, chest nearly frozen with fear, when—

Adventurers are generally made of tough stock, but I really wanted to dig into the POV of someone who’s being attacked by a terrifying cerature intent on ripping them apart. “You take 12 piercing damage and are knocked prone” is mechanical and dry; I wanted to show the full in-character implications of those mechanics.

Another fic that represents game mechanics narratively to absolutely stunning affect is Hard Mouth by road_rhythm, which I cannot recommend highly enough. I wrote Bei Mir before Hard Mouth started posting but had it been the other way around, it 100% would have been an inspiration in that regard.

He could not help but murmur, “Götter, ich bins so verschossen in dich.”

Fun fact: I got myself the book Talking Dirty German specifically for writing Caleb dialogue, and it really came in handy here. This idiom is from that book, as did abartig schön. The literal translation is “Gods, I am so shot into you,” which coming to think of it sounds a wee bit dirty but is figuratively very sappy.

Speaking of sappy….

“Das Gefühl ist Gegenseitig,” came the warm and sleepy reply.

Part of this is Essek being barely-conscious, but the bulk of it is this—and this is basically giving away the whole way the fic progresses: pretending not to know Zemnian began as a manipulation tactic to get intel, then became a game of “Let’s see how long it takes you to figure this out, smart boy” as their bond grew and Essek stopped deliberately trying to throw Caleb off, and finally when they were a couple he figured it would be cruel and pointless to keep up the ruse, especially since he’d been growing to appreciate pet names in their mother tongues.

Caleb took a deep breath, set his tea aside, and launched himself at Essek, who yelped, laughing, and danced out of his grasp. Essek led him on a merry chase around the kitchen and held out as long as he could before crying mercy at Caleb’s vicious tickling.

You know, I probably shouldn’t point this out in case my readers hadn’t cottoned onto it yet either, but it wasn’t until like a week after publishing this that I stopped and thought, “WTF happened to Essek’s teacup? Did he take the time to set it down? Did it get dropped and shatter? Did he show off and levitate it?? Did he bring it with him and get tea all over the place and himself?!” Smh…. Choose your own explanation, I guess, lmao.

The rolls were a little burnt that morning, but Caleb had no regrets.

Part of me feels like this is kind of a weak ending, but I justify it to myself by remembering how hard Caleb regretted his slip-ups over the course of the fic. He spends a good bit of copy beating himself up over them, so ultimately I think it fits, even if it kinda lacks punch.

[joshstambourine]

Lover, Leaver Pt. 1

"Ooooooh, I love your music ask idea... could you do a Lover, Leaver one with Danny? 👀" - @anditsmywholeheart

Okay. So.

I probably took this in a total different direction than you were imagining @anditsmywholeheart , hopefully you still like it 💜

I fought myself for a long while which way to go with this song prompt as the tune is so rock and roll, so at first I thought something fun and gritty but... the lyrics for this song give me such mythical vibes!

So I opted to go for something magical and fantasy based (this decision may or may not have have been swayed by my playing a shit tonne of Witcher recently. As well as helping my S/O with his D&D Campaign.)

Annnnnd surprise this one is not going to stay a one shot either! You guys are getting a magical series hurray!

Warnings: Cursing, Slightly NSFW

Word Count: 2891

Paladin!Danny × Sorceress!Reader

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

The cold wind whistled over the heights of the keep. It was so crisp. Danny’s eyes drifted over the edge of the thick stone rail of the tower, snow beginning to dance down from the dark gray sky. Danny was fully aware of what was coming, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the kind of trouble that was coming towards him now with full speed.

Danny’s eyes were unmoving, locked on the horizon now. “Are you cold?” He soon let out, to the woman sitting on the ledge beside him. Or, I suppose I should say hovering over the ledge.

(Y/N) began to shake her head slowly, “Danny.. I can’t feel it…” She simply responds, her words taking to the air in a puff of curling mist. Many sorceresses like (Y/N) went through rigorous training so as to be unbothered by even the most extreme temperatures.

Danny was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the hanging bits of Danny’s chainmail clinking against his plate armor. “Ah… I almost always forget.” He admits with a weak laugh, his gaze fell upon her now.

He couldn’t help but stare as her hair was tousled in the cold wind, it was almost a strong enough wind to pick up the end of her heavy velveteen cloak and toss it up into the air. As long as Danny had known (Y/N), she had always been rather… stoic? That wasn’t quite the word. Perhaps simply serious was a better word. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, most mages and sorcerers had to go through many horrendous trials to be able to hold any place in the magic practicing society. Not to mention the amount of witch hunters roaming the land and pouncing on any person who practiced magic.

(Y/N)’s seriousness didn’t deter Danny, nor would it cause his affections to wain. The moment Danny had laid eyes on her… he had known.

Danny could almost hear the sound of the band playing again now. With a small blink of his eyes he was back in The Royal Curtain.

He was surrounded by happy music, and much happier people. Many were drunk out of their skulls, but of course that came with the territory. But these people were happy for reasons aside from just alcohol and good music; this tavern in particular was very well hidden, actually being in the cobblestone basement of the building. That meant, it was a safe haven for those who practiced magic as well as any who were nonhuman. There were many outlanders present here throughout the day: elves, dwarves, halflings, even a few lizard folk, the list went on and on.

The Royal Curtain was a place for people to just let their hair down and enjoy themselves for once without being spit at or much worse.

Places like the Royal Curtain also meant business for people like Danny; there were so many people wronged by others here, people who weren't protected from the monsters that were all around, and people who just needed help settling somewhere safe. This was the place he loved to be, a place where he could use his abilities and frankly his humanity for good.

Danny shuffled through the crowd, a smile always being clad on his features. He just couldn't help it when he came here. These folk deserved to be happy for a while.

He broke his way through the crowd and came to find a seat at the bar.

"Ah! Danny! What have we done to deserve this pleasure?" Inquired a tall woman from behind the counter, her skin white as a sheet, eyes a bland shade of gray. "Here to enjoy yourself for once?" She continued with a sly smile, long white curls falling around her paper thin figure.

Danny softly laughed, waving it off, "No, no, just business as usual, Nil." He explains.

Nil frowned a little, "You're going to work yourself to death you know." She tells him, beginning to reach for a glass. Nil was a part owner of this establishment, she worked at the bar in the basement while her partner tended to the upstairs level.

Nil was a being known as a changeling - a race that looked like it was created by someone who had a human’s likeness described to them but had never actually had seen one. They had no distinct features; skin, hair, eyes, they all were some shade of grey or a colour that was drained of most of its pigment. This of course, was for a reason. Changeling’s had the ability to change shape at will, and tend to have to learn to lie their way through their lives to survive; because of this most people assume that they are criminally inclined, which is almost never the case.

"At least it would be for a good cause." Danny cheerfully says, watching her as she poured him his usual glass of Fire Brandy.

Nil wore a warm smile, "We appreciate all the effort you put in. Honestly." She continues in a loving tone. She meant it, and Danny was well aware of this.

Nil had done many things herself in the name of protecting magic users and nonhumans. In fact she had led many revolts in her life. However, Nil was now a mother and certainly couldn't be expected to to stick her neck out as often as she had when she was young. Which meant people like Danny needed to step up, pick up the slack.

“So?” He lightly asked, hand taking the glass between his finger tips. “Anything…?” Danny continued, if anyone was going to know if someone needed help or something was happening, it was going to be Nil.

Nil lips pursed a little as she looked around the room, seeming to be thinking. Danny took notice of her hands, covered in scars and surprisingly rather bejeweled - a ring with the crest of a royal house on her hand, an odd thing seeing as she had never been much more than a street urchin. Danny never had the courage to ask Nil why she had the ring in all the time he had known her, he didn’t know if he would ever find out frankly.

“I know there is a family of dwarves needing an escort…” Nil lightly begins, “But… I don’t suppose you want to run the risk of having the guard notice your frequent travel out of the city lines…” She utters to herself, before biting her lip. “There is something actually.” She admits.

Danny leaned forward against the bar, taking another sip of the brandy. “Something?” He inquired,

Nil nodded, “It’s… not something I would normally expect you to get involved with. Sam is normally who I’d reach out to… he’s better with the arcane but…” She slowly muttered,

“I know… I still don’t know where he is Nil.” Danny lets out. Sam, a fellow clan member and friend had gone missing in the weeks previous. No one knew where he went, just that he left behind some form of note… all in the dead language. To this moment Sam’s brothers had been trying to find someone to decipher it, but it so far had been no use.

Nil frowns a little, knowing how important Sam was to him, but she continued on. “There is a Sorceress here somewhere. She is looking for help to find something... an artifact of some sort.”

Danny immediately grimaced, “Agh… Nil, you know I don’t get involved with that kind of bull---” He sighs, having already done too many errands for wizards promising to pay him a reward to fetch “a simple artifact”... it was always more work than it was worth. He had yet to meet a Wizard that didn’t short change him and proceed to complain about the “dings” on the item in question, as if it hadn’t existed for thousands of years before Danny came along.

Nil shook her head a bit, knowing how he felt about tasks like this. “I’m aware, but, I have been led to believe that this is different.” She continued, “Just help with hunting down some fellow sorcerers and getting more information. She had come in to ask if I knew a Vitalis Kein---” Nil explained, seeming to slow when it came to the name.

“And? Do you…?” Danny inquired with a perked brow, it was something about the way she had said the name, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Nil was quick to shake her head, “Not a clue. I have never had anyone by that name come through the inn.” She admits suddenly seeming at ease once again.

Perhaps Danny had imagined the little waver in her voice? He shrugged it off into the back recesses of his mind, ‘It was nothing I’m sure.’ He tells himself, hand moving to push back the few curly pieces of hair that had fallen from the ribbon holding his hair in place. “Is she still here?” He inquired,

“Upstairs I believe, Helgrim will know the room.” Nil says, lightly moving to refill a few tankards that had been slammed down on the bar.

Danny tossed back the rest of his brandy and began to stand, pulling a few coins from his satchel. “Thanks Nil.” He smiles,

“Come see me again soon! You still owe Syl a sword lesson.” She hummed, with a wide smile. Syl was her daughter, the girl was barely four years old but had a fire for swordsmanship.

“Tell her I’ll be her next week okay?” He laughed lightly.

Danny walked down the long hallway in the inn, searching for a room that was tucked in the far back corner, close to the back exit for obvious reasons. Those obvious reasons being that it was an easy escape incase of a raid. Danny’s armor rattled with each step he took, it was surprising just how quickly you could drown out a noise when it became part of your everyday life.

Finally he had found the door to the room; it was strange… the few steps that were closest to the door Danny had begun to notice the air get heavy. A soft… tingle? Yes, a tingle, running up and down his spine. His lips parted, ‘Magic?’ Danny thought to himself, recognizing the feeling. ‘She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be exuding so much here could she…?’

As his fingertips touched the door handle soft purple sparks climbed his fingers, they burned as they climbed to his knuckles. Quickly Danny recoiled his hand; his eyes watching as purple runes sizzled and glowed in the wood of the door.

‘Fuck--- a protection spell.’ Danny thought, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the door, that burn was a warning --- any use of force and he would more than likely be shot through the wall due to the reverb… he had learned from experience. Sam had once cast protection on his bedroom door… it wasn’t a fun time for anyone.

With a huff, Danny moved to begin digging through his satchel. Eventually tugging free a yellow crystal, holding it tight he moved it closer to the door --- within an instant it began to glow. He brought a second hand up, with both hands he moved the crystal to draw opposing runes in the air. As he did so the air got heavier and heavier, more electricity rising before---

CRACK!

The crystal shattered in his hands. However, the door had creaked open without any further opposition. With magic, things always came at a cost. You couldn’t expect something without giving nothing. Carefully Danny began to skulk forward, pushing the door open, it was dark in the room… pitch black almost.

Danny could see billows of mist brushing by his feet, he looked at it curiously. Hand reaching back for his sword with uncertainty, “Hello…?” He called, his voice echoed back as if the room went on forever. Danny’s fingers began to clutch at the hilt of his blade, eyes moving over the darkness keenly. Every step he took into the room he could feel the air get heavier and heavier, and… oddly enough to smell more and more like flowers. “Hello…?!” He called again a little louder, voice seeming to echo even farther.

A loud crack made him jump, quickly looking behind him to see that the door had slammed shut behind him. Danny felt his eyes widen as he quickly began to make his way back toward it, he only made it a few steps before he heard her.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A woman's voice echoed at first not seeming to have any particular location, almost rattling through his head more than anything. Danny didn’t know where to look, his lips parting unsure what to say, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Said the voice again, this time right by his ear.

Danny spun around, eyes wide with disbelief when he found himself staring at a now sunny space full of flowers, it… was almost a greenhouse or royal garden, but something about it told him that wasn’t quite it. As he looked up there was no glass ceiling… and no sun either, just a black sky full of stars. And yet this space was filled with bright and beautiful daylight, it causing the dew on the plants to glisten.

Danny looked back behind him but only found more shrubbery and flowers growing wildly; nervously he began to take steps forward. Danny had no idea where he was going, or where he was even… only that there were flowers of every sort and shape. Danny could hear the fine gravel under his boots crunch with each step, it was a change from the creaking floorboards of the inn.

A small purple butterfly took to the air as Danny passed, fluttering ahead of him softly. Danny watched it curiously, noticing that it seemed to fly in one spot for a time as if it was waiting for him to follow. Danny eventually did so, eyes staying open to anything that could happen. ‘I hate sorcerers.’ He thinks to himself, being all too aware of the kind of things they pulled to show their “unimaginable power”. It didn’t impress Danny in the slightest.

The butterfly made a few brisk turns, leading him down many paths until they came to a space where falling water could be heard. As soon as the sound was able to be heard the butterfly disappeared into purple mist; Danny could only sigh and shake his head. Everything here was most likely an illusion of some sort, many magic users created something of… a study den if you will. A place where they felt safe to practice their magic, though this place was all in their imagination… part of a meditation.

Danny continued forward to find a pond with a small fresh water waterfall running into it. “It’s about time.” The woman’s voice spoke again, as his eyes came to meet the owner his cheeks immediately turned a fiery red. Danny was quick to lift his eyes skyward; the woman before him stepped out of the water completely naked without any shame.

“Ah-- a shy one I see.” She uttered out loud, pulling her fingers through her wet hair.

“Not at all, just… a gentleman.” Danny responded, not wanting to look down at her until she was fully clothed.

“A gentleman would have knocked before entering my chambers.” She responded, with a subtle grin.

“I would have knocked, but I know better than to even flick a protected door.” He tells her, it was a strange feeling having his eyes upward. As a general rule Danny thought it safer to always keep his eyes on people he wasn’t sure could be trusted, somehow though, looking away from her came instinctually.

“Fair,” She utters, taking a seat on a large stone by the water. She didn’t seem inclined to put on any clothing at all, exuding all the confidence in the world. “Good god man, you can look at me. I won’t bite.” She tells him.

Danny struggled to lower his gaze back to her figure, “Just--- can you put on a towel or something? Please?” He responded,

“You realize this is my realm, I don’t have to do anything you ask me to.” The woman tells him seriously, “In fact I could have removed your clothing if that was my intention.” She admits, arms folded, but abiding by his request. She moved to place a loose robe over her shoulders.

“Now tell me. Are you here to help me Danny?” She inquires, not bothering to tie the ribbon around the waist.

Danny cleared his throat as his gaze finally came upon her, “I… well I came here to get more information.” He tells her, eyes lingering a little on her facial features. It was true what they said about sorceresses… they were always enchantingly beautiful. Danny almost fell into a dream-like state looking into her eyes, “Like… what you’re doing here in a city that wants your kind dead first off.” He finally continues.

“Oh,” She hummed, “Nil didn’t tell you?” She says, no expression coming to her features. She slowly locking eyes with him,

“...I’m going to kill the King.” She says.

//So this was incredibly fun to write. I just got so freaking lost in it. It's up to you guys if you want me to do a separate fic series following the Kiszka brothers as this one is just Danny for now! If so, leave me some ideas for what race or role yall think they would have!

Fun fact is actually a character I play in a D&D session my S/O runs! You'll definitely get more information about her as the story continues on.//

[nashibirne]

Against all odds- 2.16

I have not updated the story in a while. There was not much feedback on the last chapters (thanks a lot to the few people who commented, repostet or liked anyway! I really appreciate this!) and I wasn’t sure if it makes sense to post new chapters...

But I’m going to post them anyway. They’re written and there are a few people who like the story...so here we go.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x ofc Summary: Anna and Henry go on with their relationship and face some problems Warnings: NO BETA! So maybe...bad english

Tags: @hell1129-blog @willkatfanfromasia @mis-lil-red

Previous Parts:

2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 2.6 2.7 2.8 2.9  2.10 2.11/2.12 2.13  2.14

The morning was beautiful, the sun shining bright, the clear blue sky only dotted with a few small clouds, looking like fluffy cotton balls. Anna and Henry were walking the dogs like they used to do, but holding hands now. They were still on cloud nine and so was anyone around them.

Anna's uncles were genuinely happy for them, welcoming Henry to the family so warm-heartedly that all his worries that George would consider him not appropriate for his niece were gone. Milton Arnold, Viscount Brankhurst in person, got his phone number from Anna and called him to congratulate him on the good catch he had made with her. Of course he didn't forget to mention that he would come all the way from Yorkshire to beat the shit out of Henry if he would ever hurt his little angel. He met her twin brother Jonas and his wife Julia via Skype and they made it easy for him to feel sincerely accepted from the very first moment. He got along with them right away and especially Jonas and him had a lot in common -turned out he was a pc nerd too- so that they soon started to exchange about games and pc building regularly.

Lestat however remained a silent shadow, refusing to comment on or communicate with Anna's new boyfriend, never attending their Skype sessions with Jo and Jules.

