#i am so fucking mad at what we lost........................

[deyisacherry]

ngl I may not like Earth that much anymore but I genuinely felt sad when she talked to monty about everything cause

yeah, okay, moon is not good with emotions (and this happened before moon getting to comfort sun a little), lunar- i don't know, astral power and emotions stuff

so yeah, earth and solar were the ones actually WORRIED about Sun

to the point that Sun had to ask Earth "why is Moon not here?"

like- yeah, this is the problem

Nexus was more emotional supportive to Sun than Moon was, so it's weird to not have that anymore, and yes, Moon is not good with emotions but just a hug, JUST THAT would've been enough for sunny the very first days of his grief, but sure Moon, go to your lab, don't take the time to understand why your brother is sad as fuck, if it weren't for Solar (and ironically Lunar) he might've not thought about that, let's be honest on that

and dude, lunar, yeah, your powers are related to your emotions but even gemini felt off cause he was acting apathetic to,,, almost everything

so Sun, HIS BROTHER, is grieving, depressed, guilty and-

he's

watching a nutella ad

yeah no wonder why earth feels mad about them

she has every right

and yes YES is still hypocritical the fact to see oh NOW you care Earth, now that you lost him you do admit that you were hoping he would change his mind, but STILL.

NO ONE, NO ONE ELSE EXCEPT SUN AND EARTH ARE GRIEVING (CAUSE ATP I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT SOLAR FEELS ABOUT NEXUS DYING, I WISH THEY SHOWED US MORE OF SOLAR'S THOUGHTS) and Earth had to be the one at home taking care of Sun, cooking for him, comforting him and trying not to break down in front of him cause they are both SO SAD

girl had to also take care of Dazzle while hurting inside, and going to the daycare and-

dude, Moon and Lunar, SUN'S CLOSEST AND FIRST BROTHERS weren't doing ANYTHING the first days to at least comfort him

we were not asking for understanding on the death of someone they don't gaf about, we were asking for them just to BE THERE for SUN, BUT OF COURSE

WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED, NEXUS WAS RIGHT. AND EARTH, STILL SAD AND MOURNING HAD TO BE THE ONE TAKING CARE OF HER OTHER SAD SIBLING, CAUSE SOLAR IS ACTUALLY NOT REALLY GOOD AT THAT- HE BARELY KNOWS HOW TO BEAR WITH HIS OWN STUFF, MOON IS "BAD WITH EMOTIONS" AND DECIDED TO GO TO HIS LAB, AND LUNAR LITERALLY COULDN'T. CARE. LESS.

istg this family this goddamn family...

[miseta]

Chapter 12 ➺ Broken nights

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique! Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze Chapter 8 ➺ Confusion and directions Chapter 9 ➺ A place for words Chapter 10 ➺ Not a cloud in sight Chapter 11 ➺ Dangerous steps TW: angst 5K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Hayley entered the hospital room with a rather anxious face. Bright vivid lights tinted the place with a gloomy atmosphere ironicaly contrasting with the poster of child playing at the beach hung to the wall. 

I’d looked at the frame for hours, the random boring picture now printed on my retina. My phone had died, and I had no charger so I had nothing to do excepted to wait for something, someone to come visit me or bringing me the precious device that could connect me to the world. 

Nurses had reassured me that I was okey and that she had contact my parents and the club to reassured them as well. However, I felt helpless, still shaken by my accident, and stressed out by how things were going for the team and for Misa. Her anxious face was printed in my mind too, having my mouth dry as I imagined her own distress when she had had no news of me for hours. 

Now, Hayley’s visit was like sunshine after a storm, lighting my gloomy bedroom with her friendly presence. However, her coming alone didn’t reassured me at all, showing, on the contrary, the absence of the person I wanted to see most. 

“Here you are Nicky!” My friend greated me, smiling mildly. 

“Hey Hayley, yeah, here I am…”, I replied, lifting my banded arm with a wince as the Aussie came at my bedside.

“Sweetie, in what a state you are…”, she said patting my shoulder with a pout. “What did the doctors said ?”

“Seven stitches on the arm and two on my waist, but fortunately nothing’s broken and the scanner’s good too. I’ll probably count the bruises tomorrow though” 

Hayley broke a smile, reassured. “Good to hear it from your mouth even if all the team already know you’re all right. As you imagine, we called the clinic to check on you as soon as the match ended.” 

I opened my mouth but Hayley went on before I could speak. “We lost. 1 to 3”. 

Silence filled the room as we gazed at each other, our look heavy with what the score implied. 

“Where’s…”

“Misa.” The winger finished. “Hum, everything has been hard for her, she… she’s processing… things and it’s too risky for her to come right now”, Hayley answered. 

My mouth was becoming really dry and I grasped my wrist in a reassuring gesture, feeling the bracelet Misa had gave me under my thumb. 

“Hayly, tell me what happened since I fell onto that fucking glass, all of it please.”

The winger sighed but her voice was calm, “When you fell, Misa rushed at your side immediately and when they took you away, well, Misa did her best to look normal. We were all shocked and scared for you of course but Misa… she cares about you like a girlfriend does, you know that, and she had a really hard time to refocus on the match…”

I buried my face in my hand, wincing again when moving my left arm, “So she took three goals… I’m really spoiling everything…” 

Hayley tried her best at conforting me, “Nobody’s mad about you Nicky, especially not Misa! She’s mad at herself above all.” 

“Then why isn’t she here?” I asked, anger building as I needed her here with me so badly.

“To protect you. Lea’s figured it out. Misa told me. She probably got it as soon as she saw Misa completely panicking at the sight of you lying on the floor covered in blood, and during the match, it’s true Misa did some pretty bad mistakes. Anybody could tell it wasn’t her night. We agreed I’d visit you not to draw more attention on her at the moment because I had to skip debrief to be able to come during visit hours. But she’ll call soon. Oh speaking of that…” Hayley pulled a charger out of her bag. “Here! You know when you’ll be out?” 

“Tomorrow morning for sure”, I sighed, Hayley helping me to plug my phone to the charger.

“Great, Misa asked me to told you she’s going to pick you up. I’ve to go home Nicky but feel free to call whenever you want!” 

“Thank you so much, you’re a real friend.” 

“Take care, sweetie” the Aussie brushed my hair affectionately before going out of the room. 

I turned on my phone as soon as she was gone. As I expected, I had dozens of messages from my parents and friends wishing me a prompt recovery. I smiled at seeing the red circle with the number eleven on it next to Misa’s name and started reading.

17h47 Mi cari… I hope you’re well…  we’re heading to the pitch I’m leaving my phone. 17h48 I’m thinking of you 💛 18h51 hope everything’s alright, I guess you can’t answer me right now  20h05 I was worrying sick but we called the clinic and they told us you’re okay and that you’re unreachable!   20h16 Lea clocked me, I can’t come to see you it’s too risky  We talked and she’s cool she won’t say anything  20h27 Hayley’s gonna come with a charger she on her way  20h41 call me when you can  Love you

I didn’t wait one more minute to press the little phone sign on the screen, my chest tightening at the dialing sound lasted.

“Cari! How are you?” 

It felt so good to just hear her voice.

***

“Oww!”, I moaned at the feeling of the compress being pulled of my wound.

“Perdon! It’s well stuck!”, the goodie excused herself while she slowly pulled the piece of medical tape appart from my skin. She delicately finished to remove my old dressing and put sanitizer on a coton pad. “Does it hurt?” She asked as she applied the cotton on the still fresh stitches. 

