#i am literally sobbing over how tiny this tea pet is

[mehoymalloy]

It smol.

[stupid-stew]

i took notes on the art stream dana did tonight in my own way, yes this is also what my school notes look like so my formal apologies

dana didn’t have many friends or anything in college (self defined recluse)

king is the hardest character to draw due to his specific skull shape

dana loves pokemon and the king resemblance is a coincidence, and she drew everyone to be RIPPED

XENA THE WARRIOR PRINCESS WITH THE ABS LMAOOOO

young entrepreneur out here art queen getting that bag WHY WAS SHE MAKING SHIP ART OF HER CLASSMATES FOR MONEY AT THE AGE OF LIKE 11 IM SOBBING

king ruined the sand castle :(

the mcdonald’s coffe, it sucks apparently

insomnia dana supremacy, felt that

DANA WINS ROUND 1 (against her will)

side note i think i need to start watching more anime, that’s just for me the remember tho

“let’s get weird”- dana terrace 2021

“give us the most uncomfortable furby suggestions please”- also dana terrace 2021

FANFICTION JOURNALS CAN WE GET THOSE PUBLISHED

hard time communicating outside of drawings (one of us 👹)

toh is script driven, sicknasty

her test was turned away SPILL THE TEA

dana proposes to furby suggestion giving chat member

8months struggling for job

turned away from power puff girls boooo

“i called up a friend and we had a drink and i cried :(“ -dana

FURBY WITH HUMAN ANATOMY

YES YES YES MITCHELLS YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

the director had to fight to make the furby scene happen and sir we appreciate it

“androgyny is beautiful”- dana, about a furby

yes girl let jesus take the wheel on that anatomically correct furby

WHY WAS SHE TRYIKG TO TEACH HER FURBY DO CURSE THATS SO FUNNY

“fuck you! fuck you!”- not dana’s furby

$80,000 in debt for this

“shit shit fuck shit”

“as good friends, as disney would say”

dana trying not to lose her job

“AH GOD NO THE FEET THE FEET”

straight black coffee you psycho

DANA LOOSES TO THE CURSED FURBY

HAHAHA TINY NOSE IN THE SIGIL

cannot cook, girlboss, win dana with food

CATBOY SHREK

catchphrase? “AAAAAAAHHH”

scared of spiders

do not wake the cat

“is that a pile of garbage or is that ur self esteem after i fucking demolish you”

-dana terrace 2021

the iconic “byeeeee” was difficult

why can’t she draw shrek

“i need validation please jesus christ”

-dana terrace 2021

someone buy this woman the cat gamer headphones alex hurry up

she does not like the booth but she does it for us thank you queen

dana fainted getting a stick n poke rip

AWWW SHE GOT STEVE BLOOM THATS SO CUTE FOR HER

SHE DISLIKES FANTASY???? BOI WHAT THE HELL BOI

at least she’s having a good time making her own gross little fantasy land, improvise adapt overcome

dana unlocks the idea of things being done in different ways and have them all be good for the masses

“limitation breeds invention”

“wow ur really wise dana”

“….thanks dawg”

“well i didn’t have friends… no one laughed.”

i want the little comics of her pets

cat person dana

DANA WINS CATBOY SHREK

awww little stick and poke on her ankle

does not celebrate her birthday

OOOH THE HAMMERHEAD IS HER FIRST ONE I LOVE THAT ONE

#mood bunny

KERMIT ON STEROIDS

“how can we make this weird” GIRL IT IS KERMIT ON S T E R O I D S

HER LITTLE LAUGH IM SOBBING

this is literally psychological warfare

dana has not watched the muppets but she knows him drinking the tea so winning

DANA THE ANGST QUEEN LMAO

she’s proud about her making dipper and mable fight

DANA ANIMATED FOR NEXT WEEK MARK UR FREAKING CALENDARS

hooty is the owl house canon?

i wish the owl house was like a creature that would have been so funny

CAT APPEARS

season 2 is outline heavy when it comes to the writing

dana knows what she wants for season 2 and we love that

execs up the wall on season 1

DANA LOSES MUSCLE KERMIT

dana has not found the character porn! keep it up girl! stay over there!

oooh bike queen

SWING DANCE OH MY GOD

TAP DANCING

THIS WOMAN IS AN ICON I LOVE HERRRR

yes get that energy out girl

ddr stan, loses to matt braly at gravity falls team bowling hang out

cat is sad :( give her a snack :(

AWW GHOST HAS ASTHMA omg kinnie moment

conspiracy theory enthusiast when intoxicated

vaccination queen

does not believe in ghosts, kill me girl i’ll haunt you don’t worry i’ll prove it

DOG WORKING IN A CAFE

“the ow house get ready to get some boo boo”- this other guy because it made me cry

“you’re gonna have to pay me to write shit because i don’t work for free”

not a music person

DO A FLIP

dana do a flip for charity please i’ll donate like an organ or something

she can canonically do a flip and she’s not gonna show us this is homophobic

AH FUCK MY STREAM CUT OUT

her neighbor is parking yes get it

draw left hand

while holding pen wack

do it in online version of ms paint

“MS pain”- dana not finishing her word

and stick and poke

show us the work stuff dana >:(

an ARTIST

“he’s a strong independent dog”

“4 minutes 20 seconds 😏 h e h e h e”

WHY CANT WE SEE HER HEADBANG THIS IS SO RUDE

not the muscle pulling girl not now

“also dog”

CHAMPION DANA

IMAGINE DANA CALLING UR ART CUTE

H E L P THE FURBYS I CSNOT

ghost gets rejected

“he’s not impressed with ur bullshit”

catra shrek fan girl moment

dana has probably done drugs

“i am a fan of waluigi”