Henry's family was enormously pleased to hear about his new girlfriend too. Neither his parents nor his brothers were surprised when he told them the news. "Finally" his mother said. "I knew you are helplessly in love with this woman."

"How's that?" Henry wanted to know.

"Darling, the last time you visited us you were talking about her non-stop. "For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of" his mother quoted Saint Luke's gospel. "And the way you talked about her was so warm, loving and caring. It was self-explanatory." she added.

"Was I really that obvious?"

"Yes, even your father got it right away and your brothers kept making fun of you behind your back but you didn't notice because you were too busy checking your smartphone to make sure you wouldn't miss any text from her." Her warm laughter made him smile. "Like a teenager in love. I've never seen you like this before, Henry. We're all very very happy for you." she added. "And of course we're looking forward to meeting Anna as soon as possible."

Henry told Anna about this conversation, carefully putting out some feelers about her opinion on meeting his parents.

"So what do you think, babe?"

"About what?"

"About meeting my parents when they come here for the Macbeth premiere. Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm sorry. That sounds great."

"Are you all right, princess?" he asked, sounding worried.

"Yes. Sure. I'm fine." Anna gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Babe, don't do this to me. You seem off today, completely lost in thought, so don't tell me you're fine when you're obviously not."

Henry stopped in his tracks.

"What's going on in your beautiful head?"

Anna looked at him, a sad smile on her lips.

"It's just.... today's the anniversary of the car accident...of our parent's death. It just feels strange to be alone on this day."

"I'm sorry, Babe." Henry kissed her gently, hugging her tightly then. "But you are not alone." he whispered in her ear.

"I know, Darling." Anna mumbled into his neck. "I know you're there for me. That's not what I meant."

Anna took his hand, walking on.

"I'm just not used to spending this day without Jonas and...the rest of the bunch." she explained.

"Rest of the bunch meaning Lestat, I guess. You don't have to avoid mentioning him. It's okay."

Anna looked at him sheepishly. "Well, Jonas called me before our walk. It was good to hear his voice. We're going to skype tonight, doing our little anniversary rituals online."

"What kind of rituals?"

"Nothing special. We read out the bedtime stories they used to tell us to each other and we play some of their favorite pieces of music on the piano. And we just chat about them a little, keeping the memories alive."

Her voice was trembling now, her eyes glistening.

"I'm sorry, this is silly. It's been 24 years and I still can't get my act together." Anna wiped her eyes trying to smile.

Henry felt helpless, searching for the right words to make her feel better.

"Anna, you're not being silly, its..."

The ringing of her phone interrupted Henry's desperate attempt to say something useful.

"It's Lestat."

"You should answer." Henry gave her an encouraging smile.

Anna pressed the green button to take the call. She stayed right beside him making him overhear their conversation. It wasn't in english of course but Henry could tell what was going on anyway by the look on Anna's face and his smattering of german.

"Hey."

"Guten Morgen. Wie geht's dir?"

"Ganz gut so weit. Ich habe heute früh schon mit Jonas telefoniert."

Anna's smile was cracked.

"Ich weiß. Das ist gut. Ich wollte dir auch nur sagen, dass ich an dich denke. Ich war auf dem Friedhof und habe die Rosen auf's Grab gelegt. Ich habe auch das Gedicht gesprochen."

Henry didn't really get that part. Something about roses and a poem.

"Du weißt sie fehlen mir auch, oder? Sie waren wie zweite Eltern für mich... Und ich weiß wie schwer der Tag für dich ist. Ich wäre heute wirklich gerne bei dir." Lestat's voice was soft and full of sadness.

"Ich weiß." Anna was obviously moved by her ex's words, pressing her lips together to hold back tears.

"Danke, Lestat." Her voice was thick now, her eyes swimming.

"Du hältst den Kopf oben, okay? Heute Abend skpen wir und weinen alle zusammen und dann geht es uns besser."

Henry hated his familiar tone and the naturalness of his words. They were proof of the deep connection between this man, who still was a mystery to him, and his girlfriend. Lestat didn't struggle with finding the right things to say and he wasn't nearly finished.

"Ich vermisse dich, cherie."

Henry's german was good enough to get that. This prick had just told her that he missed her, using a sweet french pet name. He felt his whole body tighten with anger and jealousy.

"Lestat...lass es." Anna's tone was tense now.

"Sorry. Aber du weißt es stimmt. Du fehlst mir. Mehr als du ahnst. Es hat sich nichts geändert. Ich liebe dich."

Henry was about to freak out now. He knew exactly what "ich liebe dich" meant. Anna told him she loved him in her mother tongue often. He briefly considered to grab her phone and tell this asshole to fuck off and leave his woman alone but he knew he had no right to do so.

"Hör auf mit dem Scheiß, Lestat. Danke für den Anruf aber ich lege jetzt auf." It seemed Anna was just as pissed as Henry.

"Es tut mir leid, Anna."

"Mach's gut Lestat."

She touched the red button ending the call stuffing the phone in her pocket.

She looked flushed and angry when she turned around taking him by the hands.

"I'm sorry, Darling."

"It's not your fault." Henry tucked one of her curls behind her ear, a tender smile on his lips. "Lestat is the problem. He's just told you he loves you."

"Yes and that's so typically him. Doing something genuinely nice like putting roses on our parent's grave and reading the poem we recite there every year and then he ruins everything by talking bullshit."

"Bullshit? You don't think he still loves you?"

"I think Lestat first and foremost loves himself. And he hates the thought that I love you now. That's why he tries to interfere with shit like that."

"It's up to us not to let him interfere."

"I know. It just makes me angry. I thought we were through with this. But I guess being replaced by a man like you makes him feel inferior and this is something he absolutely can't stand."

"A man like me?" Henry raised one eyebrow.

"Well...you know. More successful than him, more popular, more interesting, richer, hotter...."

"Hotter, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean...sexiest man alive...he can't keep up with that." she grinned.

"I haven't been 'Sexiest man alive' yet." Henry smirked.

"To me you are." Anna kissed him. "I love you, Cavill. Never doubt that, okay?"

"Why would I doubt it?"

"I don't know. I just have a feeling that Lestat isn't done yet. One day you're going to meet him and then...." she shrugged not finishing what she was about to say.

*******************************

Hope you liked this part! And I hope including some german worked...

[liebegott]

Passing Cars. | Joe Liebgott

as requested by lia_hale_ on wattpad

(click here to read on wattpad)

feel free to send me a request!

pairing: n/a

wc: 1.5k

synopsis: easy goes to liberate the women’s camp in landsberg.

a/n: she had requested a fic based upon the liberation of the landsberg camps in episode 9. this fic is entirely in liebgott’s pov. in no way, shape, or form am i belittling the experiences of the men. i’ll never know what impact finding those camps had on them.

i’m sorry in advance if this has offended anyone. any thoughts or feedback would be much appreciated. ++ i used almost all my german for this fic plus some help from my dad, so sorry if i butchered anything or got stuff wrong. i’m not fluent 😓 

i hope you enjoy this one! thank you for reading.

i mean no disrespect to the real joseph liebgott. this is all purely based on ross mccall’s portrayal of him in band of brothers.

tagging: @floydtab​ @alienoresimagines​ @order-of-river-phoenix​ @julianneday1701​ @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​ @wexhappyxfew​ @rarmiitage​ @mavysnavy​ @punkgeekchic

***

Laying on a mattress that felt like clouds, your had your hands over your head to cover your eyes. “Germany might just be the best fuckin’ place we’ve ever been to,” you mumbled, nearly choking on the cigarette between your teeth, “No snow, no Krauts. Hitler shoulda shot himself ages ago.”

David looked up at you from the notebook in his hands, shrugging, “It really is, but there’s something definitely wrong about this place.”

“Aw, shit Web” you replied, tossing your helmet at him, “You’re just jumpy. We’ve had the best food we’ve eaten in months here.” David caught your helmet and set it beside him, ignoring your comments.

Returning to his notebook, you rolled your eyes at him and lay back down on your bed.

Suddenly, “Joe, Web,” a voice called, breathless, and you looked up to see Frank, “You two better get out here. We found something in the woods, and it’s crazy.”

David looked at you, an I-told-you-so look on his face, but the look on Frank’s meant it was serious. “What is it?” you asked as David handed you your helmet, and you flicked the cigarette to the floor.

“I,” Frank paused, trying to catch his breath, “I’m gonna be honest, I got no clue.”

***

When Frank said they had found something in the woods, what you saw was the furthest from what you had imagined. You couldn’t believe your eyes, and the first thing that hit all of you was the smell. What in heaven’s name happened here? You understood now why Frank was so jumpy. Turning to look at him, he had a terrified look on his face. In fact, everyone had it on their face.

You turned away, walking back slowly to the truck. All the men were gathered up in front of the gates, and on the other side, prisoners faced them, clinging to the gate like their lives depended on it. Prisoners? Was this a prisoner camp?

“Liebgott,” Lipton called for you, “Major needs you up front, right now.” You bit your lip and jogged towards Major Winters who was trying to speak to one of the prisoners. You began talking to the man, his frail form trembling in front of you.

“Was ist das für ein Camp?” you asked him, What kind of camp is this? The man responded with a word you didn’t know— Unerwunscht. “Unwanted, disliked maybe?” you said to Major Winters, whose eyebrows were furrowed.

“Criminals?” Major winters asked, and you asked the man in front of you in return.

“No,” you translated as the man spoke, “Doctors, musicians. Tailors, clerks. Farmers, intellectuals. I mean, normal people.”

“Juden,” the man cried, “Juden.” And your heart started beating in your ears, the air escaping your lungs.

“They’re Jews,” you mumble, fighting the thoughts that clouded in your head, “Poles and gypsies.” The man turned to the east, and pointed towards beyond the fence.

“Liebgott?” Major Winters asked, looking at you expectantly.

You sighed, biting down on your lip to control your emotions, “The women’s camp is at the next railroad stop.”

You stood there briefly, watching helplessly as the man knelt and cradled a body on the ground, cries escaping his lips. I can’t take this, you thought, quickly turned, heading back to the truck.

Crouched down behind the truck, your head in your hands, you wondered to yourself, What was so wrong with who they were? What was so wrong with who you were?

***

At the women’s camp, you never expected it to be worse. Again, the smell was overbearing, but your heart hurt so much you couldn’t move. You had cried in the truck on the way here, the men holding onto you so tightly, reminding you where you were.

“Hey, Web,” you said quietly, nudging him with the butt of your gun, your voice still hoarse, “I take back what I said. Germany is the fuckin’ worst.” David didn't say anything in response, and instead squeezed your shoulders tightly.

Stepping in, you nearly dropped your gun, your hands trembling. Women clung to you and all the other men as they swung open the gates, tears threatening to fall from your eyes again.

I can’t breathe, you thought to yourself, as thin hands gripped onto yours, and sobs filled the air. Major Winters spotted you, saw the look on your face, and instead called for Webster to translate. You gulped, prayed a silent thank you, quickly turning and walking away from everyone else.

Taking out a cigarette, you cried softly, your shoulders shaking. You couldn’t understand what was happening. Where the hell were you? We weren’t too far from the town. Why didn’t anyone say anything?

Suddenly, you heard a whimper from below you, and you looked down to see a young girl, her back against one of the huts. Her small frame was shivering in fear.

You tried approaching her slowly, crouching down to be eye level with her, but she quickly crawled away, fear taking hold of her body. The young girl grabbed at the ground and sobbed, shaking her head rapidly.

“Fuck,” you yelled, and she shuddered at the sound of your voice, startled. You bit down on your knuckles and released a whimpered cry, running a hand through your hair. At that, she stopped, and although her hands were bloody, she was no longer crying.

You sat across from her, a considerable amount of space between the two of you. She watched you lower yourself to the ground, her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes still wet. “Warum bist du hier?” Why are you here? you asked softly, raising both your hands to show her you weren’t holding anything.

The small girl didn’t reply at first, watching you cautiously, and you realised then how pale she was. You took out your canteen, poured a little water on the ground to show her, then slid it across the grass. She grabbed it so quickly it surprised you, and she hurriedly took in big gulps.

“Mama sagt, es ist, weil ich ein Jude bin,” was all she replied, wiping her mouth with her scarred arm. Mama says it’s because I’m a Jew.

“Du bist?” You are? you said, trying to plaster a fake smile on your face, “Ich bin auch.” I am too. The tremble in your voice had given away your facade.

She tilted her head at this and gently put down the now empty canteen. “Warum bist du dann in Uniform?” she answered, wiping her hands on her torn up shirt. Then why are you in uniform?

You stood, believing you had earned her trust, but at your movement, she once again began crying, crawling further from you. “Bitte verletz mich nicht,” she begged, her hands balled up into fists, her fingernails digging into her skin. Please don’t hurt me.

Standing above her, only then did you notice the bruises on her legs and around her neck. You shut your eyes tightly, taking deep breaths, and once again you backed away.

“Wie alt sind Sie?” How old are you? you asked, trying to steady your shaky voice, “Ich were rich night verletzen.” I’m not going to hurt you. You didn’t sit this time, anger clouding your brain.

“Ich bin elf,” she whispered, “Bitte nicht.” She was eleven, and you cursed under your breath. At eleven, you were throwing eggs at passing cars. At eleven, you were drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. But here she was, at eleven, begging you not to hurt her.

“I’m American,” you whispered softly to her in English, in hopes she would understand. Thankfully, she did, and the young girl slowly opened her eyes, allowing you to sit by her. Taking out bread from your bag, you handed it to her, and she devoured it hungrily.

As she ate beside you, you leaned your back on the hut she was perched by and watched as all the other women were being fed slowly.

“Ich möchte, dass du rich erinnerst,” I want you to remember, you said to her, and she looked at you with wide eyes, the bread in her hands already finished, “Es ist nichts falsch mit der Person, die du bist.” There is nothing wrong with the person you are. The young girl nodded slowly, and you stood, extending your arm to help her up.

As you both walked back towards the other women, hand-in-hand, you now fully understood the meaning behind all the sacrifice, the bloodshed, and the tears. You looked down at her, her hand still tightly wrapped around yours, so small and fragile, and yet so strong. She looked up at you and smiled. Despite everything, she still smiled.

Soon, she would be back to drawing with chalk on sidewalks, and throwing eggs at passing cars. And you were glad she could raise hell.

Countless men have lost their lives for that very reason.

[ghostsray]

Ch7: Second Chance

(this is a day late oops. but hey, it’s also longer than the previous chapters, so that ought to make up for that, right?)

(first - prev - next)

Niel coughed and waved the last wisps of green smoke away from his face. When his vision cleared, he looked around and saw himself standing in...exactly the same spot he had been in, inside the Fentons' laboratory. Something was off, though. Danny and Ellie were gone. There didn't seem to be any trace that Ellie had melted anywhere in the lab. The table they had landed on was placed against a different wall, and instead of work-in-progress weapons, it was covered with blueprints.

Niel frowned as he tried to recall what last happened. He had made a wish, and then a ghost...a wish-granting ghost? Niel had wished something about change, but that wasn't definite enough to inform him of what that ghost might have done. Then he turned around and saw the portal--or rather, where the portal should have been.

The frame was still there, but in place of the glowing green swirls was a gaping hole. Tangles of cables slithered along the base. Niel didn't even know the portal could be closed.

He wiped away the last tears from his face and furrowed his brows. So he made a wish about changing things...a ghost granted it...and now the portal was closed. That had to be related, right?

He heard footsteps descend the stairs, and he turned around and saw Danny frozen at the bottom, staring at him with wide eyes. Before Niel could say anything, Danny rushed to the nearest shelf and grabbed an ectogun, aiming it at Niel shakily.

"You--you're a g-ghost," Danny stammered.

Niel raised an eyebrow. "Um, yeah? It's me."

Danny looked confused. He didn't lower his weapon. "Ghosts--" he began, "ghosts are real?"

It was then that Niel finally noticed that something seemed different about Danny. He had less scars, less bags under his eyes, and...he was shorter? Vlad had designed his clones to be fourteen after the age he got Danny's DNA from, but by the time Niel was created, Danny was sixteen. He had always been a few inches taller than Niel due to the two extra years, but the Danny that stood before him now was the exact same height.

Blueprints, a closed portal, a younger Danny who didn't believe in ghosts...wait. Niel's stomach sank as he asked, "What year is it?"

Danny frowned, but then he said, "Oh, right. Ghosts come from different periods of time, right?"

He told him the date. It was two years ago.

Niel muttered a curse word under his breath. (It was harsher than Vlad's fake swears. The situation seemed appropriate.) He looked at Danny, who was still aiming that gun at him.

"Put that away," Niel said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Danny hesitated, but he didn't lower the gun. "My parents--"

"They told you that all ghosts are bad, right?" Danny looked surprised, but Niel rolled his eyes and continued, "You're probably thinking that I'm trying to trick you into trusting me or something."

"And you're not?"

"No! I just want to find a way back to the Ghost Zone." Maybe then, he could find that wish ghost and make her undo whatever she had done to bring him here.

"How did you even get here? The portal isn't finished yet," Danny pointed out.

"Natural portal," Niel lied. "It shut as soon as I came through. Are you sure this portal here can't work?"

Danny shook his head, then said, "My parents made it. Maybe they can find a way to--"

"No!" Niel interrupted. He did not want to deal with the famous ghost-hating Fenton couple. His exclamation startled Danny so much, the boy's finger squeezed around the trigger of his gun. A blast came out and shoved Niel onto the ground.

Danny dropped the gun in shock and covered his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said, then scrunched his face, as if wondering why he was apologizing to a ghost. Niel groaned. As he tried to push himself up, his hand screamed in pain, and he felt his ghost core pull away. Oh shit.