“No, it’s just a little sensitive now.” 

I watched her concentrating on the task. Her brows twitched or lifted now and then, her plump lips pinching like they usually did when she was focusing on something. 

Misa continued to clean my wound a couple of minute with much care, then she made a new dressing with compress and tape. 

“We’re done here!” She said lifting her brown eyes toward mine. “You lie down on the sofa so I can change the one on your back”.

I nodded and stroke her forehead softly before doing as told. “Thanks for taking care of me, Love.”

“De nada”, she murmured and started humming a song while cleaning the other stitches.

“Porque desde que estás aquí Aquí cerca de mí Que tú eres mi baby Y ese recuerdo de tenerte sin ropa

Que no me deja dormir Sigo pensando en ti Que tú eres mi baby Y ese recuerdo de tenerte sin ropa”

I recognized the song of our holidays in Formentera, her melodious voice was like water, slowly running down, so much softer than the other Spanish people and having me wondering where that came from.

“Misa, can I ask you something?”

“Si, claro” 

“Why am I feeling you don’t talk like Madrid Spanish people do? Do you have an accent?” 

She chuckled at my question “Es el acento canario! We skip a lot of letters like the letter S. For exemple, I don’t say España but E’paña. Mas goales is ma’ goale’”.

“Ohhhh, I see now! That’s why I thought nothing was plural for you ahahah, outch!“ I winced again, the scar on my back was still sore. “Tell me something else about the canaries.” I inquired, curious about her birthplace and wishing to focus on something else than the pain.

“You already know my island is Gran Canaria, the round one. We have a micro climate in Canaria’, it’s 25 degrees and sunny almost all year. La’ Palma’ is one of the biggest city of E’paña.” 

Now that she’d explained it, I noticed every missing S in her way of speaking.

“Oh ok, that seems great! Is there a metro or tramway in Las Palmas?” 

“No but our wawa network works well!” Misa answered proudly. 

I didn’t understand what she was taking about so I repeated interrogatively, “Wawa?” 

“Jaja, yes we call our buses Wawa’ and again I’m not really pronouncing the letter G, you spell it G-U-A-G-U-A.”

“Guagua”, I echoed.

Misa chuckled once more as she finished to put compress and tape on my second wound. She sprayed a bit of sanitizer on a bad bruise close by that sent a shiver through my body, “I love mi i’la - my island - I love Madrid too but it’s not the same and all my family is there…” she paused and pulled my T shirt back down, “It’s all done, we’re good for two days”. 

I sat up on the couch, looking again into her eyes, and guilt surged as I thought of how caring she was when I was the reason of the nasty game she had endured. Misa seemed to guess my unease and frowned slightly.

My finger tips smoothed her furrowed brows, the goalkeeper closing her eyes and enjoying my little touches on her face. 

“Hummm”, she sighed as I scratched her scalp, and she rested her head against my chest. Her arms surrounded my waist and she hugged me tight, my fingers rubbing through her hair. “Are you going to be alright on your own when I’ll be gone with the team?” 

“Yes, don’t worry, I’m off work until your return and a nurse will be coming to check on me. I’ll be alright. Really Misa, do not worry about me okey?” I insisted, dreading to be the source of an other failure. 

“Vale, tiene’ razón… Let’s go in bed, my flight’s early tomorrow.”

***

TV was set up, diner ready, my medicine taken and my dressing changed. From the sofa where I sat on in the cosiness of my home, I was bracing myself for the kick off of the Champion’s League second game, Real Madrid versus Juventus. 

The whistle blowed and the match began, the sorting deciding Madrid were having the ball. 

Straight from the start, Caroline Weir rushed past the Italian defenders, aiming for Signey Brunn, Signey striking hard and fast and the ball rebound on the fists of the goalkeeper. Yet, Caroline had moved forward and was in best position to recover that ball, quick enough to send it right into the cage before Payraud-Magnin had the time to dive for it again. The players burst of joy, and so do I, jumping from the sofa and howling in pain as the wound on my waist woke up from standing up too fast. 

The ball was given back to Juventus but they quickly lost it again. The following minutes were a succession of lost balls and touches, both goalkeepers having very little to do appart from staying focused. 

On the 35th minute, Sofia Cantore managed to get between Rocio and Olga and ended up doing a nice center, recovered by Cristiana Girelli who shot right at the left goal corner. Misa jumped high toward the ball but could do nothing but stare helplessly as it landed at the back of net. Cheers from the crowd. Silence from the other side. The shot had been neat and strong, really hard to stop but Misa pulled a face. Taking a goal was always hard to swallow. 

Moreover when the Italian attaquant Sofia Cantore escaped on her own right after the goal kick and went back straight to the cage. Misa readied herself for the shot but decided at the last minute to come out of the penalty area, rushing at the ball coming to her at full speed. Although, Sofia shot before Misa could reach her, and Real Madrid took its second goal. 

My stomach began to knot, the Misa coming off her goal line had been a big mistake, hardly punished for having taking the risk of leaving her cage exposed. The camera lasted a moment on the goalie’s tense face, her jaw clenched, frustrated and angry with herself when that goal could have been saved if she had thought better. Thus, Juventus had taken the lead because of it. 

Fortunately, the second half time started much better, Caroline and Linda managing to score respectively at the 61th and 79th minute, having me fidgeting of joy but remaining seated quietly on the sofa in fear of pain. 

However, everything changed past the 85th minute. Juventus managed to get a corner, shooting it nicely to the waiting head of Estelle Cascarino, her header sending it right into Misa’s gloves. The goalkeeper’s grip wasn’t firm enough and the ball slipped away from her outstretched hand, falling onto the grass and rolling lazily to Estelle’s feet. The defender took her second chance, kicking swiftly into the opened part of the cage. Misa was defeated. Not grasping the ball was a beginner mistake. 

I shrank into the couch, afraid, only to see Juventus taking the ball back toward Misa’s cage, Misa bracing herself for the attack again, clearly panicked to take yet another goal. Maelle Lakrar succeeded at tackling the Italian striker nicely and the ball rolled to the feet of Olga, but she was pressed hard by Cantore preventing her to cleared away the ball. After a few unsuccessful dribbles, Olga finally decided to pass the ball back to Misa. Girelli rushed to the goalkeeper as soon as she had the ball, having Misa to do a quick clearance to put away the danger. However, Misa cleared straight in front of the goal and her pass was intercepted by the midfielder Ariana Caruso, shooting high in the air. Misa followed the ball running backward, ready to jump to catch it but it decended at hand level right behind the goalie. Misa jumped, the tips of her gloves touching the ball only to see it hitting the roof of the net. 

I could not watch anymore. Misa stayed lying on the grass, the Italian player and crowd screeches field the stadium. The filming framing doesn’t allowed me to see more of Misa’s despair but I didn’t need it to know this was bad. Very bad. 

I cleared the remaining of my meal and did the dished, my mind clouded. I heard the whistle signal the game ending. Three to four. Misa had taken four goals facing a clearly dominated team. Three of them could have been avoided to the least. 

This was bad. Misa’s wasn’t well. I had never saw her played like that. 

My heart sank as I waited for her to call me, not daring to send her a message myself when she knew I had seen that awfull match.

But two hours later, I had no call, no messages. 

I wrote her a short text, “I hope you’re well, call me when you can”. 