AN ITALIAN POLITICIAN SMACK TALKING THE OWL HOUSE LMAOSJB

note to self dana will only marry you if you look like kermit the frog

also dog comes from a land where dogs eat people at starbucks

LOWES AD

“he’s making out with it! he’s using tongue!”

there are bouncers in cafes where also dog comes from

dana has worked the cash register

someone make real witch merchandise

Q AND A YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

hooty is he has a very he has more he has a backstory it exists it’s written out but we might not ever get it because it’s just for her dana please i am on my knees

would play dnd if she could

favorite episodes haven’t even aired but currently is echoes of the past or keeping up a fear ances because they’re personal especially a fear ances

TOO LATE FOR EXTENDED SEASON THREE BOARDING HAS STARTED IM GOING TO CRY

SPIN-OFFS SHORTS AND COMICS STILL ALLOWED IM LITERALLY DEAD ON THE INSIDE

mentally she is thriving with the show and it’s going to end well 🙏

“it’s just my voice :(“

BYEEEEEEE

[jawnjendes]

no medicine is strong enough | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: a continuation of it came back for more. a bit angsty. a bit real for me. enjoy.

masterlist | series playlist

“I told you not to go to class!” Stella snapped at me.

I had only taken one step inside my dorm, and I was composing myself. The pain in my abdomen hadn’t subsided in the last few days, even with the help of antibiotics. I had been hoping to keep this little health issue from Stella until finals were over, but Shawn took the liberty of texting her what had happened last weekend after the movie. That prompted Stella to put me on strict bedrest, but I didn’t listen. There were other things to worry about, like my job that was ending soon and, as I said before, finals.

“It’s exam season, dude,” I justified, slowly settling myself on the couch. I was winded after walking across campus, struggling to catch my breath. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t lean against the wall in the hallway on the way here.

“You can make up for those!” she told me as she reached over to feel my forehead. “You’re really warm! You have a fever! Again!”

So it wasn’t just pain. It was fatigue I had never felt before, a fever every so often, and a severe lack of appetite. On the TMI side, it was vomiting (though there was hardly anything in my stomach) and odd bowel movements. Oh, and I got chills from the walk back from my stats final.

Stella grabbed me a blanket and made me some chamomile tea. I couldn’t hold it down.

Don’t get me wrong, when this started happening, I went to the doctor. But I only went because when I met Shawn’s mother, Karen, she insisted and all but threatened to drag me out the door by my ankles. Anyway, I had a case of diverticulitis, an infection in my large intestine. The doctor prescribed some antibiotics to kill the infection and sent me home. Simple as that.

Let me just say, those antibiotics did fuck all. It was a miracle I was able to function, although yesterday Stacy sent me home about thirty minutes into my shift. I also missed the classes leading up to finals, and I almost opted out of taking my finals altogether. To say I wasn’t worried would be a lie.

I stayed in the bathroom for the remainder of the day. I was on the floor in front of the toilet, wrapped up in a fluffy grey blanket, shivering so much my jaw was chattering. My phone had been going off since I got home, and I could only assume it was Shawn. Stella probably told him I went to class and now he was lecturing me over text. I felt too tired to grab the stupid device and read tiny words on the stupid screen.

Out in the living room, Stella was on the phone. She was speaking clearly, but I couldn’t process any of her words. This stuff wasn’t new for me, apart from some of the symptoms, there wasn’t need for panic. I could sleep on the floor again, it’s fine…

“She’s literally sleeping in the bathroom!” Stella’s frantic voice said. “She still has a fever and she can’t hold down liquids! I don’t know what to do anymore!”

I tried to stand so I could reassure her that it was just another bad flare up, but the sharp pain in my stomach caused me to hunch over and cry out. “Ow! Fuck!”

Stella was at the doorway in a flash, phone still pressed to her ear. “What is it? What hurts?”

My arm went across my middle, and I focused on the pain. It was the left side of my abdomen, that’s where the doctor said this kind of pain occurs. I tried shifting my position, just as a last minute attempt to see if it was a nasty cramp. The pain remained constant, and it was really starting to annoy me. I wanted to puke and shit myself all over again.

The only noises I could hear were my own agonizing groans and Stella babbling on the phone. She was still at the doorway, watching me lean over the toilet. Finally, she hung up and went to my side.

“Shawn is coming over,” she said, “he’s gonna take you to the hospital.”

~

I’ve gone to the doctor way too many times for someone my age. I’ve sat in LabCorp waiting rooms at the asscrack of dawn to get my blood drawn at least five times in a month. I knew the paperwork that was required for a CT scan or MRI like the back of my hand; The receptionist at the imaging place back home in California knew me by name. I have never been admitted to the hospital, ever. I was never so sick that it required a visit to the emergency room, where Shawn had driven me today.

He had to carry me into the ER. It’s not that I couldn’t walk, he just didn’t want me to. I didn’t argue, I felt weak enough as it is.

A nurse approached us while I was still in his arms, but I couldn’t make out any words being said. The pain wasn’t a sound, but it was all I could focus on, I just wanted to be free of it already.

Shawn was instructed to place me on a gurney that came out of nowhere, and then I was surrounded by two nurses in green scrubs and a doctor in red. My eyes searched around for my boyfriend, who seemed to disappear as soon as I was let go. The medics were talking to one another, shooting hospital lingo I couldn’t understand even though I watched way too much Grey’s Anatomy.

The doctor in red touched my stomach with firm fingers, and it made me cry out and sob.

“I’m sorry dear, I know it hurts,” he said. He was an older man. I tried to connect him to one of the doctors on Grey’s for my own sanity. My mind was blank. “We’re going to help you, alright?”