Danny recoiled as the rings of light spread across Niel. When Niel stood up again, fully human, Danny's jaw dropped.

"You look just like me," Danny said. "How...?"

Niel shrugged, then winced when his hand ached. Right. He'd forgotten that he broke a finger. Not to mention his burn from earlier...

"It's a long story," Niel said.

Danny must have noticed him wince, because his eyes travelled to Niel's hand. "Your fingers--"

Niel covered his injured hand. "They'll heal."

"You were just a ghost," Danny said dumbly. "And now..."

Niel shrugged again with one shoulder. "It's...a long story?"

Danny's face scrunched up, then stretched in surprise. "You asked me what date it was. And you look like me...Are you...me from the future?"

That was...a valid conclusion to jump to. "It's complicated," he answered. "Look, I just want to get to the Ghost Zone."

Danny's mouth moved wordlessly for a minute, and then he slowly slid down into a sitting position on the floor. "I think I need a moment to process this."

Niel tapped his foot impatiently. "Seriously?"

"Hey, I just found out that not only are ghosts real, but possibly time travel, too."

"You think that's bad? I'm the one who's stuck in the past, right after--" Niel clenched his jaw and swallowed. He couldn't just say 'right after I discovered that the guy who cloned me from you doesn't actually care about his kids' without delving into an explanation about the whole clone thing and why Vlad even wanted to clone Danny.

Danny looked up at Niel again and asked, "How did I become part ghost?"

"You part died, obviously."

"That doesn't make any sense. You can't be part dead."

"Yeah, well, you were. Or will be. You get what I mean." Niel shook his head and walked to where the empty portal frame stood. Something must have activated it in the future. He knew it had something to do with Danny gaining his powers, but he wasn't familiar with the details...

Danny stood up behind him. "Why don't you want Mom and Dad to help?"

"They're ghost hunters. I'm part ghost. Figure it out." His eyes traced the lines on the portal's sides. A few panels were sticking out, wires poking from beneath...

"But if you just explained things--"

For some reason, Niel felt a flare of anger in his chest, and he turned on Danny and snapped, "I'm sorry, who here is the half-ghost version of you from the future?"

He didn't know why he felt so angry at Danny, or why he was still pretending to be Danny from the future. Maybe he wanted him to hate his parents just like Niel hated Vlad. He knew that was despicable of him to wish for, but then again, he was raised by a supervillain.

Danny took a step back, watching Niel with crestfallen eyes. A heavy footstep descended on the stairs, grabbing both boys' attention. "Dann-o? Is that you?" a voice called out. It was Jack.

Danny looked back at Niel, but the other boy was gone. Truth was, Niel just turned himself invisible, but Danny didn't know that. He turned in place, trying fruitlessly to spot where Niel had went, when Jack's large form peeked into the lab. "There you are. What are you doing in the lab?"

Danny stammered and said, "Um--"

But Jack just grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, son. If you were curious about ghosts, all you had to do was ask! Just don't be alone in the lab next time, all right?"

"Duly noted," Danny replied.

Niel silently moved toward the lab's exit. He glared at the back of Jack's head as he went. A part of him hoped the man would feel his stare and grow unsettled, but Jack seemed unperturbed.

He swerved past Maddie on the stairs to avoid passing through her as she went to join her husband. Then he picked up speed once he reached the top and phased through the Fenton household's front door.

He wanted to run, as far away from Fentonworks as possible, except moving his arm sent jolts of pain through his hand and he wasn't in the mood for Naruto running, so instead he sat down on the sidewalk and sighed. Welp, he was in the past, before Danny ever gained his ghost powers. That was certainly one way to allow him to "change everything".

The Fenton portal didn't work. Niel hadn't learned how to summon his own portals yet, and he doubted a natural portal would conveniently open up. He wondered if maybe the wish ghost could still be in the human world--she granted this wish, so she must have allowed herself some leverage, right? Maybe he could summon her if he said her name three times, like that musical about a ghost he pirated online once. The problem was that he didn't know what the wish ghost's name was. He was pretty sure he heard about her before, but...ugh, why did his memory have to suck?

Niel's stomach sank as he realized there was only one portal left he could use, and to get to it, he had to go to Vlad's house. At this point of time, Vlad hadn't even met Danny yet. He hadn't begun working on creating a perfect clone. How would Niel feel if he saw him? The image of Vlad's bloodred eyes and glinting fangs snarling at him as he tried to protect Ellie's melting form was still fresh in his brain.

Niel trembled, but he knew he had no choice. He stood up and began walking toward the mayor's mansion. He went a few steps before he paused as a realization hit him.

Was Vlad even mayor yet? It was two years ago. Vlad, from Niel's time, had been mayor for one year. That means he wouldn't move to Amity Park yet until next year.

Great! Not even Vlad's portal was in Amity Park. Niel wasn't sure if that dissapointed or relieved him. He would have to travel all the way to Wisconsin if he wanted to reach the Ghost Zone.

So, his options were either to travel to another state, or go back into Fentonworks and try to open the portal while no one was looking. If Danny turned half ghost from opening the portal, what would happen to Niel, since he was already half ghost? Would he become full ghost, or would the action somehow reverse his genes and make him full human? No, wait, that second option makes no sense. He'd probably just die and go full ghost.

"Danny?" someone said. He looked up and saw Danny's sister, Jazz. She was holding a book from the library and staring at him with furrowed brows. Oh, crackers, was he visible? He glanced down at himself, and sure enough, he was there. Niel mentally berated himself. Losing his invisibility just because he lost concentration? He should have trained his powers better than that.

"What did you do to your hair?" Jazz asked.

Niel unconsciously touched the shaven part of his hair and said with a shrug, "Impulse?"

Jazz frowned. "Carrying out drastic impulses isn't always healthy. It could be a sign of poor psychological health."

Niel was about to wonder why she suddenly started speaking like an encyclopedia, then he read the cover of the book she was holding. A psychology book. So she's into mental health.

"It's fine," Niel mumbled and tried to walk past her, but Jazz grabbed his hand. Unfortunately, it was his injured one, and he hissed as she closed her palm around his fingers. Jazz widened her eyes when she noticed his injuries.

"How did you--nevermind, that's not important. Why did you not heal your hand after you burnt and broke it? We do have a first aid kit."

"It'll heal."

"On its own?"

Right. Humans didn't heal as well as half-ghosts. Jazz shifted her grip onto his wrist and started pulling him inside.

"Jazz, it's fine," he insisted, but she didn't listen. She opened the front door to Danny's house and grabbed him through. His anxiety spiked, and he turned his wrist intangible to slip through her grip. Jazz turned back in surprise when her hands became empty, but at that point, it was too late--they were standing inside the Fentons' living room, and staring at them with wide eyes were the Fentons themselves, Danny included.

"Jazz, sweetie, who is that?" Maddie asked, craning her neck to get a good look at Niel.

Jazz turned around to answer, but her words died in her throat when she spotted the real Danny. "What? How--"

Maddie and Jack saw Niel, and they pulled out their guns. "It's a ghost impersonator," Jack exclaimed.

"That's ridiculous," Jazz quickly argued, but she was scowling at Niel in confusion, trying to figure out how and why he looked so similar to her brother. "Who are you?"

The Fenton couple's weapons began to whir as they powered up, but Danny jumped in front of them and shouted, "Stop! He's me from a different time!"

Maddie frowned. "Are you saying he's a time traveller?"

Jack lowered his weapon and scratched his chin. "If ghosts are real, then why not time travel?"

"Well--" Maddie hesitated. "It's possible in theory, but..."

"None of this makes any sense!" Jazz interrupted, throwing her arms up. "Ghosts? Time travel? Look-alikes? What is going on?"

Niel stepped forward, and everyone quieted down to watch him with anticipation. "Maddie and Jack are right, actually," he said, then made his eyes flash red. "I am a ghost."

Maddie gripped her gun again, but Jazz protested, "You can't be a ghost, you're alive! I felt your pulse."

"He's part ghost," Danny murmured. Everyone but Niel turned to look at him.

"Part ghost? That's impossible," Maddie scoffed, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Of course you would say that." Niel glared at them with his red eyes and said, "You don't care about scientific discoveries. You only care about fitting the world into your narrow theories."

Maddie frowned, obviously not liking what he was saying. Niel didn't care. He tugged on his core, and the others in the room stepped back in shock as he transformed with a flash of light.

He waited for them to raise their weapons again, or shout out ghost insults. Instead, Jack broke the silence by saying, "That was incredible!"

Niel faltered. "It...was?"

"You were just human--and then you weren't. How did you do that?"

There was no malicious tone in Jack's voice. In fact, he sounded genuinely curious. Maddie nodded in agreement, her eyes wide with wonder.

Niel glanced between them, his brows drawn together. "You're not going to shoot me? Because I'm a ghost?"

"You said we don't care about scientific discoveries," Maddie said. "I don't know where you got that idea from. Of course we're intrigued by new discoveries. Danny said you were only part ghost, and Jazz confirmed this by saying you have a pulse, which ghosts cannot have. That must mean you really are a human-ghost hybrid--something we thought was impossible, but we were wrong."

"We want to know everything," Jack said excitedly, then quickly added, "without hurting you, of course."

"Of course not," Maddie agreed. "We're not that amoral. We would never hurt a person, even if they were only part person."

Niel felt like a rug was being pulled from underneath him...until he held onto that last sentence, and his expression returned to a scowl. "So you wouldn't have cared about what happened me if I was a full ghost?"

Maddie hesitated. She and Jack exchanged a glance.

"To be fair, we've only ever heard stories about ghosts," Jack admitted, "and those stories always portrayed them as evil, so that was what we assumed them to be..."

"But if we gain proof against that, then of course we'll change our minds," Maddie completed.

"Really?" Niel said skeptically. "You won't assume the ghost is only pretending to be nice to trick humans into trusting him?" That was what he had always heard the Fentons say about Phantom on the news. The couple shifted guiltily.

Jazz watched the exchange in quiet calculation. "Hold up, so," she said to Niel, "are you or are you not from the future?"

"I am," he answered, which wasn't a lie.

"Then, something must have happened in your time to make you so bitter toward our parents. Am I right?"

Maddie and Jack were watching him apprehensively. Niel frowned. "You thought your son's ghost form is evil."

"We would never think that about Danny!" Jack exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, Danny didn't tell you about his ghost half."

"Why not?" Maddie wondered.

Niel met Danny's eyes. He knew the same thought was going through their heads. Danny glanced away and fidgeted. "Because...you hate ghosts," Danny said.

Immediately, the couple's expressions morphed into guilt. "Oh, sweetie," Maddie said. "We would never hate you if you became a ghost."

"Of course not!" Jack agreed. "Ectoplasmic or not, you'll always be our son."

Danny looked up at them hopefully. "Really?"

"Really," Maddie promised. She smiled, and Danny smiled back. Both of them were suddenly swept up by Jack's burly arms into a hug, causing Danny to laugh.

"We'll always care for our family," Jack said, then gestured for Jazz and Niel to join in.

"And we're sorry," Maddie told Niel. "Really. For anything we might have done--er, will have done in the future."

Jazz's lips quirked upward, and she joined in her family group hug. Niel did not.

He stayed rooted in his spot, watching them, while something akin to panic rose inside him.

"No!" he exclaimed, surprising the family. "No, you're supposed to hate ghosts! You're supposed to hate me!"

"Scientists can be wrong," Maddie said, startled from his outburst. "Whatever we said, we can make it up to you."

Niel trembled. This was wrong. This was all wrong--the Fentons weren't supposed to be such great parents! And yet he couldn't deny the heartwarming scene in front of him. Maddie and Jack cared for their children...

...Vlad did not.

How ironic was that? Niel had spent so much time thinking that Danny would be better off under Vlad's care than under his parents'. Now, everything was flipped. Vlad was horrible, and the Fentons--

The Fentons were gazing at him warmly, Jack's arms still outstretched in an invitation for Niel to join them in their group hug.

"Danny," Jazz said softly. "It's okay. I think they can change."

Niel didn't meet her eyes. Danny, she had called him. They all still thought he was a future version of Danny. And Niel...didn't want that to change.

Danny's family was amazing, he now realized. And they thought he was their son. They thought he was a part of them. Maybe, if he kept lying, he could be a part of their family, and then he'll never have to return to Vlad ever again.

That thought grew in his head until it was all he could think of. He was brought here on a wish, and that wish was being granted. He could be a part of a real family, and as an added bonus, Danny wouldn't have to go through his accident or fight any ghosts if they never completed the portal. Everyone would be happy. He, Danny, and--

Oh. Guilt swam in his stomach as he realized he had forgotten all about his sister--his real sister, not Jazz. If he stayed, Ellie would never had been made.

"What's the matter, dear?" Maddie asked. Niel swallowed.

"I'm..." he sighed and said, "I'm not your son."

He looked at Maddie nervously to see her reaction...and was confused to see that her expression hadn't changed from its warm smile. Then he looked at everyone else and realized she wasn't the only one--none of them had moved one millimeter.

"Um...hello?" he asked and waved in front of their faces. None of them even blinked. What the f--

"Hi," a new voice said, and Niel screamed and jumped in surprise.

He whipped around and found a smiling ghost. The ghost was blue-skinned and wore a purple cloak along with what must have been a dozen watches. As if those weren't enough to tell him the time, he also held a scepter with one more little clock on top.

As Niel watched, the ghost shifted from a young adult, to an old adult, a child, then back again. A light flicked on inside his brain.

"You're that time ghost," he said. "I've heard about you. Your name had to do with clocks or watches...um...Watchman?"

The ghost chuckled. "Close enough. It's Clockwork."

"You're supposed to be a myth."

Clockwork spread his arms and asked, "Do I seem like a myth to you?"

"I guess not," Niel admitted. "Assuming the myths are true, you either control time, or you have a deep obsession with collecting watches."

"Har har, very funny," Clockwork said. His monotone voice somehow made his words sound funnier. "You know, you're just as witty as he is," he said and pointed his clock-staff at Danny.

"I like to think im wittier," Niel said casually. Internally, he may have been freaking out. Clockwork might not be a myth, but he sure as hell was a legend. One who was talking to him.

Clockwork hummed and floated over to the Fentons, who stood still as statues--frozen in time, Niel now realized.

"They're a nice family, aren't they?" Clockwork commented. Despite how legendary the time ghost was, Niel suddenly found himself biting his tongue to stop himself from retorting. If the myths were true, then Clockwork knew all about Niel's (half)life. He knew how much emotional turmoil this revelation caused him.

"Maybe," was what Niel ended up saying.

Clockwork shifted into a child. Maybe he did it to spite Niel. "You were very hateful to the parents."

"They hate ghosts."

"But not their son."

Niel pursed his lips. He looked at the frozen Danny, being held in frozen Maddie's arms as she smiled. "I guess...maybe they deserve a second chance."

"Indeed," Clockwork hummed and returned to the Fentons. Niel found himself wishing the time ghost didn't act so aloof. He was observing the Fentons like they were an art exhibit, and Niel was a fellow tourist. "You know, you were never meant to be transported to this time," he mentioned to Niel. "Desiree--that's the name of the wish ghost, by the way--she grants wishes, but usually they're supposed to stay small. Nothing as big as changing the timeline."

Desiree. So that was her name. "What happened to her?" Niel found himself asking.

"I'm afraid she's being trialled."

"What?"

Clockwork turned away from the Fentons to look at him. His form jumped from child to old man, so his face looked more serious as he spoke. "Like I said, changing the timeline is a big deal. The Observants aren't happy with her. If this were a one-time thing, they might have let her go, but this wasn't the first time she went too far with her wishes. Time was never supposed to be a part of her arsenal."

"What...punishment do they have for her?" Niel asked. Even though he never interacted with her much, he found himself sympathizing with her.

Clockwork shrugged. "The Observants no doubt have some severe punishment in mind, but I might convince them to go soft on her. Get them to sentence her for a hundred years in jail, maybe."

"That's supposed to be soft?"

"Desiree herself is several hundreds of years old. One century isn't long when you're immortal."

"That's fair, I guess..."

Clockwork observed him with his pupil-less eyes. His form shifted again into a young adult. "I don't believe you feel sorry for her because she granted your wish, do you?" He waved at the Fentons and added, "Surely you know you can't stay here forever."

Niel knew. As soon as Clockwork appeared, he figured the time ghost was here to transport him back to his own time. Still, hearing that from him felt disappointing.

"I don't want to go back to Vlad," Niel murmured.

"You don't have to," Clockwork pointed out. "After all, your sister seems to be doing just fine on her own."

Niel wrinkled his nose. "I'm not living on the streets."

"I don't know. It might do you some good humility." Niel wondered if Clockwork was joking, and then he saw the ghost's grin. Niel frowned.

Clockwork chuckled. Then he turned serious again. "But really. You don't belong in this timeline."

"I know," Niel said dejectedly. That didn't make him feel any better.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Clockwork by his side. "You will be part of a family someday," the time ghost told him. Niel didn't believe that. But Clockwork can see the future, so maybe, just maybe, that was true.

Niel looked at the frozen family once more. "What will happen to them?"

"Their memories of their encounter with you will be erased, obviously. Their fate will progress as it has been written. Things will return to normal--as normal as it is considered for Amity Park."

"And what will happen to me?"

Clockwork gave him a knowing smile. "Telling you would be a spoiler, wouldn't it?"

Niel was quiet for a moment. Then he opened his mouth to say something, but when he blinked, Clockwork wasn't there. A few more blinks, and he realized he was no longer standing in the Fentons' living room. The smells of stale ectoplasm, batteries, and sterilizer filled the air. He was in the Fentonworks laboratory, and judging from the light seeping through the crack between the portal's closed blast doors, he was back in his own time.

"--uck!" Danny said, then stopped. "Oh. Nothing happened. Huh."