Time got by and she didn’t answered, my angst growing crazy until I could stand no more, and called her. The dialing sound lasted, having me wondering anxiously if she was going to pick up. 

“Hola…”, the goalie finally answered but her voice was hoarse. Had she been crying? 

“Hey Mis’… how are you?” I sensed my saliva drying in my mouth.

“Buah, not very well I guess…” 

Silence settled between us as I waited for her to go on, however, she said nothing else, thus I inquired with caution, “Fuck, sweetie… is there anything I can do?”

I heard her sniff and sight heavily and angst gripped me a little more, “eh… no, I… we…”

But the woman stopped to let a rasping breath and my stomach knotted itself entirely. Dread crashed onto my body as I stayed floating in the awful quietness. I muttered a voiceless prayer but deep inside I knew what was coming next.

“I think we should stop”.

If only I could have been wrong. 

Silence settled again and I could only hear the loud and fast beats of my heart. I swallowed almost nothing, my mouth dryer than after a run. 

“Lo siento mucho”, the strangle voice of Misa said through the phone. “ I can’t…”

“…go on like this, I know,” I finished. Tears streamed from my eyes but my body was numb with shock, I felt I had stopped breathing. 

“You… should get the chance to fulfill your work aspirations…”, she added. 

I really couldn’t breath anymore, through air indeed went in and out of my lungs.

“…and I need to focus back on mine”, she concluded. Her sniffs achieved to break my heart into pieces. 

She’s right.

But I love her. 

But she’s right. I’m not doing her any good, I’m even ruining her performances… I shouldn’t fight for this. 

“I…get it”, because I love you, I added in my mind. “I guess I’m going to hang up now… too hard.” I managed to articulate, my body fighting against the sobs trying to come out now. 

“I’m so sorry… take care Nicky”

My chest shook uncontrollably for containing the sobs. I couldn’t say anything, still I couldn’t hang up after all. It would mean it would be over. Our relationship would end with the call. 

But then it hit me. 

It was over already, we had just break up. 

I spoiled a minute trying to regain my ability to speak, my blurred sight composing the soft features of her face as tears and sobs escaped madly. 

“Take care, you’re the best, Love…” I finally stuttered in a broken voice and I found the strength to press the red circle just after. 

I dropped my phone on the sofa, fighting to retake my breath as sobs took all over my body with an inimaginable strength. Every inches of my being ached, my mind drowning in unbearable pain. It was over. We were no more. Of course she’d break up. What was I thinking dating a woman like her. I should be grateful for having her for some months. 

But I couldn’t. Pain and numbness was all I could feel. 

I couldn’t stand it.

I couldn’t.

Time had stopped. Life frozen. 

I had dragged myself to bed where I was now lying for hours, unable to sleep, unable to stop crying, unable to do anything else but stare blankly at the ceiling. Destroyed once again, I was lost in the worst part of a break up, the realization of it, of her absence, suffocating, when her presence lingered everywhere in my small home. Her toothbrush was waiting in the bathroom, some of her clothes and underwear in my closet, special ingredients for her diet remained in the kitchen. 

I tossed and turned, fighting to not drown in pain, my sadistic mind picturing her smile with her dimple on her left cheek. She was slouched in the sofa, wasting her time on her phone before joining me in bed. She was about to come now, tired and needy before sleeping, as usual. She was about to wake me up from this nightmare. It had to. 

I spent the night fighting against sleep as I knew too well I would be dreaming of her holding me close. But when dawn approached I sunk in a troubled dream where I looked for her without succeeding at finding her. When I finally reached her, Misa’s broad smile faded away and I woke up with a jolt, my arm probing the bed for her conforting body and falling onto the cold flatness of the mattress beside me. 

Everything was upside down. I had woken up in a nightmare, jet-lagged and dehydrated, reality crushing me once more as I realized the break up was real.  

***

Two days later I was back to work, should I say back to hell. The Cuidad was no longer the familiar and reassuring place I knew but the ghostly reminder of my gone happiness. Misa’s presence had leaked everywhere here too, from the field, where fortunately I rarely went, to my office, to the locker room and the photo studio. The Cuidad was where everything had begun, the witness of our friendship and attraction slowly turning into love and care. When she dumped me, Misa took everything I’d built here and even if it was true I was happy before we started dating, I couldn’t imagine that happiness coming back now. 

Therefore, I tried to focus on work and it worked a few hours, until I had to modify a close shot of the goalie, my eyes immediately filling with tears at the sight of the features I loved so much. I kept crying as I cropped her silhouette to put it a new background. Once again, Misa was everywhere, to the very content of my work, having me trapped in an infinite sadness as more pictures of her popped on the screen. I quitted my office to get some air, but mostly to smoke the cigarettes I had bought on the way. But smoking didn’t appeased my broken heart the slightest and I ended up crying like a child in the bathroom, grasping the thin bracelet attached to my wrist I hadn’t had the strength to take off. 

On the next day, I felt lost, wandering aimlessly in the corridor, both dreading and hoping to fell on her waiting for the elevator or on my way to the parking lot. I had not seen the goalie since our break up, our goodbyes on the phone the last words between us. I navigated between numbness and sadness, exhausted by trying to get a grip, to block all thoughts and emotions toward her. On the evening, I spent hours on the phone with Angela, smoking like a fireman, telling her everything, crying more, hurting more. My best mate never mentioned the fact that she foresaw it happening and I was grateful for that. Angela wasn’t like that. I could always count on her. 

But even Angela couldn’t confort me like Misa did, only her had the ability to make me smile in a heartbeat with a bad joke or a silly pout no matter how bad my day was. Only her could really take the stress away in those hard moments. Misa gone, I also lost my confident and protector.

Fortunately, I started preparing the photo exhibition and was surprised to feel almost good about it. I buried myself into it entirely, putting all my denied feelings at showing my dedication for my job at the Real. While everything else was gone, being a photographer had stayed a consistence source of joy in my life, granting me self confidence and allowing me to express myself artistically. Somehow like a therapy, I worked for days, selecting shots, discussing exhibition and displays directions, retouching images, until I was satisfied of every pictures and the way they were going to be shown. 

So in spite of all, I started to get better days after days. Not to say enjoyable, but life seemed livable again. I got used to the fade taste not leaving my mouth, smoking not helping, the cold gray weather of the end of November matching my mood. Nothing really appealed me anymore apart photography. Things happened or did not and I didn’t care, but at least to upcoming exhibition helped me not to feel completely distraught. 

And I needed it badly as I endured seeing Misa again during matches and for specific communication needs. We didn't exchanged a word, barely looking at each other but those moments of relative proximity kept stirring the emotions I was trying so hard to bury.

Thus, I didn't expected for her to come to find me after a particularly good game against la Real Sociedad. 

Smoking outside the stadium, my heart leaped when I saw her walking toward me. I took a glimpse behind my shoulder to check if there could be someone else she wanted to meet. But there wasn’t, and there was no doubt allowed anymore as she stopped right in front of me, her hands in her pockets and her glance dark when she saw me light up another cigarette.

“Hey“, she said, looking away. 

“Hey“, I answered coldly. If she wanted to talk to me she better do it, I was not going to make it easier for her.

“I have something to tell you. The all team guessed the "misacertijo", they know it’s you I was seeing. I didn’t confirm it but it’s pretty obvious without having to say anything.“ 

Misa lift her gaze back to me. How weird it was to be that close to her again. Something waggled in my numb body as I searched about what to answer. Of course everybody had guessed who Misa was dating. We were always friendly and close but suddenly we both stared to avoid each other. Neither of us were having the strength to pretend being in good term.

