#next year if i move back to my home country ill be living in my own apartment with my own paychecks so she has 0 say over my autonomy

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[jolalibrary]

epilogue. she might just be my everything and beyond

javier peña x f!reader | epilogue of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: here's the epilogue. two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. mention of olivia (steve's and connie's child) ✨ wordcount: 2.7k.

an: at the end.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

you keep flirting with me and ill drive myself over

Oh will you now?

use my key and everything

You have had very little reason to use it lately.

thats cause youre so desperate youre already at the door

Desperate or welcoming?

both

I can be less desperate next time, if you prefer.

dont you fucking dare baby

So when you coming over?

already putting my shoes on

It flies by, time.

One minute, he’s clutching your hands until your fingers slide from his. A promise in the air, one he knows you’ll keep because it's all temporary. Knowing that you’ll be right back, suitcase—and possessions following behind—as you move across the country. 

Within a blink, Javi is asking you where you want things to go, in the little place you chose with so much ease. Spotting you unpack a photo frame, the photo strip from Houston front and centre, sitting on a bed of receipts. 

The next, he’s sweating for reasons he’d rather not be.

His back twinging, protesting as he carries another box to the van. Your smile rises at the sight of him approaching, gesturing to pass it to you—still standing on the edge of the truck.

“Cariño. You’ve lived here six months. How have you amassed so much sh–tuff?”

Narrowing your eyes, taking the box and placing it on top of another, “Nice save.”

Sending you a sink, he smiles as you slide your hand in his to get down. Knowing he doesn’t ever need to feel them slide from his again—hopefully, no emotional goodbyes at the airport. Not ones that don’t involve you visiting someone for a long weekend here or there.

“Are you forgetting that I packed an entire suitcase the first time I saw you? Because knowing that information, I am surprised you’re confused that I’ve doubled my possessions since living here?”

Pulling you close, he focuses on how you feel warm against him—fitting against him perfectly. A feeling he’s had plenty of time to grow used to but finds he never does. How you slot with him, face turned upwards, looking at him like he moves mountains and walks across fire.

If you asked him, he would.

But you never do. You just look at him as though you know he would. Knowing he does.

He supposes it’s why you’re all set to move in with him. Into his home. His room.

This place—as lovely as it has been—will no longer be yours. The little home in the centre of town is tucked away above a video store that you’ve become a frequent customer of, whether he has plans with you or not.

From tomorrow morning, though, you’ll be waking up with him officially. The two of you have had months of it, where you’re there but not entirely with him. Even if, over time, your things have been left amongst his, some even finding themselves hanging alongside his. To the point a drawer was needed—and hangers. Still, for a while, when you said home, you had meant yours.

That was until the last few weeks. Your eyes shimmering, twinkling with the stars in the night sky, curled into his side. His green jacket, the one with the brown collar, wrapped around your shoulders, no longer smelled of old cigarette smoke and desperation but rather sweetness and hope. Your hand entwined with his:

Can we go home, baby?

Yeah, I can take you now.

No, to yours.

You poke him. Light, but purposeful. A little jab to bring him back, and the way you’re smiling at him—fuck. He can’t imagine a look that could make his heart double in size quicker. His thumb strokes alongside your cheek. His pink shirt—the one you had commandeered as your own—rolled up at the sleeves and tied at your waist.

Javi’s noticed you steal his clothes a lot. Fashion them into something that suits you better. He doesn’t moan. If anything, he makes it a purposeful thing to show you how much it means to him—how much he likes it, craves it.

“C’mon, only a few more boxes...”

Groaning, he buries his lips against yours, feeling your smile widen, grinning widely against him as you hold him close.

Your teeth pull at his bottom lip before releasing it with a pop, a twinkle to your eyes. “… think of it like this: once the van is packed, we get more time to say goodbye before I have to return the keys.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, keeping you in place with two fingers under your chin. “And how do you plan on us saying goodbye, baby?”

Sliding your nose against his cheek. “Loudly. I plan on saying it loud, baby.”

You packed me a note in my lunch?

I did

It wasn’t very safe for work.

you said you eat your lunch at your desk

Yes but I’m not a loner, Javi. I do eat lunch with people.

lesson learned then baby

But yes.

yeah?