“You!” one of the nurses, a tall blonde lady, pointed to Shawn, who had backed up against the wall. “What other symptoms has she had?”

I turned my head to properly look at him; He looked just as scared, but he spoke to the nurse. I decided to close my eyes and not let anyone else see my fear. I listened to the footsteps surrounding me, but it only made my heart pound and more tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I tried whispering my calming mantras but instead, some stupid song lyrics came out of my mouth.

“When everything you know has come and gone… you’re at your lowest, I am rising higher…”

My hand balled into a fist as a needle was inserted into my arm. An IV, probably. I could barely hear Shawn’s voice over the commotion in the ER. Must have been a busy day.

“Only scars remain of who I was… what I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire…” I whispered, my voice shaking.

The gurney moved in a certain direction, hitting a bump on the floor, and I cried out again. The nurses profusely apologized and then informed me that I was going to get a CT scan. But first, morphine.

By the time I was lying outside the giant scanning machine, my dark clothes swapped for a grey hospital gown, my veins were filled with the happy shit. The pain was gone, and I was feeling too good. I never had a scan like this. Usually, I was told to drink some gross contrast and then they would inject me with more of it. I always had an anxiety attack in the middle of CT scans, but this one was different.

“I know how this works, Susan,” I said to the technician, who was changing the IV bag I was hooked up to. “Arms up, pics without contrast, and pics after you hook me up with contrast. Then I go radioactive for like ten seconds and I feel like I’ve wet myself. Am I right, Susan?”

“This isn’t your first rodeo, I take it,” the tech replied. “And my name is Chad.”

After the scan, I was sent to a bed in the emergency room. The same tall, blonde nurse brought Shawn back to me and informed us both that my scan results would be back within the hour. Then she closed the curtain around the bed to give us privacy.

Shawn had a clipboard in his hand, which I figured was for me. However, he just stood at the foot of my bed and stared at me. I usually would internally cringe at his gaze, but instead I smiled and waved.

He returned the smile weakly and went to the chair next to me. Then he handed me the clipboard. “I tried to fill out what I could, but… I realized I don’t even know your birthday, much less your medical history. Here.”

“Thank you, my angel,” I told him.

“They gave you something for the pain, eh?” he guessed.

I scribbled on the board, answering all the questions and putting down my information. I wasn’t completely out of it, I was just talking more than necessary. More than I normally would.

“Oh, I’m feeling good,” I said. “Nothing hurts, and that took away my fear. I was afraid I was gonna die. Like, I’m really afraid of dying.” I chuckled.

Shawn didn’t have anything to say to that. He had his eyebrows raised in shock, but he stayed quiet.

“Just don’t tell anyone,” I warned, signing my name on the forms with a loud scribble, “I have a reputation to keep up.”

I put the clipboard aside and looked at my boyfriend. Worry lines were on his forehead, and I just wanted to kiss them away.

“You’re so pretty it’s unreal,” I said in a dreamy tone.

“Aw, thank you honey.” He smiled, but there was still concern in his eyes. “You’re pretty too.”

“I know, thank you. Can you hand me my wallet, sweet boy?”

“Keep giving me cute nicknames and I’ll do whatever you want.”

My unusual affection seemed to cheer him up. Over the next hour, I gave Shawn just about every cheesy pet name in the book. Baby boy, my love, my dear, darling, sweetheart. He savoured every moment of my drugged up ass.

“Let me hold you bubby!” I whined. “Lay on top of me!”

“I can’t do that, baby,” he told me. “Just tell me how much you love me instead.”

I clumsily patted his big tattooed hand. “I can’t do that. The universe will hear about my happiness and take it away from me.”

“The universe will never know,” he reassured, taking my hand in both of his.

“It already does. When we wrote the prettiest song in the world, I let myself be happy. Now, I’m in the ER with some real gnarly abdominal pain.”

Shawn had a thoughtful look on his face. I noticed his eyes fall a little, like he was sad. “Those two things are unrelated, baby.”

“Mm, but the timing was suspeeshy. I overcome my craziness, and I let someone love me, and boom. We’re in a large room full of the sick and injured.”

“Hey, you just have some tummy pain. They’re probably gonna give you more antibiotics and we’ll be on our way.”

I quickly shushed him. “The universe will hear you!”

And it did. The man doctor in red scrubs opened my curtain a few minutes later.

“Hi, Dr. Susan!” I greeted.

“It’s Dr. Buchanan,” he corrected with a smile. He quickly turned serious. “So, your case of diverticulitis has worsened compared to your last scan. We have to go in and remove the infected portion of your bowel.”

“Fun!” I sarcastically replied.

Shawn squeezed my hand so tightly that I gave him a look. He was staring at Dr. Susan, wide eyed. He was never this quiet.

“It’ll be a minimally invasive surgery,” the doctor continued. “It’s only a small part of your large intestine that has to be taken out. You’ll be in and out of the OR between one and four hours. But you will be admitted for at least a week. We are going to move you to a room, so I would suggest calling whoever else you need to call. Work, I’m assuming?”

“Just be real with me, Doctor Susan,” I said, leaning forward, “because I’m scared, and my sexy ass boyfriend is too. Am I gonna mcfreakin die?”

He chuckled. “You will not mcfreakin die. You’re in good hands here.”

I nodded and did the surfer dude sign with my free hand. “Awesome.” Then I looked at my eerily silent but gorgeous mans. “Babey, I need you to call Stella for me. I want my Switch.”

Shawn blinked a few times, and then he kissed my hand. “Okay, honey.”

~

After referring to every nurse as “Susan,” singing Evanescence in the elevator, and yelling “Whee!” as I was pushed to my room, I was finally processing the gravity of the situation. My bowel hates me so much that some of it needs to be removed. I was going to be in the hospital for a week, and I was going to recover for at least four more. I couldn’t eat for the next twenty four hours. I was going to be on a liquid diet. I was going to be open on a table.