“Hum, ok. Thanks for telling me.“ I finally said and Misa furrowed her brows. 

“You’re not worried about it?“

“Nobody has proof and they’re not going to get one since it’s over…“, I explained more bitterly than I wanted to. 

Misa seemed to study me a moment and her intense gaze made my throat tighten. She had to stop looking at me like that. 

“I heard your photo exhibition is opening soon?“ 

My breathing fastened slightly. What was she playing at? 

“Yes it is. The opening will be on the 20th of December.“ 

“Well done, I’m happy for you“, she said peering down at her feet. 

She looked so usure, could I say sad? Something hot and growling stirred in me again and I took another puff of my cigarette to dismiss the feel. “Thanks, and well done for tonight as well. That was quite a match. You seem to be doing great.“ 

“I’m working hard, thanks...“ Misa said, her lips sketching the start of a smile and her brown eyes found mine again a moment. A moment during she seemed to be thinking of thousands of things, opening her mouth and closing it a few times as I kept on smoking slowly to hide my confusion.

“What about that?“ She finally asked pointing my cigarette with disgust. 

At first, I didn’t knew exactly why that made me so angry, but then I got why I suddenlty was so furious. Her jugement on what I was doing with my life, a life she had chosen not to be part of, was the last thing I needed. Moreover, she was the very reason of me smoking again. 

So, I pursed my lips, answering with a hard stare. “This is none of your business!“

I crushed my roach in the ashtray, taking the path to the parking lot without another look back at her. 

And of course, I cried again that evening and during many other after it. 

***

Champagne and cocktails flowed freely, lounge music filling the vast reception hall. Bottles were opened and poured in stemmed glasses at an enticing rhythm, the loud pops creating a funny addition to quiet notes in the background. But despite the wonderful decor, I was nervous. 

Of course, I was nervous. I wasn’t used to being under the spotlights, moreover in a foreign country, at a party of the most famous football club of the world. I glanced at the corridor showing of few of my photographies and my gaze rested a moment on a particular shot. It was a photo of Misa and Hayley sat in our pitch corner, smiling broadly while looking in the distance at something I had forgotten. No matter what happened, those moments where the three of us had connected, had stayed dear to my heart. Now, it wasn't without pride that I watch it hung against the white wall of one of the most fancy galleries of Madrid. 

Ana was eagerly twitching beside me. It had been her idea to paire the exhibition’s opening with the traditional Christmas party. Every year the club organized a special event for employee, members and a well selected guest list. For this edition, the paring had led them to chose a galerie of the center of the capital, with a vast reception room adjoining to it, were the party would take place latter. It was meant to be quite a show. On her side, Ana had been very attentive to be seen as the thinking head of all of this. But for now, she, Mariam, Eneko and I were standing in a neat line facing the entrance to welcome the guests. 

The firsts ones to arrive were a groupe of employees from the commercial department, quickly followed by some of the players.  Everybody had put on their best outfit in a demonstration of good and not so good taste. Olga was in a rather odd dress-suite but Maelle wore a smart sparkling skirt and a fancy white shirt.

As for me, I had spent hours deciding what to wear for that precise occasion. I didn’t want to be too formal but not too relaxed either. Thus, I had sent dozen of very doubtful selfies in front of the mirror to Angela and Hayley, sicking their advices and validation. 

“Nicky, we talked about this a hundred time, you’re not wearing a shirt!“, Angela had said on the speaker. 

“I have nothing else! All the tops I have are shirts or T shirts!“

“Then go for a dress, the dark blue one, you look stunning in it!“

“But I never were dresses, it feels weird…“ I had moaned, searching the pile of clothes. 

“You said you didn’t want to wear pants either, that it was too common! You said you wanted to stand out but in a good way… That was your precise words and we both know what you want deep down…“ 

I had rolled my eyes. “Well, I don’t! You do?“ 

“You want to be sexy as hell so you can impress everyone this evening“, she had answered.

My brain had instantly pictured the face of my ex-girfreind gagging at the sight of very attractive version of me. My lips had stretched into a smile and I had surrendered, “Ok, I’m trying the blue one again, but I’m not putting stilettos. What about boots?“ 

“Humm, with hills if you want your outfit to remain chic….“

I had dig out a paire of ankle high varnished black boots with medium hills I had had probably bought for some kind of party and worn two or three times in my life. I had put them on, shoved my hair to the side and sent a photo of my reflection to Angela. 

“You’re stunning Nicky!  it’s giving a "I’m good on my own boss girl and look at what you lost" vibe. Perfect.“

“Perfect“, I had echoed. 

So here I was, wearing a silky dark blue dress and hills boots, casually chatting with people, a cup of champagne in a hand and a small bag in the other, giving a very worldly version of Nicky to the now crowded place. I didn’t know where to give head, everybody greeted me, congratulated me. I grasped hands of people I had no idea who they were, explained my works a dozen times and emptied several glasses far too quickly. 

An hour or so had passed and I was in a long conversation about my vision of sport photography with a journalist named Franck when she came.

She hadn’t overdressed. She was wearing simple brown suit pants and a silver long sleeve top. I followed her from the corner of my eyes, watching her looking around, clearly searching for something or someone in the crowd. 

She took a glass, her moves usure, and looked a moment at the photographies hung on the walls. She was getting closer when she turned her head. Our eyes finally met. Her lips parted slightly before she close them again and looked away. Misa had always been pretty bad at hiding her emotions. 

A second later she had despaired into the crowd and I excused myself to Franck, unable to talk or listen anymore. Knowing Misa was there had troubled me. I quickly exit the hall to the terrace to light up a cigarette. I took a few puffs and breathed in relief the sweet poison filling my lungs. It was a pitiful compensation. I had not felt the satisfaction I had expected when she had seen me. I didn't know anymore what I wanted her to feel. Impressed? Angry? Sad? She had definitely seemed sad rather than impressed or angry.

As a matter of fact, so I was now, smoking on the terrace on my own. How many times I had dreamt of celebrating the opening of my first exhibition with her. 

With her…

I pulled at my cigarette, forcing my mind to go blank again, my now well known strategy to retain some of my sanity, when I heard a soft voice close by.

Her voice. 

“Lea please don’t...“

She was probably just around the corner, only a few feet away, still she could not see me I could not see her.

“Why not, I like you Misa. And you like me“, Lea’s assured voice replied. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t like you like this…“ 

I was frozen, torn between hearing what I shouldn’t and knowing what was going to happened. 

“Don’t you think it could change?“

“I…I don’t know Léa… I don’t think so.“

There was a silence during I dared to pull at my cigarette. 

“It’s her, right? You’re still in love with her?“ The droping voice of Léa inquired. 

My heart was drumming in my chest, my hurt and mangled soul hanging to her answer as I hold my breath in what seemed the longest seconds of my life.

“Of course I still love her“, Misa’s low and broken voice echoed in the cold night. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Taste / Lost The Breakup Part 5

A/n: Shorter one today but just as sweet- Enjoy!

Previous Part / Next Part

Your eyes fluttered against the morning sunlight through the curtains. You turn and snuggle into the warmth that envelops you, feeling the gentle weight of an arm around your waist. You jolt awake fully. Oscar’s arm tightens around you and pulls you closer to his chest. 