Niel turned around and saw Danny rubbing his neck in embarrassment. "I thought, since you said the word 'wish'--but nothing happened..."

Niel's vision moved away from Danny and landed on Ellie. Ellie, who was little more than a puddle. Ellie, who had been attacked by her and Niel's own father, if Vlad can even be called that.

Danny followed his eyes to Ellie. "Oh, right. Don't worry, I've got the Ecto-Dejecto right..." He turned back to Niel, but he was gone. The portal doors were open. "...here."

Niel floated aimlessly through the Ghost Zone. He couldn't stand another second inside that lab, seeing Ellie like that. But he couldn't stand the thought of returning to Vlad, either. So here he was, drifting through the Infinite Realms.

Now that he wasn't currently being pursued by Skulker, he had the time to take in the scenery. Blobs of ectoplasm floated here and there, making the world seem like an oversized lava lamp. Islands, rocks, and doors floated here and there. Occasionally, a ghost flew by in the distance.

Niel didn't feel any wonder from seeing the view. He felt empty. He felt...lost.

[groovycatcollector]

The Wonderfully Right, And The Horribly Wrong (Daryl Dixon Love story)

Summery: After losing her brother and his wife, one young woman is left on her own, caring for a new born and trying to survive. After being taken in to a community after years of mistrust, how will she adapt, and what effect will a certain archer have on her. Starts the last episode of season 5

Warnings: slow-burn, angst, eventual fluff, violence, strong language. ptsd, age gap

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x OFC

Chapter 9

I had decided to stay awake after one of the baby’s feeds, I had told Maggie I’d help her planting some veg, considering food supplies were running low. I had time before I would go to the infirmary and my mind was still buzzing with distrust for Alexandria. But knowing I should stay for the baby I did, wanting to give him a better chance, so I occupied my days, distracting myself from my gut screaming at me that something was gonna go wrong.

The sun was just lightening the sky without making an appearance, so it was cool enough to work. I was already to go; food packed, baby fed and in a basket, just my hair.

I was standing in front of a mirror in the sitting room. I couldn’t brush it, it was too curly and it would only puff it up more. My last hair elastics broke last night so I stared helpless at the ringlets in the mirror. I could shave my head?

I’m not shaving my head …

After deciding not to shave my head, I graded a pencil (Something one of my older sisters had thought me) and twisted it and weaved it into my hair; leaving me with a low bun. It wouldn’t keep it off my neck but it would stay out of my face. Deciding that was enough for me I wrapped my new found scarf around my head once, making sure to secure my baby hairs and front strands in the fabric. Tying it at the base of my neck around the bun, leaving the flimsy material falling loosely at my shoulder blades.

**

 “One Russian name and one normal name?” Maggie confirmed, using her foot too glide the spade into the ground. “Yep, family tradition, honour the grandparents” I grunted, following suit. The sun had risen, and oh mama it was hot. We had started working before dawn, so we had a few tomatoes plants in the ground, and the conversation has drifted to the Christening tomorrow, and the lack of a name.

I’m guessing Maggie was also tired with an aching back by her strained reply “I don’t know many Russian names so you’ll have to excuse my lack of input there”. I huffed with a smile “I was thinking maybe Luke? Does he look like a Luke to you” I straightened glanced at the baby, who at this stage couldn’t really crawl; only sat there content with his big hat. Maggie halted, turning to look at him clumsily pulling out grass “He could be a Luke”

I decided to test it out “Hey” I called at the oblivious infant “You think you’re a Luke?” Waiting a moment, looking as he tried to put a blade of grass into his mouth before it fell from his weak grip. “Okay not Luke” I announced before bending back over continuing my work.

We were quiet concentrating for a few more minutes. “You thought of any names for yourself?” I asked, whipping a bead of sweat from my neck. The sound of shovels scratching threw dirt filled my ears before she gathered an answer. “Haven’t really thought about it yet, suppose it’s still early days” She said, focusing her eyes on the ground.

I nodded “Just be careful you don’t end up like me, waiting for the day before you have to name him” She chuckled at that.

 When the sun got high I wondered over to the infirmary. I was reading a book I snagged from the hippie on natural herbs, writing out Denise’s beloved Short Cuts on a sheet of paper for each herb. Luckily not many were sick, so besides writing all of my useless information I just tidied up. It was nice, I felt like it was summer vacation and I was down at my Grandpa’s practice.

Denise and I sat on the porch, still in the shade. She looked off long fully in the distance at Tara on post while I quizzed her on her spread sheet. We had come up with a routine of cleaning, testing cheat sheets, cleaning again, and home time (If no one came in of course)

“Infection” I called out agents the hot air. Denise groaned, flopping back onto the wooden panels.  “No, I’m sick of this” she exclaimed rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. I was sick of it too in all honesty. I lay next to her book on my chest “Yeah me too” I admitted staring up at the white porch roof. I glance across at her, she reminded me of Sonya, just getting in her head all the time, and trying to pull it all together for other people.

“How’re things with Tara?” I asked, somewhere between genuinely curious and just making small talk. “They’re fine, we moved in together” She sighed. Oh shit big step.

 Hold the fuck up that’s a very big step. I bolted up right “What the fuck, I see you ever single day for the past five weeks and you didn’t say anything?” I starred, mouth wide open.

Denise shrugged defensively “I dunno Nina I didn’t think it was that important” My eyes darted to Tara who stood on the watch tower. I scoffed, repeating her “Not a big deal” before lay back down. It was quiet for a moment, just listening to the baby babbling in his highchair before Denise broke the pause in dialogue.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you” She said, putting her face in my direction but still not meeting my eyes. “I guess I was kinda scared how you’d react” She paused, biting her lips thinking “With you being so religious and all”

I narrowed my eyes, not fully understanding her meaning before it all clicked into place, which caused an eruption of laughs burst from my stomach. She looked at me bewildered before I could catch my breath, whipping a tear away from my eye. 

“Dude” I gasped “Dude I’m catholic not an asshole” Her look of shock, followed by a small chuckle of relief calmed me a little.

I lolled my head to look at her “So you’re not homophobic” She asked still chuckling, I offered her a smile before leaning in and whispering “Not an asshole” while putting my hand on hers while we lazily starred up at the roof. I liked Denise, she reminded me of what it was like to have a sister, even if she presumed I was an asshole.

“Sooo” She sang, just as my mind was beginning to wander too far into sadder thoughts. “What’s going on with Daryl?” She cocked on eyebrow teasingly.

Confusion shocked my body, now I definitely didn’t expect that. I got on with Daryl, but I don’t think I’m into him “what about him?” I asked, cautiously.

I’ve gotten too comfortable here, just the hint of romantic relationships got my palms sweating. Now it was Denise’s turn to let a giggle “Are you kidding? You guys are always looking at each other and I see you guys early mornings talking to each other” Her nose was scrunched up like a kid tattling on their friend to teacher.

It’s true we had made a routine of crossing paths when I would feed the baby, and we would get up to hunt or get ready for a run. I just never figured it would spark town gossip.

“We are not always looking at each other” I said defensively. She scoffed sitting up “Nina you both are constantly gazing at each other from across the street!” I sat up next to her leaning agents the wall, her crossed legged and my arms resting on my bent knees. What in tarnation, gazing? I don’t gaze, I’m a Price and we’re not a gazing family

“We do not gaze”

“Then why are you getting so defensive”

“I’m not getting defensive”

Denise through her hands up in the air in defeat “Okay okay nothings going on, shouldn’t have asked” She looked down rubbing her palms together after I thanked her. Suddenly her face contorted in a smile “Say…” She sounded way too pleased with herself for this to end well.

“What are you doing later today?” Shit. I chewed my lip “I’m going helping with the cars” I answered bluntly, trying not to show just how completely she caught me.

“And who is it again who’s doing the cars today?” I hope that smile was hurting her face, it was far too big. My shoulders slouched in defeat, trying to hide my smile, my signal of “You got me” as Denise burst out laughing.

“You” She said, pushing my shoulder making me wobble “Are full of shit” I barely got to mumble a ‘Am not’ before the doctor continued her sentence “And I think you two would be cute”

“Fuck off”

 **

Me and Daryl, that’s weird, crazy even. Just because I get on with someone who’s reasonably attractive and single doesn’t mean I’m attracted to them

Even if I just said they were attractive. Not the point.

I’m gonna go in there, and be cool, chilled, just doing car stuff. And I’m a friendly person, I’m friendly with everyone. Sure I spent a little more time with him but so what?

 I walked into the garage seeing Daryl with his head under the hood of one of the cars. His back was covered by a black vest top but his shoulders were glistening with the sweat, and his hair was damp and sticking agents his neck; obviously not enjoying the summer heat.

“Hey, need any help” I asked, putting the baby on the floor “I know a thing or two about cars” I leaned agents the car and peered into the engine, seeing it had all its parts.

“Had a boyfriend that was into cars?” He taunted, still not looking at me, knowing it would get on my nerves.

“My daddy was a mechanic” I clarified. He shot me a glance from behind the dirt and oil that covered his face “Thought you’d been more into them pageants” His mouth came up in a half smile, just flashing his teeth.

A wicked grin grew on my face “Oh yeah, real big into thoughts, won a few too” I hoped he could pick up on my sarcasm, pushing him over so I could get a better look at the valves threw the walker blood “But that’s only because I slept with the judges” I looked up and gave him a big smile but the look on his face ment I couldn’t hold back a laugh “Dann I never thought I’d see you look shocked” I said, slapping him on his back. See? Friendly.

Then a grumble past his lips “Always knew you’d be easy” Without looking up I punched his arm.

Sonya was into Pageants, real good. She won a scholarship to a nursing school in New York kinda good.

“You’d wanna know” I said, sticking my hand into the slimy shit stuck in the engine and pulling it out.

 Just too buds, having laughs, no feelings.

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part ten Part eleven

Tags:@buckysjuicyplums

[artificialqueens]

Different Names For the Same Thing, Chapter Four (Trixya) - Pilandok

Getting drunk on ten cocktails is Trixie’s idea of facing the problem head on.

AN: Hi, thank you for reading! Katya is using female pronouns this chapter since she’s in drag.

Read in AO3 (also, for extra notes.) Read from Chapter One.

            Trixie is here because he wants a drink and what other place in the world would never leave her with an empty glass other than a gay bar on a drag night? In fact, as soon as he steps through the back door, one of the local queens screams his name and hands him her own drink. Trixie graciously accepts it, fully enveloping this queen he didn’t know into an embrace. Who’s acting grand now?

He sits on the battered sofa that seems to be in the back of every bar he’s ever performed at, complete with a ripped out corner and a slight incline because of its uneven footing— he knows exactly how to make himself comfortable in it. The queen that greeted him sits beside him, talking animatedly. She has a million pounds  of make-up on and a name that references something he doesn’t understand. Trixie can’t imagine how a would look like as a boy. He’s not the one to talk though, so he leans in closer than she probably expected him to and when he smiles like she’s the most entertaining person he’s ever met, he shows off his veneered teeth.

            The music from the stage echoes as a faded bass line on the walls of the room. He recognizes it, a Top 40 song from about two decades ago but he knows he won’t understand the words— Katya once told him that with his abysmal French, he has zero chance of learning Russian. (Sweet gesture, though, Katya said. Trixie was obviously joking.)

            Trixie is here because she can be— because in almost every gig, they tell the promoter that the other Brian might show up. Even when it was physically impossible for them to be. Still, there’s always that proverbial seat saved for the other. As soon as she walks in, give Katya a cigarette, Trixie would tell them. For him, a drink. This bar came through and now Trixie’s on his third glass of a random alcohol mix (his ninth if you count what he drank in the other bar before he mustered up the courage to go here, and his tenth if you count the one he had in the hotel.)

            Trixie is here because Katya expected him to be, two weeks ago. Trixie said he could watch her, he’s playing the venue three days later. He should be able to make it before her set and that she would expect him here. But judging from Katya’s reaction when she spots him on the couch with the other queen’s legs resting on his lap, it looks like neither of those things are true anymore.

            Trixie is here not because Katya has decided to stop making out with him nine days ago.

            “Trixie,” Katya calls, a full mouth smile as if she’s excited to see him but he can see the confusion in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head. “You’re here.”

            “We gave her drinks just like you told us to,” says the older drag queen that entered with Katya, probably the host of the show, “but it looked like she already had a few before us…”

            The tone of her voice, Trixie imagines, is trying to suggest something. He recognizes a tongue that’s looking for drama and with his relationship with Katya so publicly ambiguous, he all but expects this to happen. He doesn’t give a shit anymore, honestly. They’re praying for my downfall, he thinks, then laughs to himself.

            Katya’s smile barely falters but Trixie sees it. He watches her turn to the older queen and they converse in low voices that is easily drowned out by the music. He wants to tell them that he knows they’re talking about him. Instead, he focuses on the drag queen sitting on the other side of the couch whose legs are sprawled in his lap, he leans in as if he’s going to tell her something but he just flashes a lazy smile at him which she returns, equally buzzed. She’s about five years younger than him, easily excitable and eager to please.

            “Trix, honey. Hi.” Katya kneels on the rug in front of him, ignoring the pair of legs strewn over Trixie. “I have to do my second set. Wait for me, okay? I’ll take you back to the hotel. ”

            He expected as much, that his thinly-veiled attempt at making Katya jealous wouldn’t phase her so he moves his head into what he perceives to be a nod. Katya stares at him for a second and he could see that she needs to retouch her make-up. It’s kind of a hot, sweaty mess at the moment but in the way that everyone likes, with her hair sticking to her face and her lips slightly smudged. It takes a few numbers for Katya to be in her most flexible and sensual self. That’s when a strong, complicated, feminine energy exudes itself from Katya. None of these things he would have noticed before— before Katya made a mission out of making out with him every chance she got (or was it Trixie letting him?)— now the sight of it brings a stirring between his legs. Is he even gay anymore?

            “Cut her off,” Katya orders the young drag queen.

            A few moments after she leaves, they hear the explosion from the crowd.

            Trixie lifts his drink to take a sip and the young queen makes a halfhearted motion to stop him. Trixie laughs, he knows that preventing people from drinking goes against the hard-wiring of a drag queen. When he raises his glass at her, giving her a mischievous wink, she can’t help but toast hers.

            “Jesus Christ, you’re heavy,” Katya tells him.

            “It’s muscle mass,” Trixie slurred “I’ve been working out, bitch.” He tries to flex his bicep but his arm is slung around Katya’s neck who was keeping him stable on the curb as they wait for the Uber.

            “Sure, hon,” Katya mumbles distractedly, preoccupied with tracking the car on the app.

            It’s not lost on him that Katya didn’t take her things from the club, that she’s standing empty handed beside him. He realizes that “bringing you home” meant sending him off in an Uber and leaving him to the hotel staff. It seems that Katya fully intends to continue her cold streak, barely acknowledging Trixie since that day in her apartment. What did Trixie do wrong this time? Why does she get to act this way? Before it was because he cared too much and didn’t let her kiss him. Now is it because he lets her kiss him and he doesn’t care enough? Damned if I do—

“Katya, you— Kat,” Trixie starts, because what’s the point of getting wasted if you’re not going to let the words vomit out of your mouth? Katya looks at him like he’s expecting a train-wreck. “You don’t have to remember, Brian. It’s fine, you dont have to tell me— You don’t have to be anyone. You don’t have to be him. I don’t care.” Katya looks at him, exasperated, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Whatever, Trixie knows he’s not a fun drunk. “I know you know what I’m talking about.”

            At this, Katya purses her lips into a hard line.

            “But you do care,” Katya says in a whisper.

            “Fine, if I do, then I do. But just because I care doesn’t mean it matters, Kat. It hasn’t mattered in fifteen years. No matter how much I wanted it to. It still doesn’t matter now. Nothing has to change.” Trixie has an idea of what he looks like to Katya, he’s always been a pathetic drunk, Kim would never let him forget that. Even sober, his mouth is always faster than his brain— all the fucking trouble that caused for him. “Katya— Brian just— don’t disappear on me again.”

            It’s too much for Katya, he knows that, he can see the wheels turning in hehr head. He wants to do something about it but freshly digested alcohol is clouding his brain, probably the ones from the queen.

            “Trixie,” she starts, her arm faltering on his waist. Katya doesn’t sound like she was going to say anything more, just saying his name for the sake of it, to test it out on her tongue. But it’s the most sure she’s ever sounded in weeks. Trixie can’t help but feel his heart climb up his chest, he can hear his pulse in his ears and the dizzying spell of the beat. He wants to swallow it down, the feeling rising in his throat, but it’s impossible. “Brian I—“

            He stops Katya with a retching noise. He lurches forward, slipping his arm off of her neck, and heaves. He empties out the content of his stomach, the sound of him throwing up echoing on the empty street.

            He’s always been a terrible interrupter.

             Those are my feelings, he thinks, watching the sickly colored liquid flow into the gutter.

             It’s the last thing he remembers from that night.

            Trixie dreams of the world in Katya’s head.

            The artist’s kisses drive him crazy— verrückt. That must be it, why else would he be watching him right now? He’s never met a man so… obscene. He kisses all his models, especially after they’ve opened their legs for him. Not for sex, no, but maybe something more intimate. He watches him kneel in front of the bed, staring intently at the genetalia that has been spread before him. He sees the furious sketches on his pad.

            “Nicht fickstück,” the artist had told him, Russian accent heavy, and he blushed at the vulgarity.

            It’s only his turn when it’s late at night and everyone has left. The name he gave was Byron and the artist had laughed at this. It doesn’t suit him at all and he can’t quite pronounce it right, but the artist never asked for the truth. He only replied, “dann bin ich Katya.”