Not to mention, Stella was practically in hysterics by the time she got to the hospital. She packed a bag of my bathroom necessities, my medications, my laptop, and my Switch. She also reminded me that we had to be moved out of our dorm by the end of next week. The semester was rapidly drawing to a close, and I was looking at homelessness.

“That’s not true,” Shawn told me before I could panic. “You’re staying at my place. We’ll move all your stuff there.”

I couldn’t argue because I had no other option.

Anyway, I had to email two of my professors and ask to take my finals on a different day. “Dear Professor, please change my final day because I’m having a bowel resection at the ripe age of 21.” Okay, I didn’t type it like that, but I wanted to.

After that, I had to call Stacy and let her know I would not be going into work today, although it was well over an hour after my shift would have started. I explained the situation to her and told her I would be out for at least two weeks. Then she reminded me that my contract with the dealership was almost up… because I was supposed to be going home to California very soon. I had to beg her to keep me hired. Why? Insurance. I hate being an adult.

Shawn eventually stepped out of the room to call his work, and then his parents. I hadn’t met his father or sister, but now I probably had to in this condition. Everything felt really, really messed up.

“What about your parents?” Stella asked me. “Have you called them?”

“I will,” I replied, scrolling through my contacts on my phone. “After I’m discharged.”

Stella placed her tiny hand on my arm, making me look at her. “Look, I don’t know what kinda beef you got going on with your folks, but they have to know about this.”

“They will know about this.”

“I mean right now. You should call them.”

I sighed. “I hear you. I know it’s important. But I met Shawn’s mother while I was recovering from a sick day. Instead of getting to know her and trying to make a good impression, she was taking my temperature and making me go to the doctor. And now I’m gonna meet the rest of his family while I’m high on morphine. I can’t control that because it’s his family, but I can control when he meets mine. And it’s not gonna be like this.”

Stella nodded as she listened. Then, she snapped, “Call your fucking parents.”

“I’m going to!” I shot back. “At a later time!”

We would have argued more, but Shawn entered the room. He didn’t say anything at first, which was odd. He sat at the foot of my bed, flipping his phone over in his hands.

“My mom is on her way,” he said at last.

“Cool,” I replied, keeping the reluctance out of my voice. Then I grabbed my Switch from the side table and occupied myself with Tetris 99.

“Your girlfriend is refusing to call her parents,” Stella told him. “Don’t you think they should know about this?”

I rolled my eyes, but I stayed quiet.

“Uh, yeah,” Shawn agreed. “Babe, why won’t you call them?”

“I’ll do it after I’m discharged,” I said, getting even more annoyed. “They’re my parents, I decide when to tell them.”

Stella scoffed and got up from her chair. She was very personally offended about what I do with my family, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe she has parents who don’t question everything she does, so it was easy to talk about things. Must be nice.

“Y’know,” Shawn said after a while, “if this was happening to me, I would want both my parents here with me.”

He wasn’t wrong. It’s not that I wasn’t scared. He already knew I was scared.

“Look, I know it’s bad, but at least I’m here,” I told him, keeping my eyes on the game I was playing. “I’m getting treated, and I’m getting surgery. I made an adult decision-”

“I did. I’m the one who brought you here. Two hours ago, you said you were afraid of dying. I’m here for you through all of this, but you need your parents here.”

Morphine clearly wasn’t my friend anymore. It was that fake friend you thought you could open up to, but they just betray you and expose all your secrets. I wanted to take back everything I said in the middle of my high. Every secret, every term of endearment. He knew too much.

Finally, I put down my Switch and picked up my phone. I dialed my father’s cell, my heart pounding and my throat burning. None of this was supposed to happen this way.

Voicemail.

“Hi, leave me a message, I’ll call you back… in two weeks, because my wife and I are currently cruising the Caribbean! Bye!”

I scoffed. “Of course. They don’t have their phones on them.”

“Good excuse for now,” Stella said with a snark in her tone.

For once, I didn’t feel like talking back. I stared at the beige blanket covering my lap. I looked at the paper bracelets around my wrist and the IV stuck in my arm. Why did this happen to me?

Stella was so fed up she actually left. She grabbed her purse and left, but not before saying she would be back tomorrow for my surgery. That left me, Shawn, and the mess of emotions I was struggling to keep in.

“Hey,” Shawn said gently, scooting closer to me. “What is it?”

Tears were building up inside of me. The morphine was threatening to expose even more things I didn’t want to say out loud.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing. Things could be worse, right?”

“That doesn’t change what’s happening to you. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay. Here, scoot over.”

I moved to the side so Shawn could sit next to me. He put his arm around me and pulled me into his side. Part of me wanted to push him away, because I was very close to letting myself wallow, and affection would only make it worse. But also… I wanted someone to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. That was all I wanted every time I spent the night alone in the bathroom. I pushed everyone away because I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. But Shawn remained persistent. He let me stay with him when all this started, and he was willing to let me stay with him when I recover.

“When I get sick,” I told him, my voice soft and shaky, “I get a lot of anxiety. I wonder what I ate, what I didn’t eat, what I should have ate…” I paused, attempting to hold it together.

Shawn squeezed my shoulders. “I got you, it’s okay.”

My voice started to break. “I changed… I changed so much of my life so it worked around this sickness. I changed my diet, I didn’t go to college right away, I stayed home because I didn’t want to be sick anywhere else. I was so afraid of eating the wrong thing that just eating gave me anxiety. My mind and my body became my worst enemy.” Heavy tears spilled out of my eyes and I suppressed a sob.

He rubbed my back and stayed quiet. I couldn’t look at him.