“Five more minutes” He mumbles, clearly  still asleep. His head drops to the crook of your neck where he lazily presses a kiss. 

You run a hand through his hair and try to gently disentangle yourself from his limbs surrounding you. He’s clinging to you like your own personal koala.The movement from you clearly wakes Oscar a bit more. He groans and drops his head back to your neck for a moment. Oscar springs back like he's been burnt. 

“I am so sorry.” He’s teetering on the edge of the bed, half sitting up, arms up between you. 

You giggle. You can't help it. The absolute terror in his face is surprisingly adorable. You cover your mouth, the giggle turning into full blown cackles and before you know it Oscar’s laughing too. His terror forgotten. You pluck up the pillow from where you had been laying your head and throw it at him. It hits him square in the face which makes you both laugh harder. 

You continue like this for a while, the impromptu pillow fight through fits of giggles. Soon you find yourself straddling Oscar’s lap hitting him gently with the pillow. 

“Hey, hey! Time out.” He grabs your wrists and holds them between you, the pillow is forgotten next to you both. 

Oscar stares up at you. For the second time in as many days, you’re mere inches apart. Sharing the same air. Oscar reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. You notice everything about him. The freckles and moles on his cheeks, the way his hair flops perfectly even though he had just woken up. Even the crinkles by his eyes because even if his mouth isn’t, he’s still smiling . You want to just lean in and - 

“We should get up.” Oscar said suddenly, looking anywhere except the woman on his lap. 

You feel like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over you. “Of course” You murmur, extracting yourself from his lap with the grace of a newborn foal. You begin to make the bed, fluffing the pillows and pulling the duvet up neatly. Oscar rolls out of bed and stands looking at you. 

“I’m sorry, I-” He tries to say. 

“It’s fine.” You say, harshly. “Already forgotten, right?” You plaster a saccharine smile across your face. “Good luck in quali today” 

Oscar swipes a hand across his face. “What?But?” Oscar is facing you, the bed feeling more like an ocean. “Why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not mad.” 

“You are!” Oscar rounds the bed, still a respectful distance away. “Talk to me. Please”  

His head is tilted down toward you, tired eyes filled with worry. 

“Don’t- God! Fuck!” You throw your hands over your face. “ Oscar!” 

“Hey, hey!” He pulls your hands away from your face, looking deep into your eyes. “What’s going on in there?” 

You take a deep breath. His face is a mix of concern and confusion, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted. You launch yourself towards him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck. Your lips collide and his arms come around your waist, pulling him further into him. He nips lightly at your lower lip and you gasp. Oscar jumps away from you like he’d been burnt. 

“I-What?” He sits on the bed, his head in his hands. 

“I’m sorry, just with what you said the other night about winning and I thought-” You turn away, dejected. Fully prepared to be packed up and sent back to Monaco. 

Oscar jumps up, spinning you around and holding you by the upper arms. “ No, No ! I do. It’s just complicated, right?” He looks down at his feet and asks quietly, “But with what you said to Lando the night, I have to ask. Is this just a way of processing the breakup? Because I’m happy to be here for you but I can’t do that” 

You pull your arm free to run a hand through his hair. “I think I’ve been lying to myself about how I feel about you for a while.” 

Oscar grinned and then looked at his watch and realised the time. 

“Oh shit, I’m late.” He ran to his suitcase. “ Can we talk about this tonight? I’m so sorry, I have to go” 

You smile and sit on the bed. “Of course, Maybe over dinner?” 

“Absolutely!” He rushes toward the door, throwing a hoodie over his team kit. “I”ll text you.” 

The door shuts with  a gentle click.

@amz824@cmleitora@herexpertcollector@piastrams@coriyaps@milkysoop

[anguishedlurker]

Chapter two coming UP, on Ao3 HERE as well.

~

So at first she'd lost her new notebook, which was all sorts of awful. She just got that, dammit! And had wrapped something up in record time, too!

She knew she'd left it on her nightstand, she couldn't be convinced otherwise either, but where did it go!? She was gone five fucking minutes!

All that wasted time and effort, with the haunting sense she wasn't alone. And in Amity, that meant so much more than it should!

But whatever. She could deal. Or at least pretend to until she could harass her brother, the most likely culprit for this. She hoped it was burning his eyes, sticky fingered little....

So she'd crawled back into bed and curled up, and set aside the steaming rage to be hashed out at the dinner table over cereal. Mom usually wasn't well humored to her making things public, but dad was still mad enough about the riding lawnmower that he'd be ready to take reasons to pile-drive the no electronics mandate for even longer. Wrong move, turd.

And curled on her side, she fell asleep after some not that set aside rage. The reckoning would be afoot come six am.

But she'd woken up suddenly, or at least... she thought she did. Maybe. Unlikely, now that she thinks about it.

All she'd heard as the folds of her comforter revealed nothing was chuckling, before a voice she felt like she should know spoke.

"Pardon the interruption, but I think this story needs its star actor, yes?"

Suddenly, she was thrown in someone's arms.

Under different circumstances she'd aim towards making fun of their clothes, but, well...

It was undeniably a well put together fantasy costume. The sort of thing she'd pick out for one of the guys, if they'd have the intelligence to get her help for any costume parties.

Though, it was definitely sparking a familiar mental image right now...

Arms were wrapped around her, hoisting her back upwards enough to get her feet under her and peel back from them a little bit.

Which is about where it all made some sense.

His hair was messily styled; the right balance of non effort while still being meticulous to the trained eye. His fur pauldrons framed his startled look as the cape swished back with all the sudden movement.

And above all else, he was holding her...

Officially, pinch her. This was too much to wake up to.

Or not, given the scene... 

It was straight out of her notebook. She was the only being in existence that knew what was in there, and this wasn't something her brother could rig up. He'd be a freak to try doing something like this, besides.

It's not like you can slap a white wig on Mikey or Dash and call it good, this was clearly Phantom in front of her, and this simply had to be The Evergreen Field!

Phantom- the prince- shifted from her, looking  over her form extremely carefully.

Right, right, it's weird and strange for some random girl to appear and be enthused at him.

Hell, what were his lines? It can't be that hard.

"Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one." Phantom tittered, just so slightly breathless.

"An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps..." He trailed, shifting his arms up to her hands.

"Lady Manson may well keep the top spot." He clicked, seemingly extremely put off.

That... wasn't it, but it was close enough!

"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She quipped, giggling.

Hey, no, wait. She knows that last name. Why's that name in her book?

Maybe... She's read before that the brain will pull from people and things it knows in sleep, so that's gotta be it.

Because if this is real... 

Frightening thought..

~

("I know you can hear me. You wouldn't dare not be listening in to my thoughts if  only to make fun of me more. We can discuss this, and come to some sort of peace.")

("Don't you like it, child?  She seems so fond  of you, it'd be a shame denying her her fantasies!")

("I know you know I know, you're making fun of me and that is bait. Ha ha, make me flip over being the valiant white knight prince in one of your stories, get her outta here you damn creep!)

("Oh child, this one isn't mine. I took the liberty of polishing it up some , but this story is all hers... Won't you make her dreams, her fantasies, come to... such life?"

Smug bastard speaking in riddles, struggling to finish his own goddamn sentences.

Or... No. Wait. This cannot possibly be this straight forward. Oh, what a mess this is!

His tongue was only slightly unstuck though, meaning he was still going to have a very bad time with speaking normally.