            Byron doesn’t take off his clothes, he is never asked to, only his jacket so he can roll up his sleeves. He sits on the piano waiting at the other side of the room. It’s damaged but it’s still better than anything he’s ever owned. The fact that he can play this late at night without anyone coming up to complain tells him the character of the place and the kind of residents there are in this building.

            For Katya, he plays the pieces he learned in the academy— he doesn’t let him listen to any of his compositions. In turn, Katya never shows him what he’s painting while he watches him play.

            But he does love Katya’s self portraits.

            “Ich habe so etwas noch nie gesehen,” Byron tells him, and then in his best english, “beautiful.”

            Katya beams and points to the canvas he hasn’t been able to see.

            “I will make you walk in the most beautiful.”

            In the morning, Trixie wakes up with a hang over so bad that he swears he’s lost feeling in his limbs. He was a mess last night, he knew. Katya knew, the queens in the club knew, and the night shift staff of the hotel knew. Hell, Kim probably knew, somehow. It’s fine, he can bounce back from it. He has the emotional and mental fortitude. But physically, he’s a goner. He’s thirty years old and a hangover can kill him now.

            An hour later, he peels himself off the bed to trudge up the bathroom. The sound of the water hitting the sink helps him gather his thoughts and the water is refreshing to touch. But he catches himself before he washes his face. He leans forward to observe his face in the mirror, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He touches his forehead like he can’t believe it. A red stain in the shape of a kiss. He knows what shade that is— hes’ making a lipstick in that exact color.

            “This is so not fair,” Trixie says out loud. He wants to hate her, really. The gesture is stupidly tender. It’s the exact opposite of what Katya has been trying to prove to him for weeks.

[og-danny-dorito]

Some Really Bad Michael Myers Headcanons, Mainly Done Because I Just Felt Like It

- where do I start with this bitch

- he's a big, angry, no-fucks-given sortof dude with a knife and many mental illnesses, but he's still a person, so he's got some personal preferences deep down under that creepy exterior as The Shape of Haddonfield

- for instance, he generally likes to sleep in his spare time, or listen to people reading to him. he's not sure why he likes it so much, but the sound of someone's speaking to him without depth or meaning in their word was put him to sleep faster than anything

- he can fall asleep in complete silence, but ironically enough it feels...empty without someone or something making noise. although he personally is very quiet, he grew up in the asylum where there was almost always some sort of noise in the room, whether it be distant murmurings of an inmate next door or a nurse walking down the halls, so he's used to falling asleep to whatever noise is going on during the day

- oh yeah, he also sleeps like a rock

- seriously, its a struggle to get him up. he barely wants to move in the first place, so getting him out of bed will have to be with some bribing or very gentle pleading, although he gets annoyed of begging out of the bedroom very quickly. your best shot is to promise making dinner all week (even though you probably already do) and to make sure he gets treated very generously for his fear or getting out of bed

- a good method of giving him praise is to actually give him a kiss. you may be thinking to yourself, ‘but Danny (that's my internet name, or call me Dann), he's a big scary man with basically no emotions and doesn't speak like at all, how can you make him like soft things that imply a domestic and somewhat healthy relationship?’ well dear reader because I said so, and also it basically makes sense. he obviously wouldn't remember much from his childhood before killing his sister, so what he does remember are snippets of his family and household he grew up in

- and to be honest, pretty much all of them are bland and leave a tight frown and sour taste on and in his mouth (respectively)

- the most evident one is of his mother, who he remembers as tired and snappy, hitting him over the head and yelling some slurred words at him for a reason he doesn't remember. he remembers the hatred, the sadness that came with the childhood he had learned to forget, which fuel his desire for blood more than anything after he's had the first taste of what it's like to take a life. he wants to be treated well, but in his mind he believes all he needs is to keep himself satisfied with blood until he's at his end

- but the truth is that he's really just a man, and he needs a bit of affirmation of how he slowly cared about from time to time. he needs someone to take care of him, to wash his hair or even do something's small like curl up in bed with him when he's asleep for warmth. I know that sounds likes he's not a desperate bitch, but he really won't admit how touch starved he is at all, so yknow there's will be pushing you away when you want to juggle him or smthn like that

- sex however?

- he highkey can and will fuck whoever, he doesn't even like have a gender preference. but when he's in a relationship with someone it makes him feel,,,bad? is that the right word? it's not the issue of hurting their feelings though, it's the feeling of it not being really neccissary to fuck someone else when you have someone's waiting at home, if that makes sense. it's saving him time and trouble to just push you against a wall and do whatever he wants

- it's usually just to fulfill urges that are more than just murderous though, like animalistic ones that can only be satisfied by contact that isn't entirely violent, but there's are times when he genuinely, seriously needs physical contact

- Michael on a whole isn't an affectionate guy, obviously, and so he won't outright ask for affection if he feels needy, and that's few and far between. if you catch him in one of those moods though, he'll usually end up standing behind you menacingly until you turn to face him. this usually resorts to him just wrapping his arms around you, holding you to his chest and just,,,standing still for a few minutes

- it's kindof a personal thing to him, validation of sorts. he may not show it, but he loves you, and know she damn well he's not who you deserve. he knows that you're stable, can function, don't have to suffering the burden of animalistic urges on a daily basis, etc. it feels wrong sometimes, wrong in a sense that he doesn't belong, even with whom he should feel the best confidant

- he needs physical affection, even though he doesn't initiate it and avoids it due to not wanting to feel a specific way in your presence. I mean, you're the first person he's felt anything with besides hatred since he can remember, so as a guy who literally kills people he doesn't always feel correct touching you, like you're a holy object or something

- coaxing him eventually gets him out of it, you just need to show him you want to touch him, to be around him

- on that note, I believe he would best be matched with a particularly needy partner. yes, he'd get agitated very quickly if you were too clingy like hanging on his arm or constantly hugging him, but he doesn't mind having his face held or being told that you missed him

- it also gives him a massive hard on when you look him directly in the eyes and say “I missed you today.” or “I’ve been waiting all day for you, you know. You kept me waiting for too long.”

- while all this may seem great, he's not exactly the best at showing his own affection and devotion for you. well, better phrased, he just shows it in different ways

- someone's been bothering you at work or giving you a hard time? expect their head to be on the table as soon as he gets home as proof they won't  be bothering you anymore. some creep keeps hitting on you? ok, no head thing this time, yes he understands it's nasty but this time he'll just scare the person to death. usually he solves things with violence, so anything you complain to him about will be taken care of quite quickly

- you can imagine how easily possessive he gets. he knows that he's not the best, but that doesn't stop him from recognizing that no one else is better for you, at all. just smiling or laughing at a person’s joke when they're obviously trying to lay down something more beneath the veil of politeness is enough to get his blood boiling

- he keeps following you even after you two are confirmed as living together Andy being significant others, meaning you have to rub your temples slightly when you see a pale, emotionless mask emerge from the darkness in a fashion that would scare the shit out of anyone if they hadn't seen it and what was underneath 1,000 times

- when you finally come home, he's already waiting in front of the door and staring you down as if you've done something wrong

- you almost roll your eyes

- “Michael, don't tell me you were jealous.”

- “...”

- “Don't look at me like that! I don't even like them like that, only you.”

- he's borderline kindof a yandere, so expect to feel a little smothered by him if he's not feeling particularly mad about one of your friends but is hesitating to kill the, because you care about them. he's not the most considerate slasher, but he's not a dumbass so he won't hesitate to make sure you haven't been tipped off by a friend

- really random, but in all honesty it would crush him if you grew scared of him for this. he wouldn't recognize it first as rebellion, but after a while he would start to actually become a bit scared you didn't love him anymore. he wants to ask why you're acting like this, what he has to do to be better, but he can't get to words across so you both sit in silence, and he feels more like a monster as the minutes pass, making him more violent

- chances are if you become scared and want to leave you won't leave at all, you'll just end up being chained down to a bed in an empty room with no windows and being constantly given food by Michael as he attempts to get you back, train you like an animal to love him again

- but that probably won't happen, if you decide to see the part of him that truly is human

- he's not scared of anything really, but he does have a fear of being watched without his knowing, like a stalker. he's only ever told this to you, and it was mainly just blank ramblings as a product of his own fatigue in the middle of the night

- although he does sleep like a rock, that doesn't mean he wakes up in cold sweat sometimes, breathing and gasping for air while staring at the ceiling. he doesn't say anything for hours, merely staring and breathing heavily, reminiscing over whatever he's just dreamed of. most dreams are just black, blank canvases with nothing on them, deep and empty

- others are detailed, too realistic to be just dreams, abstract telling of a story that's familiar like a distant, unpleasant thought in the back of his head fleshed out to appear like reality. you scream at him, claw at the air a small he chokes you to death, say his name s on your lips before you turn to dust beforehand his eyes, and then silence. silence as he runs through the house, only door won't open to where they should, like a trick maze as his name through your labored breath echoes in directions he can’t follow. then the house catches on fire, and he wakes up immediately feeling shaken and disoriented as you slowly move from your place next to him to he placing a hand on his back, trying Tommy reassure him of your presence

- he blames you for this, since he never had nightmares so violently Andy so often before he met you, but he's refused to talk about them openly or try to work through them. it doesn't affect his life directly, so he pays it no mind

- and that's pretty much how it work for you two. to be honest you do most of the providing, the work, and the care, but the small moments that he finds himself confiding in you as your lover or feelings intimately close just Fromm looking at you can prove his love, although due to preconceived ideas he may not be the best at being conventional

- but who likes conventional anyway?

[luciousmafloy]

First Love [pt. 1]

Luka Couffaine x Reader

my first story! yay! i hope it doesn't suck!

Soo, a few things you need to know:

1. English is not my native language so i'll probably do some mistakes lmao

2. your character is a German who moved to paris

3. french is written in english and when your character speaks german i will write it in german with the translation after it

4. i will 'use' the villains for my story not in chronological order- i hope you don't mind and understand what i just wrote lol

5. yeet

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

your pov

i stood in my new room. it wasn't fully decorated but it already looked comfy and cozy. i sat down on my grey couch and picked up my phone to text my friend f/n.

we were in Paris now for only three days and i already miss her like hell. on of my fears is that i won't make any friends here. That would suck.

"the food is ready!", i hear my mom shouting for me and my little sister.

even though we are germans my parents speak french with us, so we can improve our french. i think i'm good at the language but i'm not perfect. my sisters french isn't that good so my parents sent her to a special school, where she'll learn the language. she dumb lol. no, my sister is actually really smart. She once won a math competition in 5th grade. I could never. my math is horrible.

anyway , i walked down the stairs and sat down on a chair. It's weird that the house where we live now is our new home. it feels a bit strange, but i will get used to it by time.

"s/n, your bus will drive at 7:35 please get up tomorrow timely"

my sister gave my mom a no-shit-sherlock look and i started laughing.

"fine", she said.

"when you want to improve your french, you have to speak more than one word", i told s/n.

"i can speak french when i want to", my sister said.

"it doesn't matter. Stop it please", your mother interrupted us. she hates when we argue like that, but i can't help it.

after dinner i went to my room and turned on the tv. I found nothing interesting to watch so i decided to watch the news. I need to know at least a bit about my new home town.

the friendly red-haired news lady told something about akumas and ladybug and chat noir.

i already knew the heroes of paris, they looked pretty cool in their animal-like costumes but doesn't the spandex feel weird on their skin? when i meet them, i could ask them this. but no, probably not, that would be weird.

they showed an interview with the akuma victim. the victim was a sweet man who sells ice cream. friendly and genuine persons like him get akumatised too? okay, that is scary... i hope i won't get akumatised, i don't wanna hurt people.

after watching the news, and texting my friend f/n about this strange akuma stuff, i found a funny show to watch for the rest of the evening.

~ the next day ~

my alarm clock played my favorite song at exactly 7:15 am. my sister had to get up earlier than me, because she has to take the bus to get to school when i can easily walk to school.

i stayed a few minutes in my warm bed but after my mom yelled at me i got up and ate breakfast.

"and? excited for school? hell, even i am excited, for both of you!", my mom says to me while she drank her tea.

"yeah, but i'm scared. what when they all think i'm weird and avoid me?"

i'm definitely not the person who just wanders to people and strikes up a conversation with them. nope.

i'm the kind of person who stands alone and watches other people having fun, and then feels bad about themselfes.

"then you have to come ouf of your comfort zone and talk to people"

"ja, weils auch so einfach ist", i mumbled. (yeah, because it's so easy)

"oh, don't be a sissy. now get up and change your clothes and brush your teeth. you have to go in 20 minutes!"

"yes, mother", i said while saluting and pretending her to be my boss.

i walked upstairs to my room and picked out my favorite clothes. i feel a bit confident when i wear them, maybe it'll help me.

after brushing me teeth and doing my skin care routine i grabbed my backpack from the floor and walked downstairs to my mom.

my dad has already left for work, he always leaves early and comes back late.

"mama, ich hab wirklich angst", i said to her. (mom, i'm really scared)

"das schaffst du schon. wenn du heute keine freunde findest, dann eben morgen. versuch einfach ganz normal zu sein, dann kann nichts schiefgehen"

(you got this. if you make no friends today, you will make some tomorrow. just try to be normal then nothing bad can happen)

i smiled at my mother. she is good at cheering me up, that's one of the many reasons why i love her so much. even though she can get pretty strict sometimes.

"thanks, mom. i needed that"

my mom gave me a hug, i felt good. i love hugging people, but i'm often too shy to do it.

"oh my- i have to go now if you want to be on time!", my mom said nervously.

i think she is more anxious than me. anyway, i said goodbye to her and left our house.

i think i know the way to my new school. my parents walked the whole way with me yesterday and even if i don't have it memorized, then why does google maps exist?

on my way i put on my earplugs and listened to my favorite music. music really helps me calming myself down. i was so nervous. the students in my home town didn't really liked me. i had some 'friends' yeah, but without f/n i wouldn't have survived all my school years. i really miss her and i hope i find a f/n in paris.

when i walked into school i looked around. there were many students chattering and having fun, even though its the first day after school holidays.

i checked the time, 10 minutes until the class starts. i better search for the classroom.

with my schedule in my hands i walked up the stairs, looking for my room. i felt a bit lost, there were many students and it scared me.

"hey, do you need help?", i heard a sweet voice saying behind me.

i turned around and saw a small girl, with blond short hair and the biggest blue eyes i've ever seen.

"ähm- ah, yeah. i-i can't find my classroom"

great. why can't i form a single sentence to a stranger without stuttering?

"well, can i see your schedule?", the girl asked smiling. she is really nice.

i handed her the schedule i just got yesterday and bite my lips.

"ah! we're in the same class! juleka come here, it's the new girl!"

a girl with dark clothes came up to us. she looked like the complete opposite of the girl before me, but the fact that they are friends or maybe a couple (who knows?) is super cute.

"hi", said juleka and stood beside the sweet girl.

"that's great! we're gonna get along just fine, i know it! i'm rose, that's juleka and your name is?"

rose and juleka started walking and i followed them.

"i'm y/n. it's nice to meet you guys"

i really hope they will stick with me today. and tomorrow, i hope they are going to be my friends, because they seem really nice and i don't think i will meet other people so easily and fast like that.

"madame bustier told us that you are german! but your french is so good, i didn't even notice a accent. do you already like it here?"

rose talkes a lot. it's cute.

"thank you and yeah.. it feels weird to live here now, but i like it"

rose smiles. "that's nice to hear. look, we're here, our classroom!"

rose opened the door and i walked in behind juleka. there were a few students already here.

i noticed a girl with blue hair who was talking to another girl with brown hair. in front of these two sat a boy who listened to music.

"you can sit behind juleka and me, if thats okay?", rose asked me.

juleka already sat down on her place and looked calmly out of the window.

"yeah, yeah. that's good"

i walked up, but a girl with blond hair stopped me.

"look sabrina, the new german girl is here. they clearly don't have clothing stores in germany, when i see what you are wearing", she said and her friend faked a laugh.

"why do you care about my clothes?", i asked her.

"they look horrible, just like marinette's", the girl shrugged.

"chloé, just because no one except you can afford designer clothes doesn't mean you can pick on us!", the blue-haired girl shouted angry. i think she was about to slap chloé or something because her friend held her back.

chloé simply turned away and started to whisper with her friend.

"i'm sorry about that, but- that's chloé", marinette said to me in a sad tone.

"oh, it's fine. it's not your fault", i told her.

marinette smiled and the girl behind her leaned forward. "hi, i'm alya"

"and i'm marinette, it's nice to meet you. madame bustier has told us about you"

honestly, why are they all so nice? is this some kind of fanfiction or what-

"name's y/n", i smiled.

then a boy entered the class, causing marinette to stare at him. ah, someone has a crush. alya sent me a knowing smile, while she rolled her eyes. i just giggled and walked up to my place behind juleka and rose.

"i heard what chloé said, i'm sorry. she is like that with everyone", rose sighed.

"it's okay. i'm just glad not everyone here is like her"

"me too", agreed juleka.

"i hope she will drop that mean attitude", rose said.

a woman walked into the room and was instantly greeted by every student. it was madame bustier, she looked friendly. i hope she is as friendly as she looks like. "ah, y/n i see you've found a place to sit. but you are alone, how about you take a seat with rose and juleka?". everyone turned to me and i felt uncomfortable.

"ähm- yes, madame?", i said while grabbing my backpack and standing up to sit next to rose.

the class laughed, even madame bustier giggled. "you don't have to call me madam, y/n"

i nooded and said a quiet 'okay'.

what a start.

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 2

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 3,884 for this chapter (9,268 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

It's going to take a lot more than a couple of dissociative episodes between embarrassing himself on camera for Dan to, like, be comfortable with everything that hanging out with Phil might mean or might lead to, but he knows he has a bit of a habit of overthinking, so. He empties his entire suitcase onto the hotel bed and tries to find something suitably casual but cute, because he can admit that much to himself: he wants Phil to think he's cute.