“I’ve taken every tea, every vitamin, every medicine. Nothing is strong enough. I do everything I can to stay healthy and… here I a-a-am…” I hunched over and lost control of my sobbing. My mind was spiraling quickly, but I couldn’t form another coherent sentence if I tried. I just wanted to jump out of my skin, I just wanted this to be over. I wanted to be okay again.

“I know, I know it’s hard,” Shawn soothed, scooping me into his arms. His head lied on mine, and he rubbed my back, slowly rocking me from side to side. “It’s okay, honey. You’ll be okay.”

“I’m too young to be like this,” I whispered through my ugly cries. “I-I-I keep thinking I’ll die in my sleep.”

“Hey, no. You’re not dying. But you’re right, you’re so young, and it’s not fair that this is happening. But you’ll be okay. You’ll survive this. You’re a strong lady, remember?”

My chest ached. I never thought Shawn heard my calming mantras. I sniffed and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I-I’m a strong lady…”

I’m a strong lady.

[artificialqueens]

The Taste of You (Brooke x Yvie) - ImposterZoe

AN: I literally wrote this in 2 days. Thanks to Pipedream for helping! From Brooke’s POV. IZ

I hate being an empath.

Have you ever tasted an emotion before? I have. I guess technically, I have a type of synesthesia where I can taste emotions. But I like empath better. Anyway, I can tell what you’re feeling. Only problem is I have to french kiss you to do it.

Seems like a good deal, huh?

“My emotions don’t make sense to me.”

“I can help! Just gotta lemme slip you the tongue!”

Cool, right? Hahahaha!

Wrong.

Try explaining to someone you can taste their emotions by frenching them, and tell me how it is when they send you to the looney bin.

That’s why I’ve never had a boyfriend. I can taste it. Every one night stand, I taste the sweet-salty tang of passion. (Makes the sex great, by the way.)

But in the morning, if I care enough to kiss goodbye, it's… normal. No added tang of leftover passion, the fruity taste of hope for a date, the indescribable taste of love. There’s no flavor and I don’t try to do anything to add some. I just…. Leave.

I didn’t even know love had its own distinct taste until Vanessa.

Drag Race was… what it was and I learned. I discovered the plethora of emotions I could taste. The hint lavender in her happiness. The coolness of relief every time she survived a lip sync. The overwhelming iron that showed her anger. The heat that showed her stress. The beauteous taste of love that I tasted for four months camera free. The strongest bitterness my tongue ever struck when I gave her that last sad kiss goodbye. And I started to think I would never taste the sweet tang of love again.

Then Yvie won. And in my drunken haze later that night, I kissed her. When I kissed her, I tasted it all.

The strong lavender for her happiness. The sorting popping taste (like pop rocks?) of her excitement. The tang of her cigarette, (I know it’s not an emotion but that’s besides the point). But in the back of her throat, just as it became evident she knew who she was kissing, the sweet caramel-like taste of a pleasant surprise.  Then the unmistakable taste of… love?

I froze in shock as I determined her feelings. Yvie loved me?! She pulled back and stared at me in confusion.

“Why do you taste so much like lavender?” There was a very evident blush on her face that was probably mirrored on mine.

Yvie loved me and she could taste me back. And she tasted lavender? That means I’m happy. I shouldn’t be happy. I just lost Drag Race after making top two. I was so close and I just kissed the person who’s going home with everything I wanted. And she tasted happiness?!

“I… had tea.” The lie rolls of my tongue too easy for my liking but just because Yvie can taste me back, doesn’t mean she needs to know the details of what it means.

“You like lavender tea?” It occurs to me that there are two drag queens incredibly close to each other, bright red, looking stupidly confused. A fan walking by would suck right now.

“I like kissing you,” my drunken brain replies and Yvie smiles that damn smile, touching her front teeth with her tongue. She has so much tongue, no wonder she can taste me.

I leaned in again, wanting to taste her beautiful mix of emotions again when A'keria comes to the end of the hallway.

“Where’d y'all go? Party ain’t over yet!”

Can you say mood killer?

“Be back in a second,” I call, stepping back from Yvie, “Miss Winner here needed a breather. Not used to people actually liking her.”

Yvie gives me one of her famous eye rolls. “Fuck off, Runner-up,” She mumbles. As A'keria walks away, I lean into Yvie’s ear.

“My name is actually Brock,” I whisper to her, “Learn it so you can scream it later.”  Yvie turns bright red and on impulse I kiss her again, tasting the tartness of embarrassment and nervousness, mixing with the richness of her love. I pull away and smirk as I walk back to the party. After a long minute, (enough time for me to get a fresh beer), Yvie comes back looking dazed with her lipstick slightly smeared.

A'keria looks between me and Yvie with a shocked expression. I just winked at her and enjoy the party.

After too long a time, I get to my hotel room and turn myself back into Brock. Just as I’m organizing my makeup, there’s a knock at my door. I walked over and open it, a knowing smile on my face the second the door opens.

“Hey there, Miss Winner,” I purred, relishing the blush on Yvie’s face.

“Hi, Brock,” Yvie chokes out. And the rest of the night is history.

[Many months later.]

I walk in the door of me and Jovan’s shared apartment, throwing my keys on the table.

“I’m home! You here, Babe?” I call, dropping my bags. I hear a faint call of, “Bedroom,” and hurry in. Jovan’s bent over a sketchbook and I have many conflicted emotions as I take in the fact that he’s wearing my beanie, has my hoodie around his waist, and is using Henry as table while he sketches with one hand, petting Apollo with the other. Seems like a renaissance painting, but whatever. I sprint over and jump in the bed, effectively leaving it cat free and Jovan rubbing his leg from where Henry used it as a launch pad.