But god, her surprised enthusiasm was clearly waning to concern and fear.

""Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one. An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps... Lady Manson may well keep the top spot."

No, no, no! That should've been ,,I haven't seen an entrance like that since a friend of mine crashed the chandelier into a ball"!!

Not that that was an entrance, but still!

("Unhand my tongue, wretched puppet master.") He spat, cringing as Ghost Writer cackled. Not even his projected thoughts were safe?

"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She laughed, bouncing back to enthused and looking at him like there was no danger going on right now. For a split second her smile tightened, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.

"A fair lady friend of mine, who's of no relevance presently. Did the fall hurt?" He pressed, trying to ignore how the words tripped over his lips ever so lamely.

He was super gonna kill Ghost Writer a second time for this one, mark his words!

"Nope! I'm a-okay here, mister Phantom." She grinned, pleased with his attention. Fucks sake…

"Such a fall could certainly harm any-"

"Sheesh, lay off! It was just onto you, sir." She laughed, shoving him lightly and peeling off of him to look at the sunlit field.

She swayed slightly, her own eagerness to stand up properly and keep on staring, thankfully dragging her eyes off of him and looking excited at the damn horse.

This was going to be a big migraine, and it hadn't even really started! The anglerfish would be better right now, at least innocents wouldn't be with him!

("I'm completely innocent of all crimes, and you need to let her go no matter what you think you're going to accomplish.") Danny shot at Ghost Writer, gritting his teeth into the absurd grin Ghost Writer was clearly typing onto him for this.

The clicking of the typewriter halted, Danny's hopes indulging a doomed little dream before whatever overwrought wit Ghost Writer had could be dropped onto him.

("Nah.")

Nah? Just nah? Uncreative much!

The keys resumed, and the smile on his face didn't get to drop as Paulina went and stumbled over her own feet, stand- ("You did NOT give her kitten pumps in a fucking grass field! You did NOT in fact do-")

("What of it, child? Besides, this is her choice! It's what she imagined herself dressed in!") Ghost Writer snapped back instantly at him, the type-writer pausing seconds after as Paulina seemed to freeze on the spot with Danny's hands moving to steady her.

("Why do you know women's heel types, devil child?") Ghost Writer asked.

While he sounded sincere in asking this, Danny didn't trust that information to stay as idle curiosity. His own words could and would be used against them both to who knows what sorts of effects.

"Madam, are you certain you feel alright?" Danny tried pressing, ignoring Ghost Writer with a pointed mental shove between them.

("Suit yourself child. It won't get you out of this to be oh so petulant to me.") Ghost Writer huffed, continuing to write.

"Yup!" She chirped back, smiling like there wasn't a manic reality altering ghost puppeting this whole strange situation.

The horse very conveniently made noise, and Danny faintly wished Sam was here to be a better social example than his pathetic attempts could ever be.

But then there'd be more swearing and violence if she had actually been with him, so maybe it was better in the short term that she wasn't to cause them hell.

"Well my lady, if you insist on your good health then we should be quick to exit this place, before something else happens here." He said, sharply gesturing to the horse. 

("I can fly and carry her ya loser.")

("Bold of you to try and debate the horse.")

"Ahh, but we haven't really done... Yeah, sure." Paulina said, cautiously agreeing. 

Feet! Lift! From ground! Fly! Fly, goddamnit, fly fly!

“Do what? I find there little to have done.” Danny asked blankly, watching her wobble.

Too many lectures from Sam about the variety of girly shit her mom had tried to put her in left him with far too much knowledge about death traps, formally known as the dreaded high heels, to let him be comfortable with her wobbling around in a grass field. His limbs refused to obey his attempts to reach out to Paulina to help though.

“I find it’s not really important now.” She snipped, approaching the horse to mount it.

To Paulina’s credit she had clearly ridden horses before this weirdo kidnapping, not struggling as Danny looked away.

“You seem embarrassed, my good sir. Why’s that?” She asked, clearly only half serious.

Time ticked slowly as Ghost Writer rewrote his totally witty comeback to her.

“While a pretty dress, I find that they’re bad for hiding a woman's undergarments.” He grit out past Ghost Writers influence.

Paulina slowly turned red and nodded.

(“Is it too crass to say I don’t want to see her underwear in full brazen sight? This horse is absurdly tall compared to us and it’s pretty logical to say.”) Danny pressed Ghost Writer, greatly annoyed.

(“Prince charming cannot say the word panties.”) Ghost Writer staunchly informed him, rude too.

(“Okay. But I wasn’t-”) +

(“Don't lie to me.”)

Danny did not grace that with an answer, watching as Paulina shifted around.

(“Okay, genius, now get me on the horse.”)

(“Can you not ride? I thought that you’ve been on-”)

Danny gave the mental equivalent of a hard stare, not one for this nonsense.

His limbs moving on their own never got any easier than the first instance, the anglerfish a distant memory of a better run in with Ghost Writer.

“Now my lady, might I now ask your name?” Danny asked, letting Ghost Writer take charge.

(“Two ‘now’s? Run out of words?”)

(“Shove it, you brat.”)

Paulina was busy wrapping her arms around his waist as they mocked each other, not yet giving an answer for her name.

“It’s just Paulina, my good sir Phantom.” She muttered through his over fancy clothes, sounding family embarrassed to say it.

“Pretty enough. Prettier most names.” He reassured, making the horse start forth.

“Thank you for your kind words, but I don’t think-” She attempted, squirming as she spoke up.

”Pretty enough to announce to the ball.” He continued, cringing as he realized.

Today was gonna be so, so painful.

I've been Isekaied into Paulina's Novel?!

Welcome to the fic for the EctoImposion 2024 event! I was paired with @thebooo-merang for this wonderful fic, and you should go check them out! And check out the ao3 posting HERE

After an incident with Box Ghost solicits a fight with Ghost Writer, Ghost Writers out for revenge. And Paulina has a convenient little fanfiction that Ghost writer could use. Now Danny just has to survive it, with a starstruck Paulina in tow.

The first chapter doesn't especially need warnings, as everything remains cannon typical. It's under the cut!

~

"Get back here!" Danny shouted, ready to be done with wit for today.

"I, THE BOOOX GHOOOST, WILL-"

"Piss off Ghost Writer!" Do you just break into random lairs in search of weird boxes!?" Danny screeched, trying to dive after a flying notebook.

"I, THE BOX GHOST, WILL-" Box shouted over Danny, waving wildly as he went and sending even more boxes and books flying back and forth.

"RUIN WHAT LITTLE TRUCE I'VE GOT GOING WITH HIM!" Danny cut back, struggling to grab books mid-air with one arm and blast Boxy into submission with the other.

"THE BOX GHOST HAS NO NEED FOR LECTURES ON YOUR INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS! PREPARE TO BE DESTROYED!"

Danny was gonna kill him this time!

~

Boxes and books rained over the town, causing havoc and mild property damage to the unprepared. Paulina could only huff and puff as she bolted across the open street from shop to shop, trying to find somewhere to camp out while Phantom dealt with the box menace, trying to keep an eye out for whatever storefront Star had managed to find for herself.

Another keeper kept their shoulder into the door as she pushed, and bitterly she cursed them out. She probably didn't get any sympathetic glances through the wood door, but whatever! Rude ass motherfuckers locking out innocents while there was an attack!

It was tempting to keep under the eave, but beyond being mere cloth too much was getting tossed around- plenty enough room for something to slam in sideways and get her then!