I don’t think the porch table will cope though, may have to think of a more stable surface.

I think I can think of something

No wood! I am not having you pick splinters out of my ass again, baby.

that was on you

I think it was on you and your speech about how beautiful I looked being a ranch-hand.

Do you fancy coming to my office Halloween party?

do I have to dress up

Yes. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be dressed up too. 

before I decide what are you dressing up as 

That’s the incentive to come, if you say yes I’ll tell you.

do you want me there 

Yes! Want to show you off

then ill be there baby

Because you like being showed off?

yes. but also because you want me there

While outwardly, he’d protested the trip to Miami from the moment you booked it off work up until he was sat beside you on the plane, he does see the beauty in it.

Although, Javi primarily suspects that it is down to you. You with your legs out, you in a bikini on the beach, robbing his shades until he buys you your own—a matching pair, something that makes Steve chuckle and Connie aww.

The lazy mornings that remind him of Houston are nice, too. The ones where neither of you are woken by an alarm or his Pop’s awful singing. The backdrop of the airy hotel room and a warm, gentle breeze blowing the sheer curtains as his thumbs dig into the back of your thighs and make you chant, is a bonus. 

Because Javi can make your skin glisten, and your body sing, whenever and wherever he gets the chance. 

What he can’t have at home with you is the sight of you fitting in so easily with the two people who have become a second family. The ones who have seen him go to lengths he hadn't known was possible, him and his old partner seeing things that only appear in occasional nightmares now. 

Connie and Steve welcomed you in with ease and with them, you smiled so effortlessly. Blending in like you were always there—laughter bursting out of you when you’re playing with Olivia. 

It's there, ever-present on the beach, as you chase Olivia around in the sand. The castles the two of you had been making long since trodden on, as the little girl squeals and squeals until she’s caught. 

“You should marry her.”

Turning his head, Steve nods towards the three of you. Connie snapping photos as you roll in the sand. The yellow tinge from his aviators adds an additional glow to the world as he eyes up his former partner-turned-friend—a friend who apparently now gives unwarranted marriage advice.

Scratching his chin, he rolls his jaw. “You giving me permission, Murph?”

“C’mon, Jav. She’s nice, good to you. Clearly makes you very fuckin’ happy.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I’m already planning it.”

“Yeah? Fuck. Can’t wait to tell Connie. She told me I needed to convince you.”

Javi shrugs, pushing the glasses up his nose. “It so hard to believe I’d have come to that conclusion on my own?”

“Before you met her? Yeah. Since her? No. Could tell you were smitten—”

Snorting, Javi runs his hand across his chin. “I was not fucking smitten.”

“Yeah, you fucking was. No shame in that, Jav. No shame in enjoying one good woman.”

Groaning, he turns back to the laughter. The corner of his lips twitched, wishing to slide into his cheeks as he watches you throw your head back, neck exposed, as Olivia tries to do a handstand.

“I got the ring last month.”

“Shit.”

Turning his head, he narrows his eyes, watching Steve put his hands up in defence.

“You just said—“

“Yeah, well. Forgot how determined y’can be about things. Surprised me. S’not a bad thing,” Steve says. “Just, y’know. Years ago, I knew you as the man who fucked his way through—“

Elbowing him, Javi smirks as he hears Steve splutter. A sharp look added as Steve holds his hand up.

“I’m not that person anymore, Murphy.”

His friend nods, apology falling. The evidence that he means it stitching into his expression—that he was just joking, teasing. An explanation coming, that he knows how he’s changed—all words he would have once craved hearing. But since meeting you, he’d found even the teasing didn’t upset him as much.

Clapping his hand on his shoulder, Javi looks over his shades. “I know. Alright. Just, I don’t like the reminder, that's all. Feels like… feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Y’telling me.”

Snorting, Javi slides his hand off. Moving his eyes back to the sight of Olivia grinning at the two of them. Her small hand trying to cover her mouth as she whispers something to you, something which Javi suspects involves him from the way she’s running full speed towards him.

“She’s grown up so quickly.”

He’s about to reply, but Olivia interrupts—skidding to a stop in the sand, kicking it across his feet. Swiftly, her hand—all small and delicate—wraps around and tugs on his hand.