Dan spends too long on his clothes, finally deciding on some ripped jeans and a striped jumper just as his alarm goes off. He eyes his hair in the mirror - he can either leave now and meet Phil on time, or he can straighten his hair and be half an hour late.

Shrugging at himself, Dan slips his phone and wallet into his bag. He doesn't care so much about his hobbit hair when he isn't going to be on camera.

--

"What is that," Dan deadpans.

"It's for vlogging," says Phil, waving the small camera around. He almost drops it and Dan steadies it. "Oops, thanks. Don't worry, I don't have to film you if you don't want, I just always need stock footage of Thor."

"For your endscreen," says Dan. He knows that, now.

Phil beams at him. God, those eyes are like a targeted attack without the barrier of his glasses. "Yeah! Anyway, hi!"

"Hi," Dan echoes, a smile tugging on his own lips. "I was promised a corgi, you know."

"I thought we could get coffee first," says Phil. He puts one of his hands in his jacket pocket, the other still clutching the vlogging camera. "I'm really bad at juggling my drinks and his lead."

"Fair enough. I'd drop everything, too."

When Phil laughs and turns to walk in the wrong direction, Dan allows himself a moment to just look before gently reminding him that the coffee shop is the other way.

Dan tracks the movement of Phil's hands as he talks about London so that he doesn't keep looking at his shoulders, his thighs. He's so expressive that he almost drops his camera twice more before Dan quietly takes it and stuffs it in his own backpack for safekeeping.

Phil looks good today in well-fitted black jeans and a bright red shirt under his denim jacket. There are pins on the pocket that Dan desperately wants to know the story behind. It all really makes Dan wish that he'd taken the time to pull the straighteners through his hair, but whatever. He thinks being late would have been worse.

"But you're from around here, right?" Phil says, interrupting his own tirade about the best tourist traps. "You know all this."

"Near Reading," says Dan. He holds the door of the café open, smirking when Phil almost keeps walking right by it. Phil sticks his tongue out. "I dunno, I didn't come to the city all that much. No friends and no money meant I just played RuneScape til my eyes bled."

"Oh my god, RuneScape," says Phil. "Talk about a blast from the past."

They chat about various websites they'd lost their teenage years to until it's time for them to order. Phil rolls his eyes when Dan hangs back, intending to pay for his own drink, and curls his fingers around Dan's wrist to drag him forward.

Dan is a little transfixed by the sight and feel of Phil's hand around him. The barista has to ask him four times what he wants, and he stammers it out like he's never spoken to another human being before.

Phil lets go of Dan to pay, chattering at the tired-looking barista until they smile, and Dan has to put his hands in his back pockets so he doesn't do something stupid like reach for Phil again. He doesn't even register that Phil has stopped talking to the barista and started talking to him again until Phil snaps his fingers in front of his nose.

"Uh, what?" Dan asks, blinking back to reality.

"You were on another planet," Phil laughs. He doesn't seem to mind much. "You wanna sit and talk or walk and talk?"

"Always sit," says Dan. "Unless you can lie down, I guess. Then lie down."

"I don't think they'll let us lie on the floor," Phil muses, taking their drinks from the counter with another bright smile at the workers. "But thank god, I didn't want to walk more than I have to."

Dan follows Phil to a table, feeling a bit like a lost puppy. "Then why did you offer, doofus?"

"Wanted you to think I was someone who walked just for the hell of it," says Phil. He's still smiling, it shouldn't even be allowed.

"I'd like you a lot less if you were," Dan jokes, stirring his macchiato absently. "I'm lazy as fuck, mate."

"Same," says Phil. "So how was BuzzFeed?"

"It was alright," Dan says, wincing. "They talked to us about memes from the show, kept calling us by nicknames we didn't consent to, and I swear they were just waiting for me to fuck up the whole time."

"Did you?"

"Not a lot," says Dan. "Just tripped. Didn't even fall."

With a quiet laugh, Phil raises his coffee cup. "Well, hello, let's celebrate that."

Dan snorts despite himself. He bops his disposable cup against Phil's and takes a long drink from it.

"How was your day, filming?"

The way Phil's face lights up when he gets to talk about making a video has Dan's heart doing double time. He talks to Dan about it with the same passion he'd talked about London, gesticulating a lot and smiling at Dan like he's the only person in the room. Dan hears everything Phil is saying but retains roughly zero of it, too busy looking at the way thin lines around Phil's eyes crinkle when he's happy.

"It's nothing too crazy," says Phil, as if Dan has any earthly idea what they're talking about. "But I always get so excited when I can do something more... I don't know, creative? Really put my master's to work."

"Your masters?" Dan asks, bewilderment knocking him back into the conversation. "Think it's a little early in the friendship to tell me about your BDSM shit."

Phil blinks at him and then laughs, loud, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. His blue-green-yellow eyes are sparkling as he looks at Dan like he's the funniest person in the world. "Oh my god, Dan, my master's degree. From uni. Where the hell does your mind come up with this stuff?"

"Pardon me," says Dan, "I need to go walk into traffic."

"So it's not just interviews you do this in," says Phil, still grinning. He gestures vaguely at Dan's entire being. "This is just... what you're like."

"Yeah," Dan says miserably.

"It's endearing," Phil assures him.

"So you have a master's degree," says Dan. He can feel the heat in his face, knows he's all red and patchy. He knows he looks and sounds ridiculous right now.

Thankfully, Phil allows him to change the subject with nothing more than a smirk. "I do, it's a post-production thing I spent way too much time on. You want to uni in Manchester, didn't you?"

"I did," Dan says, a little surprised by Phil knowing that. "I mean, I didn't finish uni, but I did go for a bit."

"I grew up near Manchester," says Phil, "so that kind of stuck out when I read up on you, because I was like, what if we had mutual friends back then? Went to the same parties? What if we passed each other on the street and I didn't know I was looking at someone who was gonna be famous? It was a whole, like, existential thing."

Dan's heart feels like it's going to burst, but he just laughs. "Me? Parties? Friends? Going outside? You're drastically overestimating my uni life."

"Guess so," Phil laughs.

Like it's second nature to keep the conversation going - and as a radio host slash YouTuber, it might be - Phil offers up stories from his own time at university and asks Dan a bunch of questions about everything under the sun. Dan barely has the presence of mind to answer them accurately, let alone ask any questions of his own, and it feels a bit like he's sitting for another interview. He doesn't mind much, though, because Phil listens so intently and is really good at jumping onto new conversation threads at points that feel right.

Before Dan knows it, their drinks are long empty. He could probably get another and just sit here and talk to Phil about video games for ten hours straight, but he doesn't want to give up the option of meeting Phil's dog.

They keep chatting while Phil leads the way to his place. Dan manages to think of some questions and ask them; Phil manages to get them hopelessly lost for a few minutes while trying to rattle off fifteen hamster names in a single breath.

Dan pretends to get a phone call when they reach Phil's stoop. He isn't sure he's emotionally prepared for being in AmazingPhil's flat, or Phil's flat for that matter, and he'd rather stand awkwardly on the pavement than deal with that. It's a narrow brick building, snug in the middle of a whole row of narrow brick buildings, and looking at it almost makes Dann feel claustrophobic after so many years in the boroughs of Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles.

He doesn't feel homesick for any of the places he'd couch-surfed or filmed in, exactly, but he does feel a little homesick for privacy from nosy neighbours. He feels like someone is watching him through their blinds right now, and knowing what he knows of the British elderly, there probably is.

All thoughts of America are thrown unceremoniously from Dan's mind when the blue front door swings open again and Phil reappears with Thor at his heels.

"Oh, look at you," Dan coos, his voice going into the soft one he reserves for cute animals and small children. He's crouching down before he can even remember giving his body the command, and Thor gives him a quizzical sort of head tilt.

"It's okay," says Phil. His voice is soft, too, way sweeter than Dan has heard it before. Dan wouldn't be opposed to hearing it more often. "Say hi, Thor."

As if he was waiting for Phil to give him the go-ahead - maybe he was, Dan doesn't know fuck about training dogs - Thor barks once and jumps up, putting his stumpy front legs on Dan's knees and allowing Dan to give him scritches. Dan's eyes well up a little bit and he chokes the tears back as he pets the soft, small, very good boy.

"Hello, oh my goodness, you're such a good, good boy, your fur is so soft and pretty and I would fall upon my sword to keep your tail wagging, do you understand me? Do you even know?"

"Oh, he knows," Phil says, fond. "Fall upon your sword?"

"I'm not even a little kidding," says Dan. He can't stop staring at Thor's puppy eyes and perked ears. "I'd legit die for this dog."

"Same, but he wouldn't even appreciate it," says Phil. He gives Thor's lead a tiny tug, and Thor yips, abandoning Dan to wind himself through Phil's long legs a couple times.

Dan grins like an idiot as he looks up at Phil, and Phil grins right back at him. It takes a moment before Dan realises that he's still crouched on the pavement and he's very much eye-level with -

He stands up so fast that he has to blink spots out of his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, totally," Dan stammers. He has no idea what they're talking about anymore. His brain has gotten tripped up on the idea of being on the floor in front of Phil like it's a record scratch. He's pretty sure that Phil can tell, there's no way it's not all over his flushed face right now, but Phil just laughs and lets Thor lead the way down the street.

"He's way better at navigating than me," says Phil. He sounds so casual. Dan is focusing on not walking into a lamppost. "And that's really good for some stuff, but he also brings me to the park when I'm trying to go to the shop."

"Right," says Dan.

"Oh, can you grab my camera?" Phil asks as if he's just remembered its existence.

"Yeah." Dan is thrilled to have a task that doesn't involve thinking about Phil's body more than he ought to be. He digs around in his bag and fiddles around with the settings on the camera while Thor takes a leak. "This is pretty cool. You want me to hold it for you?"

Phil grins. "You wanna film me?"

"That's not what I said, I -"

"Sure."

"- didn't mean - sure?"

"Sure," Phil repeats, tongue between his teeth as he smiles. "I don't usually have someone to help me out."

So Dan films some stock footage for the AmazingPhil endscreen, because that is what's become of his life, somehow. He gets a new perspective on Thor doing various dog things on the walk to the park, laughs every time Thor or Phil do something cute, and feels his heart start to swell more every time he sees Phil's answering smile.

As soon as they get to the dog park and take him off the lead, Thor is zooming off to bark with his friends. Dan keeps rolling and just turns the camera on Phil, who pulls a silly face.

"Is this what a day in the life of AmazingPhil is like?" Dan asks in his best announcer voice. Phil giggles.

"Honestly, no," says Phil. His hands are in his pockets and, despite a camera being on him, he isn't using his camera voice. It's all a very good look. "I stay home and answer emails until Thor forces me to stop working."

"I don't know if I could have a dog," Dan says. "I'm too fucking busy. Aren't you busy?"

"Gonna have to bleep that," says Phil, which Dan guesses is more as an aside to himself, since he doesn't pause for Dan to apologise. "Yeah, I'm really busy. Like. All the time. But I stopped being so careful for a little while, there, during some family stuff, and made a pretty impulsive decision or two. Thor was one of those, and I honestly don't regret it."

"Ooh, what else did you do? Get a tattoo? Join a cult?"

Phil winks. Tries to, anyway. He mostly just blinks a little out of sync like he's got something in his eye. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

The cackle that's surprised out of Dan is not at all an attractive sound, but it makes the happy crinkles around Phil's eyes deepen, so. Worth getting it on tape. He's not even sure that Phil will use this footage for anything.

Dan turns the camera off and slips it back into his backpack so he can fully focus on taking photos of various dogs on his phone. He and Phil migrate to a bench where they don't have to interact with any of the other dog parents milling around.

"God, I love dogs," says Dan.

Phil laughs at him but nods in agreement. "So do I. Well, I love basically all animals, but dogs are the best kind."

"Is it good, having Thor?" Dan asks. "Even though you're busy?"

"Yeah," says Phil. "I mean, do I wish I could give him more of my time? Of course. But having something else relying on me to function has forced me to take better care of myself. I couldn't keep working myself to the bone when I had this tiny thing who needed attention and, like, proper routine."

"They do say that having animals is good for your mental health," says Dan. "Maybe the routine thing is part of why."

"Not to mention the unconditional love." Phil grins and whistles over at a group of small dogs, who all perk up. "Thor, c'mere!"

Thor happily bounds over to them on his stout little legs, and Dan coos when Phil picks him up, sets him in Dan's lap. The dog seems fine with this development, giving Dan's nose a lick.

"Oh, hello," Dan breathes.

"What do you think?" asks Phil. "Is it worth turning down some work opportunities for this little dude?"

"Yes," says Dan. He's petting Thor and feels his eyes start to water when Thor lolls his tongue out in a goofy sort of grin. "Yeah, I mean - I personally still move around too much to get my own dog, but it makes sense for you. If I had a home base, maybe I'd consider it more seriously."

"Yeah," Phil agrees, sounding happy. Then he clears his throat. "Feel free to tell me off, but can I get a picture of the two of you? You're just so sweet with him."

"Course you can," says Dan. "Tag me on Instagram."

When he looks up from scratching Thor's ears, Dan is taken aback by the softness in Phil's expression. It's gone as soon as it appeared, fleeting, and Phil grins as he pulls out his phone. "I just figured you wouldn't want to, like, make this a public thing."

"I don't mind," says Dan.

There are some people who he probably would mind that for. Usually the same people who call him Dan even after he says not to. They just want to seem closer to him than they are in order to further their own agendas.

Phil isn't like that. Dan has known him for only a handful of days, but the man is so genuine in every interaction they've had that Dan doesn't feel like this is put on to gain some kind of audience.

It's fun and easy to let Phil take silly pictures of Dan, teary eyed with a dog in his lap. It's just as easy for Dan to take the phone out of his hand and snap a selfie of the three of them. And it's even easier still to take shots and short videos of Phil rolling around in the grass once Thor has had enough of sitting still. They go back and forth for what might be actual hours, training their phones on each other like they're just regular friends hanging out.

By the time Phil puts his phone away, Dan's stomach is grumbling loud enough for the whole park to hear.

Phil laughs, but it isn't a mean one. "C'mon, I should get Thor home, and you need to eat."

It isn't an invitation to keep hanging out, exactly, but it isn't a dismissal either. Dan is impressed by Phil's ability to walk a line like that, to keep his own feelings on the matter a complete mystery.

As much as Dan would love to spend the rest of the afternoon following Phil around like a puppy, he has to spend some time recharging or he'll hate himself tomorrow.

"Yeah, my leftover Domino's is calling my name," Dan says lightly. "Then I've got to prepare myself for the pure horror that will be tomorrow's interviews with teen magazines, what the fuck, I'm not a Jonas brother."

"Nice teen reference," Phil deadpans.

"Shut up," says Dan. He scratches Thor's little head, looking down at him so he doesn't have to look at Phil's reaction to his probably-desperate-sounding, "We've gotta do this again."

"We do," Phil says, all warm and happy in a way that makes Dan flush pink, bite his lip. "I had fun."

"Me too," Dan admits. He sticks his hands in his pockets so he doesn't reach for Phil, fidgeting with the inner fabric. "Like, a lot of fun. I don't get to do this a lot."

"I figured - and neither do I. Text me when you're done your interviews tomorrow, yeah?"

It's a good moment for them to hug again, probably, but Dan doesn't think he can handle that. The more time he spends around Phil, the harder it is to ignore how badly he wants to feel Phil pressed up against him.

With a promise to text and an awkward salute of a wave, Dan tries to walk away. He only gets a few feet when Phil calls, "Oi, Dan, hold up a second."

Okay, so he's not getting away without another hug after all. Dan takes a deep breath to brace himself before turning to Phil again. "Yeah?"

"You," says Phil, smiling wide, "still have my camera."

Dan narrowly avoids facepalming by digging in his backpack and muttering apologies. Phil just keeps smiling at him. When he takes the camera back, Phil's fingers brush against Dan's wrist in a way where Dan can't tell if it's intentional or not.

"Sorry," Dan says again.

"It's okay," says Phil. He bites his lip, just for a moment, and then waves with the hand holding Thor's lead. "See you around!"

--

Messaging Phil is the only thing that keeps Dan sane through the next few days of both print and filmed interviews, the same questions over and over, publications dying for a new tidbit of information so they can be the first to talk about it. Dan is used to all of that, at this point, but it doesn't make things any less repetitive.

Phil sends him photos of Thor and chatters about his own day and generally gives Dan something to look forward to. Dan doesn't think he's ever hit it off with someone so quickly.

Granted, Dan hasn't actively tried making new friends since uni. He's an adult now, which means he's got work friends and people he plays MMOs with and a bunch of acquaintances on his Facebook who can't wait to catch up whenever he's in town.

That's not the way this thing with Phil feels. It's just as easy as their day together had been, talking about everything under the sun between their various responsibilities.

They talk about movies and television and video games, where they find that they've got a lot in common; and they talk about music and books, where they find they don't have much overlap at all. But Phil listens to Dan's rant on why Janelle Monáe changed the concept album game and so Dan, in turn, lets Phil waffle on about Stephen King in the middle of the night.

The fact that he has trouble sleeping afterwards is entirely irrelevant.

Dan learns a lot about Phil over these days. Not all of it is good, but nothing makes the festering warmth in Dan's gut start to recede. He's got a crush, and it's getting worse by the day.

--

"What a cutie," is Jaime's opinion when she sees the photoset on AmazingThorgi that Dan has been tagged in, which includes six pictures of the two of them and Thor at the park.

"He takes crap selfies," Dan tells her in case she wants to snoop Phil's personal Insta.

Jaime quirks her thick eyebrows in a way that makes Dan feel wrong-footed, like she can see directly into his soul. "I meant the dog."