God! One good day is all she wanted right now.

Though a few more after wouldn't go amiss...

There! The geek shit shop was probably going to let her in! Maybe!

She didn't care, actually, she'd punch through the glass if she had to! Take that, losers!

First, she needed the mental psyche up to dart across the road again. Three, two, one, go!

The owner, or possible customer, waved behind the glass as she ran.The door opened and closed near instantaneously on her entry.

The sound of Phantom yelling at The Box Ghost dampened as the bell rang, and the store owner gave her an uneasy smile and gestured towards the windowless back. 

“Everyone’s in the back. Might be cramped by now, but there’s a lot of shelves to sit behind.” He nervously informed, eyeing the glass windows.

The casual thumbs up sent him away as she bent slightly to wheeze out the adrenaline.

Yeah, cheer takes some stamina, but adrenaline really messes up her rhythm!

Breath caught, it was time to pack in with the other unlucky idiots back here. With care and precision she marched over behind the popular shelf, examined the bodies packed like sardines, and picked a new shelf to hide behind.

This one was packed with books instead of weird anime figures and dungeons and dragons minis, the spines a cold comfort as she sat down and started staring.

The titles on this sort of crap were so weird… 

But she supposed Star seemed to enjoy them, Star's rants echoing clearly in her head. 

She wouldn’t admit it with a gun to her head, but after enough of those rants… she may or may not be able to pick out a few of the series on display.

Sue her, she's a sucker for some of the romances even if they were trashy a lot of the time. And Star's collection at this rate was pretty impressive, to the point Paulina was convinced she was the only reason a store like this could keep afloat in a town like Amity.

The other nerd shit probably helped it keep alive, though. More screaming outside, this time sounding like it was from The Box Ghost in rage. Good. Phantom could pummel that no good fool to goo for what it mattered.

... Ugh. The fight could easily take a long time; Box Ghost might be weak, but he clearly had a lot of material to use this time. But whatever. Here she is in a castle of weeb books. Maybe some could be a good distraction.

~

"No! Not you!"

"Yes, me! Did you think you could trash my library and get away with it!?" Ghost Writer roared, trying to come up from behind.

"It wasn't me, it was-"

But Box Ghost was already gone, the leftover boxes of books now floating to the ground in a suspiciously gentle manner.

Coward. The thought wouldn't leave as Danny shifted the books he'd been trying to save around, awkwardly offering the armful to Ghost Writer. 

Ghost Writer loomed ominously.

~

All at once the outside world went quiet, some shouting occasionally coming close enough to hear, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief loud enough to drag Paulina from her pile of books.

Five more minutes would've been great to finish the book she'd had in hand, not that it mattered...

Now she needed to find where Star ran off to without her, the books carefully left behind in a pile.

Phantom and a ghost she couldn’t recognize quipped back and forth, the day still significantly quieter than it had been fifteen minutes before. The area remained strewn with books, the ghost gesturing to some on a roof.

Now, she could walk around the district lost and confused looking for Star... Or just sit back down on a nice ledge and wait for Star to come to her while watching Phantom.

Phantom made an odd twist in the air as he shouted, still a little too distant to make out properly.

Yeah, watching sounded so much safer and calmer. One hop later and she was perched on top of one of the lower walls purporting to be defensive.

Fat lot of good they did...

Phantom and his assailant came closer, lending her a nice view of what was going on.

Maybe she shouldn't be here, but it seemed to be more arguing than fighting, so whatever.

"While I'm sorry my NOT PARTNER didn't have a spine, you can have yours back!" Phantom shouted as they passed overhead, throwing a book at the weird ghost.

She had to huff out a clipped laugh as the ghost was whacked, even as the ghost elected to bolt as it realized its inferiority.

She could just hear the stunned silence from Phantom, right before he cried out "Get back here!" 

Truly, a foolish thing to think it could stand up to the town hero.

With a certain lack of ceremony, the book the from the fight fell onto her 

"Ouch!" She yelped, one hand raising to rub her scalp as the other fumbled for the offending book.

The whole thing might be a sign it's time to get up and go. Still...

"Raining books is a new one." She muttered, far too late for the comment to be witty but all the same a perfectly serious remark on the latest weird shit Amity came up with.

She cautiously eyed the book in her hands, looking for any oddities. You could never quite trust some of this stuff...

It was just a notebook. Nothing special about it, besides being a trophy for today. The decoration and signature on front was incomprehensible to her, an initial she didn't recognize against the slightly plain front.

Caving to curiosity, the book opened easily. Not that she’d expected anything else. 

It revealed... nothing. Nothing at all. None of the pages had any sort of writing in them.

Well she can't be begrudged for snooping- it's her prize right now. An apology for getting assaulted in broad daylight. This G-W could just deal with it, and the spat was already away from her, so it's not like she was going to be in more danger sitting here.

The blank notebook continued to be uninteresting, and she couldn’t help her annoyance as she shut it. There wasn’t a damn thing to pay her back for getting hit.

Or... well...

She could feel her lip work up into a slight smirk.

I have been wanting to write a new Phantom fic...

The thought was clear as day to her, even as she couldn't wait for the night. What better way to celebrate this particular trophy?

~

Ghost Writer was forced to watch on in abject misery as he realized his collection had been tossed around like a toddler’s toys. No respect whatsoever from the box obsessed lunatic for the actual contents of the boxes.

The nerve! The audacity! To treat his writing like this! The ghost may well need a lesson in manners.

But first, Phantom.

Sure, the boy wasn't the sole force at work- but undeniably the lunatic never would've gotten close to his manuscripts if Phantom hadn't been snooping around in his library.

But don't think he's lost the plot of getting his own books tossed at him! The tactical retreat was nothing more than an admission of lack of home turf!

Nothing to do with not having his typewriter or any notebooks activated!

Ahem... So the child would need an appropriate punishment as well.

Sometime after he collected his books

The whole lot of them, all across town! Lunatics.

It was easy enough to threaten people away from his scripts, but nonetheless annoying and time consuming. Go here, show up there, yell to get their grubby mitts off his stuff. 

Ugh.

The annoyance was the cost of getting everything back. though. He pointedly ignored Phantom’s continued patrolling, likely looking for whatever trap Ghost Writer would end up creating.

Easy enough to stay low and out of sight in the meantime. Whatever he was about to do, it wasn't a ‘now’ plan. Such things take planning, and unfortunately it's not the season to stick the boy back into Christmas stories.

So he was collecting his books, and chasing fools away from them. The cost of love, he supposed.

Still, he was being forced to waste hours upon hours taking his books out of the hands of fools. Having such a collection was not currently a point of pride; He’d have to figure out what went where later.

Slowly but surely his boxes filled back up as he found his manuscripts. There was his old horror story from the eighties, there was his attempt at something akin to a superhero comic, there was his dabbling in... well he couldn't remember either, but if he sat to read it right now it'd take hours for him to finish the book. No reading for him.

Finally, it was time to find his blank notebooks again. He'd be forced to admit that he simply cared less if these ones vanished mysteriously, for a blank notebook was nothing more or less than a possibility.

Most were alright, scattered down the streets carelessly. Some had been picked up and put back down to be examined by wretched hands at a later date.

There was an exception though, something swaying as if held at the edge of where he could feel things. Curious, for how late at night it was getting, but that'd just mean he needed to scare another pathetic mortal off his books.