“Hi,” I whisper in his ear, kissing him softly. I don’t use tongue. I haven’t seen Jovan in about a month, and long periods away from each other, makes my first taste of his emotions special, so I try to save it.

“Hey,” he grins. We hug each other, Jovan’s head buried in my shoulder. After a minute I pull back and glance at his sketchbook.

“What’s this for?” I ask, taking in the sketch. Jovan attempts to cover the page but I move his hands, admiring the tiny details he must’ve spent forever on.

“Do you like it?” he whispers excitedly. I nod, tracing the drawn hem line.

“It’s so pretty, Jovan,” I whisper back, my finger still running along the page. A humongous smile blooms on his lips.

“Thanks. As far as what’s it for,” he bends over the page with me, “It’s going to sound cheesy but I drew it thinking of you. It represents how you make me feel.” Jovan is slightly pink as he says this and I blush too, as I find that he was looking at me when he says this.

“I love you.” The words pop out of my mouth and in the back of mind I realize that maybe these words should’ve been said BEFORE we moved in together.

Meh, what’re ya gonna do?

Jovan stares at me, not in shock, but in adoration.

“I’ve loved you since drag race,” he admits.

I almost say that I knew that but how could I tell him? Even after all this time, Jovan doesn’t know I’m an empath. But I’m thinking too much right now.

I pull Jovan slightly in my lap and kiss him deeply. I sigh as I taste the deep coolness of his relief that I’m home, the lavender of his happiness, for a second I taste the slight citrus of doubt, but it’s gone as I rub his back. It’s all wrapped up in the silkiness of his love. Jovan’s love tastes different than Jose’s. Jovan’s is fresh. New. And for once in my life, I like something different. I love something different.

Jovan pulls back with a complentative look on his face.

“Kissing you is different. You taste,” he struggles with the right word, “… Different.”

“Different how?” I have to ask. I can’t taste myself and I bury everything so it’ll be nice to get my feelings read.

“Different like lavender,” (happiness),  "something cool, like mint or something,“ (relief), "and something I can’t describe. Something…silky.” Love. He tastes love.

“Did you just say I taste like Silky?” I ask in mock disbelief.

“Oh my god, I hate you,” he yells slapping my shoulder. I smirk as grab his hand and kiss his knuckles.

“I’m pretty sure you just said the exact opposite.”

“You’re an asshole,” says my blushing boyfriend.

My grin turns impish. “And you love me.” He sighs softly.

“Yes I do. And I have no idea why.”  I smile wider and kiss his knuckles again.

“Wanna get lunch?” I ask, standing up.

“Yeah sure.”  He kisses me again and I taste the now familiar silkiness of love on his tongue.

“If that’s what Silky taste like, I’m leaving you,” Jovan deadpans as he pulls back. I simply smack his side and walk out.

[…]

Usually when I kiss Jovan, it’s all good. Happiness, Passion, Love. But the longer we were on tour, the more different emotions came into play.

I tasted the bitter sadness on his tongue as we watched the reunion. The citrus that shows his doubt after Vanjie hugs me for a smidge too long. The intense heat of his stress before a show. The strong iron of his anger after a drawn out argument with Silky. That’s the only reason I’m glad he can taste me. With a simple flick of the tongue, the silky taste of my love mixed with my cool calmness relaxes him. The bitterness turns to lavender. The iron turns to the coolness of mint. The citrus turns into copper taste of possessiveness which eventually turns into that silky taste as he realizes I’m with him and only him.

But I still have to kiss him to relax him. And lemme tell ya, when Jovan puts his barriers up, trying to steal a kiss is quite the uphill battle. Trying to steal french kiss? Basically like trying to fight a war.

How am I supposed to explain that I can help understand him if he lets me kiss him?

The realization comes to light after a bad argument between us.

“You just try to solve everything with kisses!” Jovan had screeched at me. I don’t remember my reply but Jovan had locked himself in our bedroom and I heard him crying his eyes out. I paced along the wall for the better part of an hour when it hit me.

Jovan doesn’t know, so he doesn’t understand. I’m knocking on the bedroom door before the thought had even formed. I need to tell him about my ability.

The door cracked open. “What do you want?” Jovan asked miserably.

“I have to tell you something important and I can’t do it through the door.”

If anything Jovan’s face breaks even more and the door slams shut, the lock turning. I heard his sobs on the other side and realize that what I just said is scary as hell.

“That came out wrong. I’m not breaking up with you,” I call through the door.

“Yeah right,” comes the soft, shaky reply.

“Please let me in.” I whisper. After several seconds, I hear the lock turn and I don’t hesitate before rushing in the room.

Jovan’s on the bed now, staring at the ground and wiping his face dry.

“I have to tell you something,” I blurt.

“Yeah you said that.”

I kneel before him and grab his hand.

“I don’t think you get. This is important. I’ve never told anyone this before.” Jovan looks at me.

“No one?” he whispers.

“No one. Not Vanjie. Not Nina. Not even my mom. But I’m going to tell you and I’m just praying you believe me, because I’m going to sound fucking nuts.”

Jovan looks like he wants to make a joke but my face is deathly serious so he just pats the bed. I get up and sit down next to him. Jovan looks at me expectantly and immediately words fail me. I open and shut my mouth like a fish out of water while he stares at me.

“Brock I know words screw with you, but if you don’t say something soon, I’m leaving and I won’t turn back for a long time.” It’s not a threat. Jovan’s serious and I try to force the words out. I’m not losing him.

“I can taste your feelings!” I blurt. Jovan stares at me for a long time. Then he gets up and heads toward the door. I jump up and rush to cut him off at the door.