[five-wow]

10.01 thoughts (or basically a rambly recap, very spoilery, with a lot of caps lock abuse) under the cut!!! :D

JERRY’S BEEN SHOT. that’s not actually a surprise at this point in any way, but oh gosh, poor guy. “it hurts more than i thought it would.” oh no. :c

i’m confused though - grover’s there calling an ambulance, jerry is bleeding, steve is keeping pressure on the wound, but where’s danny? clutching his heart out of frame? OH WAIT he could be arresting ezra hassan, i suppose?

on screen: 2 weeks later. jfdkfjdk they resolved that cliffhanger in like, under thirty seconds.

love jerry’s longer curly hair! REALLY LOVE that jerry and junior are playing battleship, omg.

jerry thought about HIS DND BUDDIES WHEN HE GOT SHOT. i love him. (i’m also both worried about his mental health and glad they’re showing him actually feeling some repercussions from getting shot, aside from the flesh wound.)

tani and junior!!! are going to the opera!!! wonderful, i’m into it.

AH. here we have steve on his date, omfg. it all looks so pretty - the background, the restaurant, the date, steve. REALLY AWKWARD conversation though, fjdkfd. steve’s been hanging with danny too much - as soon as someone asks “what are you thinking” he just opens up his heart.

“it’s just crazy, you know. things that happen at work.” FDJKFDJF i’m glad he’s seeing that AFTER NINE YEARS.

DANNY CALLS. i’ve seen the clips that were drifting around tumblr, so i knew it was going to happen, but still. DANNY CALLS. IN THE MIDDLE OF STEVE’S DATE.

“i think it’s best,” steve says, about taking a phone call from danny while he’s in the middle of a first date with a really pretty woman who seems very kind about his total awkwardness, oh BOY

the WAY danny says “hi” just already has me in stitches. i die. and then steve’s “dude! i don’t know.” he sounds so frustrated! poor guy.

“words are kinda just, they’re falling out of my mouth, i don’t know why.” OH STEVE. also: that’s 80% of all fic in which steve finally confesses his feelings to danny ever. thank you, canon, for giving us a steve who is canonically prone to this.

“do you have any game at all?” danny asks, of steve, WHO HE IS CALLING IN THE MIDDLE OF A DATE. the co-dependency here is HIGH and it’s probably unhealthy but i’m enjoying it a lot, truly.

okay so, steve says “you’ve called twice, we haven’t even ordered!” and then DANNY SAYS “if you answered my texts, i wouldn’t have to call” and that’s just ALL SO BAD. they are TERRIBLE together and that woman should probably run far away.

danny! way to build up steve’s confidence on this date by telling him his thing is awkward and messing things up, holy shit.

I’M SCREAMING. “that was danny. who i love. very much.” I AM YELLING. YES. GOOD. PREMIUM CONTENT.

just. i love “i love you”s, okay. i love them. we got one (1) in s9 at the end of 9.01, but we’re off to a good start now in 10.01, with steve telling his frigging date that he loves danny, oh my.

IT GOT WORSE. i paused like, in the middle of steve’s sentence, and then as soon as i hit play the date said “sounds like my ex” and steve says “you know, it’s funny that you say that, because it’s kind of like a marriage” and uh, hello steve, i made a gifset about that the day before yesterday, thank you for giving me an update, but also just. wtf. wtf holy shit

i. i just. this is supposedly steve on a date with a woman being all heterosexual, but it’s really an extremely mcdanno scene, like ten times more than i was prepared for, wow.

real talk though, i’m almost certain this relationship isn’t going anywhere, but this woman seems really cool!!! i love her so far.

tani is actually enjoying the opera and junior seems to be paying more attention to her than the stage and i have no idea if this is actually an officially official date between them or if they’re still “just friends”, but it’s all so cute. and then, of course, some anonymous guy shows up with a sketchy briefcase that’s inevitably going to contain weapons, but oh well, it was nice for how long it lasted.

a slightly updated intro!!! katrina law is already in it (which i like) and the new group shot is kind of crowded but really nice, but fjdkfdjkdf they chose a really awkward moment where adam is supposedly typing something on the tech table but he’s REALLY OBVIOUSLY just randomly tapping his fingers on it. that’s going to haunt me. oh dear show runners, why.

danny... says steve was blowing his date, as they arrive on the crime scene that junior and tani found, and steve says he has a second date and danny goes “you got a second date?” incredulously and almost dismayed and that just really sounds like he WANTED steve to blow it. what is this, danny, setting steve up with a pretty woman from steve’s school to test him? see if he’ll say no and fall in your arms instead, and when he doesn’t, you’re disappointed?

even the lighting in this random stairwell gun fight chase scene is kind of pretty! the blue and red? i like it.

oh NO, steve, you’re not even ten minutes into a new season and you’re chasing some suicidally parcouring bad guy across roof tops and into a jump that’s REALLY going to give danny a heart attack, jesus.

fdjkfd danny telling steve that ten years ago he would’ve made that jump? telling him he’s forty? i’m not sure if that’s kind of mean or really good, but it might be both.

plot stuff happens, but i keep getting distracted by all the grey in steve’s beard and his new, longer hair. it’s good.

i like quinn’s introduction!!! i really do, more than i’d expected. and honestly, that déjà vu thing lenkov was talking about is very faint to me, to the point where it’s mostly just there because danny says it out loud in the text and then forcibly makes it so. they’re not in steve’s garage, it’s the wrong car they’re standing next to, there are three people instead of two and there’s no “one, two, three” and showing badges, but steve yeets his badge over the windshield of the car in quinn’s direction. the similarity isn’t that strong.

danny going “i gotta follow him” about steve and “i don’t know [shrugs]” about where they’re going is beautiful.

i’m about halfway through the episode now and steve and danny have spent SO MUCH time together and it’s really good but also has me slightly worried that they’re pushing all the steve&danny content for the entire season in one episode, omg. it’s good, though. i’m happy for now.

adam is still doing yakuza stuff. i get it, because it’s the one big thing they’ve given his character, but i do get kind of tired of it. he’s supposedly out, but every time they need it for plot reasons, he still has connections somewhere that are willing to help him for whatever reason.

and then quinn shows up and pulls a gun on adam, fjdkfd. listen, i know i said i was getting tired of him doing the yakuza thing over and over, but shooting him would be a little drastic.

danny: “this is good, we’re chasing a monster truck. that’s totally normal, right?” how is it that NOW they’re both suddenly realizing their lives are kind of crazy? they weren’t crazy before, guys? guys??

HAH, the guy in the truck drives over a dozen cars. that’s ridiculous, but a lot of fun, omg.

danny, when he finds tani and quinn in the same room at hq: “oh good, you two have met.” YES. MY SENTIMENTS. except i’m perhaps a little more exuberant about it. TWO MAIN FEMALE CHARACTERS IN ONE SCENE YES GOOD I LIKE THIS. we haven’t had this since... season 4, maybe? when catherine was briefly part of the team?

oh SHIT. danny: “are you sure you’re not related to steve in any way?” okay SO. we’re all assuming quinn is steve’s new love interest, but quinn being steve’s secret half sister somehow? also nonsense, but nonsense i’d like. and i mean, they need to keep the mcgarrett family drama alive somehow, so this could be fun.

quinn: “can’t this thing go any faster? [steve looks at her weird] what?” steve: “nothing. just never had that complaint before.” that is a LIE. i know for a fact that that’s a lie, because i have a stupid amount of knowledge of h50 of the top of my head and one of the things i know is that in 8.01 tani pops up between steve and danny while she’s in the backseat of the camaro and ALSO asks if it doesn’t go any faster. i know what they’re going for here, setting quinn and steve up as equals, and i like what they’re trying to tell us about quinn as a character in theory but come on, if you’re trying to convince us steve is all impressed by this woman that you might be setting him up with romantically, at least do some continuity fact checking on your own show, guys.

anyway! i do like that it’s canon that all women in five-0 think the camaro isn’t fast enough. get wrecked, steve and danny, HA.

when steve said to the bad guy “my friend lou here is going to put some handcuffs on you” i thought at first that he said “liu”, as in quinn’s last name, and oh man, first they had tani and junior’s last names as rey and reigns, which was close enough, but now they have lou and liu, gosh.

!!! this talk between steve and quinn in front of kamekona’s?? i LIKE IT. A LOT. we get to know a little more about quinn and steve genuinely does treat her as an equal and a capable colleague and there’s nothing especially romantic about this, which is good this early on even if they’re doing that later because i do feel like it could possibly work but right now it would just be really weird and very forced and i’m just really relieved that’s the dynamic they’re going for. this, this is good.

OH BOY. “we’re breaking up with you, danny” steve says. i... wow.

FAIR THOUGH. it’s probably a REALLY GOOD idea of steve to maybe involve danny a little less in his dating life if he wants to, well, actually have one that’s viable for life, but oh GOSH. danny going “you can’t cut me out” when steve tells him this? danny is just. so interested in steve’s romantic life, damn.

tani: “mom and dad are fighting again.” fdjkfdjk YES. this time it’s not even junior saying this to eddie behind steve and danny’s back, it’s just tani saying it out loud to the entire group and nobody says anything about it so uhhh that’s accepted fact then, within the team. GOOD.

ohhhh jerry is leaving. also not a real surprise and it’s probably kind of good that the team doesn’t endlessly keep growing if quinn joins this season, but ahh, i’m sad, anyway.

GROUP HUG. i love EVERY SINGLE THING ABOUT THIS.

oh gooood, somebody put a bomb in the champ box in steve’s garage. that’s harsh.

final thoughts: i LIKED THIS. very much!!! i’m relieved about that, tbh, because at least i’m happy about the start of the season, which seems like a good sign, haha. i love quinn so far, there was REALLY GREAT mcdanno stuff in this, i love that steve is dating again, tani and junior seem to be dating, jerry is fairly healthy and happy - all around lots of good stuff.

i do kind of think that cliffhanger from last season got extremely little attention (we didn’t even see ezra hassan get arrested, and what happened to her kid? where was danny? idk it was weirdly short and quick), but it’s still possible they’re coming back to that in a later episode, idk.

[stevie-baby]

@satans-helper​ thank you for tagging me love! This week has been rough, I have had a shit day looking for jobs, but now I’ve got a beer and I’m answering this because self care or whatever. Leggo!

1. What is your middle name?

Marlene

2. How old are you?

19

3. When is your birthday?

August 20th

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Leo sun; Capricorn rising; Taurus moon

5. What is your favourite colour?

Orange

6. What’s your lucky number?

8 or 20

7. Do you have any pets?

not any more :( but growing up I had a corgi mix named Lulu. She was dope. Fun lil origin story about her: my mom missed the majority of my first birthday becuase she had to stay late at work becuase her coworker’s dog was having puppies and had to leave early. My mom was like “Angela if I’m gonna be late for my kids birthday celebration can I at least get first pick of the puppies?” So when the puppies were finally able to go to different homes, my mom sat little one year old me in their pen to let me pick the one we’d take home. Something drew me to the runt of the litter (maybe it was the fact that she didn’t straight up attack me like her brothers and sisters) and she lived a happy 16 and a half years with us.

8. Where are you from?

Southern California

9. How tall are you?

5'6

10. What shoe size are you?

Womens 11 but I usually wear a mens 9.5 because I have wide feet

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Like 7 pairs (none of which are cowboy boots or gogo boots which is a travesty)

12. What was your last dream about?

I don’t remember but I know it wasn’t anything malicious, so that’s good.

13. What talents do you have?

I play instruments and I sing. I also do art occasionally.

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I wouldn’t say psychic but I am pretty in tune with the universe. But I do also have dreams that have to do with fertility that are like super heavy with symbolism and are oddly prophetic. I call them my egg dreams. If y’all wanna hear about them I make a post about them or something. 

15. Favourite song?

At the moment it is When the Levee Breaks by Led Zeppelin

16. Favourite movie?

Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Honestly? Honestly??? Sam Kiszka. I’ve always been into bassists and lanky boys with long dark hair, so he’s perfect. Also, I love his personality. He’s just magnetic and Joy is a lucky gal :)

18. Do you want children?

Not really. I’m 19, barely an adult, so kids aren’t in my plans right now. I’m not sure if they’ll ever be in my plans. But if I do decide I want children one day, I would want to have more than one because I am an only child and I wouldn’t want that for my kid. It gets lonely and I will never know or understand the bond that siblings have. Also I’d want adopt and foster some kids.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

Nope unless you count a chapel in Vegas as a church wedding. 

20. Are you religious?

Not religious, never grew up practising anything, but I’m spiritual.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Ooof I was always in and out of the hospital. I was always sick or getting injured.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

Not yet

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Quite a few. The most memorable experiences were pouring champagne for Drake Bell when I worked at the country club and when Jack Barakat from All Time Low and Ashley Purdy from Back Veil Brides were hitting on my mom,

24. Baths or showers?

Baths are really therapeutic but I feel bad because I’m not conserving water :(

25. What color socks are you wearing?

I’m barefoot babey ;) I’m starting to feel this beer 

26. Have you ever been famous?

Nope

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

Maybe, but probably not 

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Documenting that I’m now on my second Modelo, just so y’all know.

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

28. What type of music do you like?

All types honestly. I stray more toward rock though.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Let me tell you the story. So yes, I have skinny dipped. I was very not sober that night, much like tonight, and I was at a sleepover at my friend’s house on the lake. So all of us drunk 16 year olds were like “FUCK YEAH” and skinny dipped on the coldest night in February. It was transcendent. Later that night I gave myself a stck n poke tattoo :)

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

3 of em. One under my head, one between my knees, and one to hug

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

on my side, spoonin a pillow

32. How big is your house?

Big enough :)

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

coffee and OCCASIONALLY a plain eggo waffle

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

yup. took a gun safety class.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

yeah

36. Favourite clean word?

apothecary 

37. Favorite swear word?

fuck (issa classic)

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

74 hours. I was tweaking HARD and crying my fucking eyes out

39. Do you have any scars?

Yup

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

this would be a good time for someone to confess their love for me 👀

41. Are you a good liar?

I’m fantastic at lying

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I’d like to think so

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

a lot of em

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I was back in California for 4 and a half months, so my valley girl accent came back and stronger than ever.

45. What is your favourite accent?

Australian or Midwestern

46. What is your personality type?

old man in a teenage girl’s body

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

One of my formal dresses that was like $120

48. Can you curl your tongue?

yee

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie

50. Left or right-handed?

I’m ambidextrous

51. Are you scared of spiders?

not particularly

52. Favourite food?

Bean and cheese burrito or carne asada fries

53. Favourite foreign food?

Mexican food, but Chinese food is also near and dear to me (they’re kinda not foreign to me because I’m Chinese and Mexican

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

I’m messy in an organized way.

55. Most used phrase?

“Fuckin siiiiiiick, dude” and yes I sound like Nick Colletti when I say it. No, I’m not doing an impression, I’m just from SoCal and sound like a skater dude

56. Most used word?

fuck

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

About an hour or so

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I’m a Leo and I fit the description

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Lick

60. Do you talk to yourself?

Uh yeah who doesn’t????

61. Do you sing to yourself?

Always

62. Are you a good singer?

I’m not bad ;) I’m just a bit out of practice 

63. Biggest Fear?

failure i guess i dunno

64. Are you a gossip?

I was going to say no but I can’t lie. I don’t spread shit, but I’ll listen to some tea.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

Mid 90s was pretty intense. I dunno that’s the only one coming to mind at the momento

66. Do you like long or short hair?

depends on my mood

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

I’m just gonna say no. 

68. Favourite school subject?

History or science! Loved em

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Major introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

Hell naw. I can’t even watch underwater scenes in movies because I get anxious and I feel like I’m drowning

71. What makes you nervous?

Love/being loved

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Lil bit

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

yup and I do it politely so people can learn from it because I’m not a fuckin dick and I want people to thrive

74. Are you ticklish?

Yes

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

Not that I’m aware of

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

I was on student council does thaf countt??? I got put in charge of prom 2 years in a row because the peoplw that were put in charge fucked up and dropped the ball.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

Currently am. Not the first time nor will it be the last.

78. Have you ever done drugs?

Yeah, yeah I have.

79. Who was your first real crush?

This kid in first grade who had moved here from Russia. We were sat next to each other because our names both started with Z. He was fucking rad. i helped him study for his citizenship test and taught me phrases in Russian. 

80. How many piercings do you have?

seis. five in my ears and one in my nostril

81. Can you roll your R’s?

Yup yup yup. I speak Spanish so its kinda essential

82. How fast can you type?

Fast enough

83. How fast can you run?

I’m asthmatic and have bad feet/knees/hips/spine, ya know what my bones are fucked upp let’s justgo with that

84. What colour is your hair?

Dark brown, almost black.

85. What color is your eyes?

Brown

86. What are you allergic to?

Cats :( and pollen and shit like that

87. Do you keep a journal?

yeah imean i forget about it sometimes but its nice to vent or reminisce

88. What do your parents do?

They both work in the automotivw industry at separate companies on separate sides of the country

89. Do you like your age?

Nope. I’m at a weird transitional phase of being an adult but also still a kid but I don’t relate to most teenagers and I also can’t legally drink here in the states. Issa bummer ya know???.