The pull and search brought him to a cracked window in the suburbs. Nothing meaningful crossed his path, though it was good to be wary; The boy was likely still patrolling, and no doubt Ghost Writer's appearance had put him on edge. As it should.

Slowly rising up to look through, invisible to the mortal eye, he could hear a girl rambling slightly. 

His look through the window was enlightening, the girl curled onto her bed as she wrote with ink that even from this distance sparkled with glitter.

"And then Princess Paulina lived happily ever after with Prince Phantom, aaannd the end." She whispered, pleased with herself.

Barely pausing, she snapped the book shut and laid it on her nightstand, moving to stand and stretch.

Shouting called her away, which was plenty convenient for him even as she huffed and puffed out of the room.

It was child's play to take the notebook back, even with it defiled by mortal hands. It wasn't a toy to be left with creatures that didn't understand what could be done with such tools.

The cover had already been decorated with a couple of stickers and a flowing cursive he couldn't bother deciphering at this second.

Phasing back out of the room and coming to rest back outside of the window, he flipped the cover open.  The inside was decorated similarly.

Oh, yes. That was glitter pen. The pages were coming away bedazzled with runaway glitter.

This book was most certainly going to have to be put in its own container, but for right this second the name on the inside was of modest curiosity.

Paulina Sanchez in bold strokes, fancy flourishes forgone in favor of legibility. If found, return to owner, do not read.

Well now he just had to, didn't he? It wasn't like the rest of the books were going anywhere, the grand total of three he still had to find now could rest safely.

Or well... No, he could spare the time now> What would the boy do, if it blows up on them both? The books shouldn't even be in the town anyways, and it was most certainly his fault thank you very much!

He quickly leafed through the beginning burning through thanks to his superior-ness and a speed reading class he'd attended before.

... hmm.

Hmmmmm.

He'd recently been complaining about what to do with the boy, no?

"This could work." He spoke to no-one, clapping the book shut. For now.

~

Barely past sunrise, Danny squinted at the sky and grumbled. Damn malicious blob ghosts, eating billboards.

Not that he cares about the billboards, but first it's a billboard and then it's drywall.

"Catch!" Got shouted, an object (presumably) sailing from behind him.

Snapping too and turning, he could see Ghost Writer grin manically in glee as a book opened wide.

All he could do was choke out an "eh?" as he reflexively reached, the book splayed open and glowing. Illustory pages floated up and off, and he had a really bad feeling about what was coming next as the world around him went white.

~

Coming to under Ghost Writers writing was not a fun thing to experience, see. One did not simply fade into one of his chaotic and weirdly random worlds. You blink and then suddenly you're just there!

Danny was there, wherever there was. Somewhere was currently a bright grass field, with a decorated horse beside him.

Which he would grant was a better entrance than the last time he'd been flung into one of Ghost Writer's many insane stories.

He would never forget that anglerfish...

But almost just as fast as he got here there was another stupidly bright light, and someone was falling into his arms, briefly bundled into his chest before quickly popping back up to look at him.His tongue was stuck in a way that implied Ghost Writer had ideas about what he should or shouldn't be saying at this time, but that didn't stop the extremely strained noise he gave when he realized the person was Paulina, looking VERY enthused.

[hauntingblue]

CAUSE THIS IS THRILLER (bark), THRILLER (bark) NIGHT

Usopp's outfit is so funny for reals

He got the whole squad laughing

Luffy enablers at it again.... (Robin.... I know.....)

The humor panels so far have been so good!!! God this arc is so funny

HE SAID IT‼️‼️

They look like birds 😭😭

It's just too good... luffy taking cerberus and zombies what can't he do

It's just banger after banger what can I say

Franky feeling for other people because of his guilt complex and sanji lying through his teeth and pulling out the women excuse to seem unaffected... yeah

Look at them.... look how they ate

Omg joyboy reference?? (No)

Sanji is rubbing off on usopp.... also chopper noticing that is sogeking's weapon akdhaksjak

ANOTHER SLAY!!!!!

Their priorities: I'm not strong enough, there isn't enough food, and nami isn't here

Franky going from wanting to kill brook for his jokes to making a joke like his after he hears his backstory... exactly (Robin was already enabling him before the backstory even fdagjsfha)

Sanji is altering his body and actually being on fire to communicate to us how fucking mad he is..... I need more of him going insane I do I do

My god what is he doing ALDJALAJALA

AHSAHAHQHAH THEY ARE THE SAME!!! naaah sanji wouldn't force a woman to be his wife

You cant see me but I am nodding my head in agreement over and over

You don't understand he altered his body to communicate to us how mad he is. He inploded himself and then reconstituted again. Those germa 66 genes are insane

You tell em usopp!!!! The first of many girls you've scared into defeat!!! Akdjqknql

Zoro zombie regressed to not trusting robin akdjaks he's still in there

ROBI-CHO SUPLEX??? HELL YEAAAAAH

There is zosa- [GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]

Super frapper gong.... he is doing combo shots with frobin... omg.... parents....

Everything is so fun I'm having such a good time reading.... and then zosan angst like damn I am being fed well here

[fio-of-the-fae-realm]

So anyways this is how my day is going

[ukulelegodparent]

grrrr why did people ever stop wearing mid-renaissance clothes

[triglycercule]

murder time trio come back from killing some guy (me) and dust just pulls out a rainbow cleaning duster and starts dusting himself off. horror questions him. he says it's self care

[dracolizardlars]

I genuinely semi regularly fantasise about being in a band / a musician purely in the context of sharing the official lyrics for all my songs very publically to make A Point to every other musical artist

[pepprs]

all is not well in waffletown

[charonte-simi]

I stg if I'm turning ace again I'm gonna lose it

[baekuras]

shoutout to todays customer who returned his sunglasses because they gave him headaches and when i asked if he wanted me to check to find the cause of it he refused ONLY to 5minutes after the return ask why they could cause him to have headaches when his daily clear ones don’t

fun fact 1: he was supposed to come in at 4pm because he wanted his money back in cash and we didn’t have that much in the morning, but he came during noon and i had to scrape some together fun fact 2: he asked my male coworker why they would cause issues when i was the one who took on his request for...some....reason....could it be....sexism.....no it can’t be (:

another shoutout to the woman insisting we give her mother who has diabetis, sees double AND can’t speak german and eye exam and tell them why she can’t see well even after me explaining to her that we can’t measure her prescription as well (or at all) like an actual doctor can due to both machinery AND lack of medical knowledge....surprise: it didn’t work out and the result were wonky and she may need prisms but maybe not who knows not fucking me because we skipped like 2dpt between slides at some points and none of the prescriptions i offered and adjusted cleared her seeing double (: yes hi hello i can actually do my job and know what is possible and what isn’t (:

[did-you-fall-for-a-shooting-star]

.

[j-femmescoli]

i had my potential roommates fuck up and make us lose out on our (my dream) apartment by not filing their documents in time before another group swept in and got signed so i sent them a really long text explaining how disappointed i am and how i felt like i did most of the work for this apartment because i wanted to be moved in in like 2 weeks and now i have to find a place before school starts in, again, like 2 weeks and then saying that im gonna move on and look for a place without them because i dont want to go thru this again and now im worried that it's too aggressive.

[watch-out-it-bites]

I am. SO being fucked over by my school 24/7 but if I take extra classes I get to graduate early..

[bitchc0ck]

can someone fucking tell me why my tumblr app updated when i have purposely NOT updated it in nearly a near 🙃