“I told you it sounds nuts! But I’m not lying. And you can taste me back. I know you’ve noticed that my mouth taste different when I french kiss you based on what I’m feeling.”  

Jovan just gives me a blank stare before he rubs a hand over his head.

“Brock, this is insane. No one can taste emotions. Especially not other people’s by kissing them! I mean how stupid do you think I am?”

I rub my own face in aggravation. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I’m telling you something about me that’s special and I want you to believe me. Ask me anything about it. You know I can’t lie and it’s to crazy for me to make up.”

A sigh leaves him but he sits on the couch and thinks on it. I sit in the chair opposite of him and watch him.

We sit in silence for a while and each passing second making my anxiety skyrocket.

“Do you love me?” Jovan whispers. My head snaps up at the sudden break in the silence.

“Yes. I do.” I whisper back. Short, sweet, and to the point.

“What does love… Taste like?” He whispers.

I swallow hard. “It’s hard to describe but to give it a try… it’s the sweetest, silkiest taste. Like the world’s best dessert.” Jovan weighs my words quietly.

“That’s what you taste like,” he mumbles, “no matter what else you taste like, that’s always there. In the back of your throat. That means you love me?”

I nod again. “I love you more than anything.”

Jovan sits back on the couch. “That’s why you kiss me when I’m upset? To know what I’m feeling?”

I sigh softly. “No. Like I said, you can taste me back. If I’m calm and I kiss you while you’re angry, you taste my calmness which helps you relax. But sometimes when you retreat into your head, I kiss you so I can figure out what to do.”

I pat my lap and Jovan makes his way over and settles onto it, his head on my shoulder.

“This is insane,” he whispers.

“I know,” I whisper back, “but I know you’re special because you can taste me back.” I grab his face and make him look me in the eyes. “So anytime you’re scared, just kiss me and remind yourself. I love you.”

I lean forward and kiss him softly, slowing sliding my tongue in his mouth. There’s a strong taste of citrus. He still doubts me. But as my tongue pushes forward, I taste the pop of his excitement and the lavender of his happiness.

And I know it’s because we both taste the same sweet, silky taste in each other’s mouths. We both taste the love we have for each other and I feel a tear fall from Jovan’s cheek to mine but judging from the lavender that’s everywhere in my mouth, they’re tears of joy.

“I love you.” Jovan whispers later that night.

“I love you, too.” I whisper back. He looks down and kisses me slowly.

“I know.”

We relax in each other’s embrace, love coating both our tongues.

I love being an empath.

“Hey, Brock?”

“Yeah?”

“What does horniness taste like?”

“Oh my god. Fuck all the way off!” I laugh.

I do love being an empath.

I just really hate my boyfriend.

[ciestessde]

Phantasma Magica Ch. 6

STORY SUMMARY

Clockwork and the Observants send Danny to Hogwarts on a special mission. But, cryptic as ever, that Old Stopwatch never actually told him what would happen on it!!! “All you need to do right now, Daniel, is stay focused on your mission. And remember, the-” “‘The Lions with the time-turner, lightning-bolt scar, and hair like fire are friends; watch out for the rat; and the black dog is not a threat.’ Yeah, you’ve only repeated that a few dozen times today.”

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When Danny returned later the next day, things were mostly how he had expected to find them: most of the students had left for the holidays, the Trio were talking in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, and Harry looked absolutely exhausted. Against what he had expected, however, the other two weren’t trying to comfort Harry. Ron was getting angry. Hermione was on the verge of tears. They were trying to convince Harry not to go after Black. That it was too dangerous. That the dementors and other authorities would catch him. That the biggest piece of Pettigrew they could find (after Black blew him up) was his finger.

Danny didn’t interfere; it really wasn’t his place to. But if Harry wanted to go after Black, he would gladly help him. Ron gave up, suggesting they should go visit Hagrid. Harry, wanting to ask Hagrid why he had never told him about Black, readily agreed, and Danny (both because he dared not let Harry out of sight in this state, and because he wanted to hear more about Black himself) followed them to the hut -- which was far too close to the dementors’ patrols for the phantasm’s comfort.

But when they arrived, it was far from a happy holiday greeting that they received -- the half-giant was sobbing and, after letting them inside his small hut, shoved a letter toward Harry to read. Danny, having learned his lesson about getting distracted and tuning people out, listened… But was still slightly distracted, not by the large dog, but by the EVEN LARGER… horse… eagle… hybrid creature- it looked like if someone had decided to make a pegasus, but added the head of the bird too. BUT! Danny did manage to listen past his shock (for the most part). The letter was some court order, saying that Hagrid’s “hippogriff” (which, he figured out, was the not-a-pegasus) named “Buckbeak” did something bad, and, after a hearing (which sounded like it would be completely bogus), the Ministry’s “Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures” were likely going to execute the poor thing.

Ron, Hermione, and even Harry -- his anger now thoroughly diffused -- did their best to comfort Hagrid, promising they’d help him make a good case for Buckbeak’s innocence. Calmer, petting his dog’s head and with a cup of hot tea in front of him, Hagrid admitted, “I’ve not bin meself lately. Worried abou’ Buckbeak, an’ no one likin’ me classes--” “We do like them!” Hermione said, lying rather convincingly. “Yeah, they’re great!” Danny noticed Ron’s fingers crossed under the table. “Er-- how are the flobberworms?” “Dead,” Hagrid said gloomily, “Too much lettuce.” “Oh no!” Ron’s lip twitched, making his lie rather unconvincing.

“An’ them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an’ all.” Hagrid shuddered. “Gotta walk past ‘em ev’ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. ‘S like bein’ back in Azkaban--” He cut off, and the room went silent. ‘Azkaban…?’ “Is it awful in there, Hagrid?” Hermione asked timidly. “Yeh’ve no idea. Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin’ mad…” He described, to Danny’s disgust, a prison guarded by dementors sucking the happiness and, eventually, the very life-essence out of every prisoner, night and day.