90. What makes you angry?

We don’t have time for this and i ont have the mental capacity for iteither

91. Do you like your own name?

Fuck no. My name is Zoeie, acomplicated variant of Zoe. Its dumb and I misspell t a lot becauseI’m a whole dumbass and I remember in like fifth grade there was four other gorls wiyh the same name and we all spelled it differentlu (oooo I’m buzzed) Also, dann the man wagner’s dog is named Zoeie and I’m like coolcoolcooltighttighttight I have the same name as his dog thats fuckin siiiiick dude sarcassssssm it bums me out and i dunno why (I’d rather go by Zee or Z on here but if you want to call me Zoeie that’s fine, I’m ccool with it, I just think its dumb because of the spelling its actually not that bad of a name i’m just buzzed and salty)

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I don’t really wantt kids but if I were ever to have gremlins I’d say Stephanie Renee (Stephanie after Stevie Nicks and we’d use Stevie as her nickname; Renee is my mom’s middle name) for a hypothetical daughter and Harrison James (Harrison after the fucking superior Beatle; James after Jimmy Page and Jimi Hendrix. Basically just after guitar gods) for a hypothetical son. But I’m assuming there’d be another person involved in making that decision in that situation soooo

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

I am but a wee child, I don;’t want chilren. Also why the fuck would I want something specific??? you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit. Love your children or some shit like that.

94. What are you strengths?

I can get up in the morning and I thinf that;s real swell of me

95. What are your weaknesses?

I’m a fucking perffectionist anand I get in myown head a lot

96. How did you get your name?

I was nameless for the first day of my life and this was the first name my parents agreed on. Its spelled real fuckin dumb though. And my middle name was my grandma’s middle name.

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

Naw but they were royal guards wayyy back in the Ming dynasty. 

98. Do you have any scars?

am i tripppin large wit no luggage or did i answer this arleady???? the answer is yeah

99. Colour of your bedspread?

Navy

100. Colour of your room?

its cream we’re renting this place booooo

I don’t thinkk I’mma tag anyone because my braindoen’;t want to work ahora mismo and I can’t think of who to tag but I LOVE y’all even if idon;t talk to you I love you and appeciate you thank you if you read this :,)

[sophygurl]

WisCon 43 panel Antisemitism at WisCon

   Over the course of its existence, there have been many examples of antisemitism at WisCon—a trend often echoed in other leftist spaces, where microaggressions to naked hostility to just plain erasure keep occurring. Let's talk about why this continues to happen, why it's so rarely talked about, and what we can do to prevent it.

Moderator: Becky Allen. Panelists: Gerri Balter, Paul Goodman, Jessica Plummer

Disclaimers: These are only the notes I was personally able to jot down on paper during the panel. I absolutely did not get everything, and may even have some things wrong. Corrections by panelists or other audience members always welcome. I name the mod and panelists because they are publicly listed, but will remove/change names if asked. I do not name audience members unless specifically asked by them to be named. If I mix up a pronoun or name spelling or anything else, please tell me and I’ll fix it!

[Quick Notes: 1) This panel was created in large part (though not exclusively) due to a panel that I also attended last year and wrote my notes up about - which can be found here for my tumblr post and here for my DW post - each having their own replies/comments for anyone who wants to see those. The panel last year, called The Desire for Killable Bodies, went sideways when one of the panelists started spouting nazi apologism and other awful things. There’s a context for all of this, which is why I’m linking to my panel write-ups as they served as a space for others to share what they heard and experienced so that you can understand this context and also understand that this wasn’t just a couple of people upset - there was a large audience for this panel and lots and lots of us were upset, and lots of us made reports to the concom, and there is a consensus about what happened. 2) I add all of this because the panel I’m about to write up also had a disturbance in regards to what happened last year and I want to make sure there is full context for what happened with That, as well. 3) Also of note: I had to edit out the tags “nazis” and “antisemitism” for my linked post to appear in my own tags on my own tumblr blog so fuck that noise. I’m getting angrier and angrier about tumblr’s tagging rules - we should be able to tag shit like that for content warnings for fuck’s sake. Anyway, on to the actual write-up. 4) Well, one last note - the panel is, obviously, talking about incidents of experienced antisemitism at both WisCon and in other leftist spaces and it was hard for me, who is not Jewish, to take that all in. So be prepared that this is a difficult, but very important, conversation about to be reported on.]

Notes:

Becky began the panel by saying she was both sad and glad to be doing this. Everyone on this panel is Jewish, and everyone on the panel has experienced antisemitic microaggressions here at WisCon at some point or another.

Jessica said the incident last year was the most extreme one, but certainly not the first.

Paul introduced himself as a lawyer for public policy at a non-profit and said that he has experienced antisemitism here and in every progressive space he’s ever been in.

Gerri introduced herself saying that she is 74 years old and that she has experienced antisemitism her whole life. Her parents escaped the Ukraine after WWI and she grew up hearing horror stories.

Becky gave some background on what happened at the Killable Bodies panel last year. She added that safety did a good job at handling things after it all happened. 

Jessica added that she proposed this panel due to what happened at that panel.

At this point, someone in the audience popped in, asking if we were going to talk about the specifics of that panel and arguing about what was really said. It was clear that this person was friends with the panelist who said the offending comments last year and he was defending her and arguing with the panelists about their own experiences at that panel. Both Jessica and Becky worked to shut him down, and I noticed several folks in the audience standing up and getting ready to escort this person out if necessary. Becky finally said that if he kept on, he would have to leave - or he could be quiet and remain and listen. He chose to remain quiet, and remained so for the duration (at least to my knowledge - he was seated a bit away from me, but I didn’t hear any more interruptions, at least). 

Jessica went back to explaining about how she proposed this panel. She was worried there might not be enough people to be on the panel - some of the people she approached had said maybe, to go ahead and suggest the panel and put them on as possibilities. 

[As a side note - there are a couple of ways of staffing a panel like this. One, which is what Jessica did, is to suggest some possible panelists and programming can see about adding them to the list but other people can still volunteer to be on the panel. The other is to hand-staff a panel, which means the person proposing the panel has already specified who should be on the panel and it is otherwise closed to other panelists. This is often done when a panel absolutely has to have a certain demographic - such as a panel like this which necessitates an all Jewish panel or a panel about trans issues where you want everyone on the panel to be trans, etc.]

So, Jessica had gone with that first way and suggested some possible panelists, but there was a mix-up with programming and all of the names of the suggested panelists were listed as panelists, the panel was closed to volunteers, and private communication that Jessica had submitted to programming was also added to the published panel information. 

This was problematic for a number of reasons. One reason is that the people Jessica has suggested were all people in her own friend group, which included mostly people similar to herself. This was keeping voices different from herself from being on the panel, including people marginalized for other reasons. 

Another problem was the listing of names of people who had not decided if they wanted to be on the panel or not. For obvious historical reasons (and the panel gets into this in more detail a little later), public lists of Jewish people causes a lot of anxiety for Jewish folks. 

At this point, Becky and Jessica acknowledged that most microaggressions are not intentional. They don’t think, for example, that programming did any of this on purpose. 

Gerri said that she wasn’t here last year, but that she’s been coming to WisCon for a long time. She said WisCon used to be mostly people talking about books they’ve read. She remembers many years ago when she’d read Wandering Stars: A Jewish Anthology of Fantasy and Science and Fiction by Jack Dann and she was excited to be reading stories about Jews in space. 

Gerri recommended the book to someone at WisCon and that person kind of took a step back and said “I didn’t know you were one of those.” Everyone else in the group walked away, leaving her to confront this on her own. He then asked her if her name was her real name. 

Gerri was raised by parents who were always telling her to get ready for when she was no longer welcomed. But even living in a world with a lot of overt antisemitism, she didn’t really believe them about that until the moment described above.

Paul talked about how 11-20% of Jews in the US are POC, that Jews are poor and middle class at the same rates as everyone else, and that these are things people don’t always understand. He also said they were not going to discuss Israel on this panel, adding there could be a whole entire con just about that, but that one thing that happens, especially in leftist spaces, is a conflation of Israel with Zionism and Zionism with Judaism and Judaism with every individual Jewish person. 

Jessica told about a panel a few years back about Agent Carter. The focus was on the lack of diversity, which was true. But season two heavily implied that Howard Stark came from a Jewish family who had changed their name. The moderator of that panel waved it away as not very important. Jessica, in the audience, had tweeted using the # for the panel about how significant that representation was to her. The mod saw the tweet during the panel and apologized. 

Jessica also said that friends of hers who were not here shared their own stories about incidents involving everything from off-color Anne Frank jokes to serious incidents that were brought to safety. 

Becky said that they all kept repeating that they know most of these things are not malicious, but she wants to acknowledge that they still hurt. She wants people to think harder about these things, but she’s not trying to call specific people out right now. 

Becky added that as a white Jewish person, she’s in a liminal space of privilege and oppression. She notes that leftists do these kinds of microaggressions a lot, but they’re the ones that should care about Not doing them.

Gerri talked about how fandom began with a lot of Jewish people. So when she got into it, she felt it would be safe. Many cons used to have spaces for services programmed in and one even had a Passover room with food they could eat during the holiday. She’s not sure how or when that went away, but she misses it. Some of it might be the lack of ability to accommodate all religions.

Gerri also talked about conversations that end up leading to “those Jews and their banks”. She objects, but has been told she doesn’t understand because she’s Jewish. “I understand I didn’t have toys as a child because we were too poor.” People try and take it back and it can be hard not to just say it’s okay. 

Jessica talked about more of these things people believe falsely about Jewish people. One is the “Christ killer” thing. In a poll she saw, 60% of Americans believe that Jews killed Jesus. Actually - it was the Romans.

Paul said intent in these things doesn’t always matter. For example, he was told Jews make the best lawyers - this is supposed to be a compliment, but it isn’t. 

Paul and Jessica talked about some of the antisemitic dog whistles that people use such as “globalist” and “lizard people” - it used to be “Hollywood.” 

Becky added that there are a lot of fannish memes that use the lizard people one - folks don’t get that it originates from antisemitism. (Example: “I, for one, support our new lizard overlords.”)

Becky also talked about growing up in a small town where hers was the only Jewish family. She was asked if she had horns, and was asked to come to church with friends so that she wouldn’t go to hell. 

Becky said that Jewish people are always in fear of when it might be time to pack up and leave. Trumpism is making that fear feel very real right now. The idea of knowing there are people in her neighborhood who want her dead is hard. But it’s also hard that with the people she organizes with politically - events are often held on Jewish holidays. “I can’t organize on Yom Kippur - I’m too hungry!” 

Jessica talked about a time she was in France and didn’t want to go with friends to the Jewish museum because she didn’t want to telegraph her Jewishness. She grew up in Brooklyn and believed when she was younger that all white people were Jewish. Then she moved to NJ and heard her first Jewish jokes, and learned about “looking Jewish.” 

Jessica told a story about a boy she and her friend both had a crush on. But then she heard this boy make a joke about someone who was Jewish, saying “oh he must be hiding in the oven.” Her friend said it was no big deal and that Jews should get over the holocaust. 

Jessica said that the holocaust was the largest manifestation of antisemitic genocide, but that is because technology allowed it to be. Jewish history is full of examples of genocide. The joke about Jewish holidays is “they tried to kill us, they failed, let’s eat.”

Paul brought up the concept of generational trauma. Even if it hasn’t happened to you or in your lifetime, knowing your culture’s history and being told about it from your elders instills trauma all the same.

Becky posed the question to the panelists of how they would like to see WisCon and other spaces supporting Jewish people.

Paul talked about Jewish holidays not being recognized. Also - when antisemitic microaggressions happen - someone else needs to step in. It can’t only be Jewish people doing the work themselves.

Gerri said to simply think before speaking and if something comes out bad - apologize and mean it. Then work harder at it.

Jessica said she thought the idea of services was a good one. She added that she requested this panel be on a Sunday due to Shabbat.

Jessica would also like more recognition about the pluralism of Jewishness. And generally just more axis of diversity when it comes to all religions.She notes that even discussions of atheism tend to come through a Christian lens. 

Becky said that a lot of things that are considered to be secular or neutral are not. For example: Christmas.

Jessica added she’d like the removal of the phrase Judeo-Christian. It means nothing. If you mean Abrahamic religions, say that, and make sure you’re including Islam. 

Gerri advised asking questions so that you don’t unintentionally hurt people.

Becky talked about a panel this year about Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and The Good Place. Someone had said that Judaism was not used in the main character on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Becky had raised her hand to say that no, her Judaism was important. The panelist apologized and admitted they were out of their lane. It was a good exchange. If something is said wrong in good faith - it’s not an issue for it to be brought up.

Jessica added that one of the core values of Judaism is asking questions. 

That said, Becky said it was time for audience questions but set some guidelines first. No talking about Israel, as that’s a derail. No oppression olympics. The panelists are allowed to stop or to just not answer if they wish. And there will be no denying any of the panelists experiences. 

The first audience question was about how to better understand Jewish experiences. 

Gerri didn’t have a specific rec because each book or perspective is just one out of many.

Jessica talked about the difficulty in rec-ing a list of Jewish authors without creating a Nazi hit list. But she added that a lot of our pop culture is Jewish - comic books, comedy, musical theater, etc. 

Gerri rec’d an old movie - Gentleman’s Agreement with Gregory Peck. 

Paul said that a useful exercise is when watching media and a Jewish character is on screen - how are we being treated? Often, it’s not good. 

An audience member rec’d the wikipedia article on antisemitism. 

Becky said - what if we stopped having space Jews who are greedy, such as the Ferengi. 

Jessica said the only good Jews in space is Mel Brook’s Jews in Space.

Someone in the audience discussed the conspiracy theories about cabals and Jewish people having secret privilege. This undercuts the actual oppression of Jewish people. Antisemitism is getting bolder again, so we have to be more loud about confronting it. There is a culture of assimilation due to the fear of “being on the list” and the trauma around that. The audience member acknowledged they were layering questions within questions, but Jessica said “no, this is very Jewish, keep going!” 

Gerri said that when she was growing up, Jews were loud. Her mom would tell her to be more quiet or they’ll think you’re Jewish. She was like, well I am Jewish! But there can be a real fear that being loud might cause you to die. 

Paul recommends punching Nazi’s every day. 

Jessica advised allies to ask how to best support. She gave the example of the triple parenthesis issue on twitter, which was something supremacists were using to designate people they thought were Jewish. Some people started using the triple parenthesis on purpose in protest, but this was very upsetting to a lot of Jewish people due, again, to the issue of the list, being publicly Jewish, the generational trauma there, etc. Jessica said to speak for Jewish people when necessary, but never over them.

Becky asked the panelists for last words or rec’s.

Gerri said Isaac Asimov

Paul said there are lots of resources at Jews for Racial and Economic Justice.

Becky said Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, also the author Katherine Locke - specifically The Girl with the Red Balloon, a time travel book with Jewish characters. 

Jessica said there are too few YA speculative fiction books with Jewish characters. She does recommend early comics by Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, etc. Superman, Spider-Man, and others are all based on Jewish themes. She also recommended the first Independence Day movie and Rose Lerner’s romance novels. 

And that’s all I got! Also my last write-up for this year. The other panels I attended, I just didn’t get enough decent notes down to make a write-up worthwhile. Might make a round-up post and add some comments on the panels I was on, but not sure. 

[queerofcups]

hi dann, you're under no obligation to answer this & this isn't dnp related- I just have a question- what are your opinions on the usage of the word queer? is it a slur? because that's what I identify myself as because everyone made me feel uncomfortable when I fit in with the pansexual label & I feel like queer fits, and I need an opinion from someone who identifies as queer as well. I've been having an identity crisis for a while and yeah. ty btw, ily and I hope you're having a great day💘🌈

lol y’all are so sweet, don’t worry, I don’t answer things I don’t want to answer. 

i think queer is a reclaimed slur. which means that it has been used violently towards large groups of LGBTQ+ folks in the past and is still used violently toward some LGBTQ+ people currently. I think that its an individual’s right to ask people not identify them that way. People still get verbally and physically abused for being LGBTQ and absolutely still get called queer while that happens. I get annoyed with people who identify as queer or hate the whole q-slur thing because they tend to erase that experience, and that’s bullshit.

Now what an individual doesn’t get to do is dictate the way you identify or, in my opinion, the way you identify people like you. Hence, reclamation. Now, I personally subscribe to the “if you wouldn’t be called it, don’t use it” school of thought around reclaimed slurs, (hence why I, a pansexual or bisexual, feel just fine using the word dyke, because no one’s going to ask about me or my spouse’s gender identity before spewing shit at us, y’know?) so I get squirrelly around straight people using the term queer all willynilly (though that’s apparently also a regional thing). 

Tbh, I also think that the whole discourse around the word queer is just like, us language policing ourselves out of any sort of radicalness. Like yes, queer meant bad and wrong and not straight and not cis and sexual in the wrong way (as if all of those things are synonymous) and that’s why...it is powerful to reclaim it? Like for a long time a lot of the queer community reveled in being counter hegemonic ideals of “normalcy” coming from straight people. And now its like “gasp you’re calling yourself a slur you’re letting them wiiiiiiin”, like no. Yes, I’m queer and yes, I fuck in a way that makes you uncomfortable and yes, I pick and choose what social gender markers I’m interested in and yes, you probably hate me for all. And I’m proud of all of it. Because despite all of that hate for all of the ways I live my life, like bitch I’m here, I’m queer, get used to it. 

there’s also a whole other arm here about how the people railing against people calling themselves queer are also the people who are like omggggg you can only use femme if you’re a lesbian because the 50s!!!, like a large fraction of the people we called lesbian historically weren’t id’ing as some kind of bi or pansexual at some point. when will we acknowledge that both history and identity shirk rigidity like no one’s business. 

and tbh, shout out to the people that actively identify as f*gs and dykes and tr**ny as well who are probably so fucking sick of this conversation too because its so fucking boring and old and erases so much of our culture in the name of.......honestly I’m not sure what the point of the whole q-slur thing is. 

tll;dr, i’m queer, i think the q-slur shit is silly 95% of the time, identify how you like (within reason, don’t be that white person that’s like ~*i’m two-spirit*~) and go outside and experience life outside of tumblr where i swear to you people aren’t examining your identity calling card with a magnifying glass.