“But you were innocent!” Hermione cried. Hagrid snorted. “Think that matters to them? They don’ care. Long as they’ve got a couple o’ hundred humans stuck there with ‘em, so they can leech all the happiness out of ‘em, they don’ give a damn who’s guilty an’ who’s not.” He was quiet, then said, “Thought o’ jus’ letting Buckbeak go… tryin’ ter make him fly away… but how d’yeh explain ter a hippogriff it’s gotta go inter hidin’? An’--an’ I’m scared o’ breakin’ the law…” He looked up, tears leaking out his eyes, “I don’ ever want ter go back ter Azkaban.”

If there was anything that his best friend Sam had rubbed off on him while he was still human, it was her dual loves of nature and freedom. And Danny already had not-so-friendly feelings for the dementors around this castle. So to hear about a prison guarded by them, and then a section of government devoted to “disposing” of creatures they disapproved of… Danny was developing some not-so-friendly feelings for the wizards’ “Ministry” as well…

So Danny was quite eager to help with the Trio’s research in building a defense for Buckbeak. He helped them pour over volume after volume, and article after article, for anything even remotely relevant to Buckbeak’s case (He had clawed the arm of a student -- ‘Malfoy. Why is it always Malfoy???’ -- who’d provoked him, directly against Hagrid’s instructions to the class). The research, to Hermione and Ron’s relief, also distracted Harry from searching for and worrying over Sirius Black.

Eventually, Danny needed a break. He’d been stuck inside this castle (which, though big, consisted of the same rooms as ever) for too long, his eyes were swimming with fancy law terms and news articles, and his visit to the side-town “Hogsmeade” was cut short before. So, after satisfying himself that his friends would be safe for a few hours without him, Danny followed the tunnel under the Whomping Willow -- eager to investigate why it had been blocked off.

The tree’s flailing branches passed right through him, and he entered a tunnel that was dark even for Danny’s night-vision. It let out into what seemed to be an abandoned house -- only this one had scratches and claw-marks all over the inside. ‘I wonder what this place is…?’ Turning invisible and intangible, Danny flew straight up and through the ceiling and the roof, then turned around. ‘Oh! This must be the “Shrieking Shack!”’

He had heard about some of the highlights of Hogsmeade from Ron and Hermione. Judging by the run-down appearance of the house below him, and the fence around the yard, this was the house that was supposed to be haunted. ‘I don’t feel any presences, though… Except maybe a few animals. But I guess that’s not surprising! Figures that it’s not actually haunted, heh!’

Danny surveyed the rest of Hogsmeade from above. He couldn’t buy anything, but it could be fun to look around the shops anyway. Especially that joke shop! ‘I’ll leave that for last!’ He floated down to street-level, deciding to start with the post-office. It was like a busy zoo enclosure, with owls of all sizes flying around and waiting to have letters attached to them. Next was the candy store -- which seemed almost like a joke shop unto itself! There were some free samples, too, which he took a few of for later. In one barrel was some blood-flavored lollipops, though… which reminded him: ‘There’s something to mention to Professor Lupin later… Phantasms’ worst enemies aren’t dementors, they’re vampires. Guess they’re part of this… “magical community.” Better keep my eyes out.’

The joke shop was just as fun as he thought it’d be and better. There were several items he knew Tucker (his other best friend…) would’ve gotten a kick out of -- and plenty he knew Sam could’ve found all sorts of uses for! ‘Oh, man… A quill that misspells EVERYTHING you write…! I mean, I would’ve had to convince him to use a quill first -- but Mr. Lancer would have HATED this thing…!’ So, with a mental list of things he wanted for Christmas (in case anyone asked), Danny turned back toward the Shrieking Shack for one last look at it before returning to the castle.

‘How did this place get SO torn up…’ There were claw marks going from ceiling to floor. The floor itself was a network of scratches in every direction. There wasn’t a single piece of untouched furniture… ‘Well, something clearly used to live here--’ His tour came to a halt when he entered a bedroom. Sitting on the bed, staring him straight in the eyes… A face from a wanted poster flashed through Danny’s mind…

‘Sirius Black…’

Silently, and before the man could react, Danny dove, grabbed him by the throat, and pinned him to the wall. His ethereal flames danced in his right hand; the claws of his left pricked the skin of Black’s throat, dripping a tiny bit of blood on his prison uniform -- before the wounds froze over, frost covering his shoulder and the wall behind. The windows faced away from the sun -- Danny was the only light in the room. Sirius was frozen -- though not literally. His mind was back in Azkaban. Except… this wasn’t a dementor in front of him- WHAT WAS THIS?!

Danny couldn’t decide whether to kill him now -- ‘I’m NOT an animal! I am NOT a MURDERER!!’ -- or bring him to the castle -- ‘They’ll just kill him anyway!’ Danny growled, frustrated and hungry -- vibrating and shaking Sirius’ heart in his chest. Which was all Sirius needed to snap out of it and remember how he escaped the dementors--

Danny couldn’t do a thing as he watched the criminal morph -- into a BLACK DOG -- ‘The black dog is not a threat’ -- escape his grip -- ‘Black dog is not a threat’ -- and run for the tunnel under the Whomping Willow...

‘Black is not a threat…’ …

Danny floated there, in that bedroom, with his arm outstretched, for a good half-hour out of shock.

‘What… do I do now… ‘Clockwork…?’

~~~~~

You can now follow the Podfic Version of this story on AO3. I’ll also try to remember to post links to individual chapters here on Tumblr, as well, though!

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(Updates every Wednesday until completion.)

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