“Uncle Javi, can you come play?”

Over the top of her, he spots you. Leaning your weight on one side, hand covering your brows to watch his expression.

And fuck, how can he say no to either of you.

hows pops?

He’s good. In fact, enough to be getting your Mom’s cookbooks down from the shelf for me.

I hope you know thats him saying he loves you

He has told me how much it means to him that I wanted these. Also keeps telling me that he’s happy they’ll be staying in the family.

bet that made you cry didn’t it 

Yes! Obviously. 

youre so cute baby

In my defence he caught me off guard with the comment, I was busy staring and deciphering the handwritten notes.

not gonna be able to read them now if youve cried all over them

As always, you’re hilarious. I obviously didn’t cry into the book! I cried in the bathroom.

you turn the tap on to try and hide it again

Shut up, Javi.

i should be back soon, just grabbing the parts now

Don’t rush, he’s fine. Promise. He even says his back is barely giving him any problems since I told him I’d cook from the book.

what you cooking?

Come home safe and find out.

youre such a tease 

Learned it from you baby. 

At one stage, Javi had been good with people.

Persuasive.

Now, he’s unsure if he even knows how to ask for a favour without giving something up or flirting.

He’s still charismatic, or so you tell him. But, he's pretty sure his tact has gone, impatience bubbling as he tries to pretend to give enough of a shit to be able to ask for the favour he wants.

For you, he decides to push through. To not walk back through the door he came through. He does stuff his hands into his jacket, the man staring at him, still wearing the same confused expression he had when Javi first stepped through the door.

Because even if he’s explained three fucking times, the man still doesn’t understand why he asked him to create the crossword he’s got clutched in his hands. 

The one that would never even go to print—just a single request. A favour. All personal, just for him. Not to be published in every newspaper, but just one.

The one for him, and him alone.

It didn't matter how many ways he explained it, the man remained confused. Only reluctantly accepting, he's sure, to get him to leave.

That had been days ago. Now, you're ahead of him. Your fingers brushing over the tops of long stands, occasionally looking over your shoulder at him, making him feel like he's stepped into one of the movies you've made him watch. 

Even when you look ahead, he can tell you’re grinning from behind—taking the view in. It's 'one of your favourites', something you’d told him the first time he brought you here. 

It’s why he brought you here, now.

Second to you, of course, baby. 

You stop some distance ahead, beginning to place down a blanket, all chequered and soft, as he comes to join you. Placing the basket in his hand down on the edge of it, before your fingers are swatting at him and undoing the ties before you grasp the bottle, food and other bits.

Not that he can eat, needing more than what the wine you’d grabbed would do.

Nerves bubbling, dancing and fluttering like the flies further down the hill. You don't notice. You're focused on the newspaper, the crossword he's not let you see for the last few hours, taunting you, making you wait.

He almost wishes he hadn't when it adds to the knot in his stomach, it tightening more when you become irritated at his coyness as he's reading out the clues—

Javi, what are you up to? You always do down, across, down. Always.

You’d have made a good detective or DEA agent.

Likely given him and Murphy a run for their money—something Steve had even said to you both when the two of you were in Miami. Sand in your toes, sea air in your hair—grin brighter than the sun.

“Give it here,” you say, not sharply, but not playfully either.

His hand wipes his lower mouth, hiding his smirk, having wanted you to do that for the past fifteen minutes.

When you take the crossword, you’re chewing. 

Distracted, barely able to spot him sliding the remainder of your punnet from reach. Because Javi remembers how you feel about being asked any critical questions when you are eating.

He supposes it's the one benefit of you making him watch so many romcoms. It allowed him to do market research and ask questions without raising your suspicion, such as where wouldn't you like to be asked and if you want him down on one knee. 

Mainly, I don’t want to have food in my teeth when I’m being asked. Don't want to spit any leftovers at you in my shock.  

“Hey,” he whispers, stealing your attention—watching you smile, glancing at your clean teeth. “Eres preciosa.”

Your lips slide, curling up into your cheek. “You’re such a flirt, Peña.”

Kissing your cheek, he keeps his arm around you. Fingers playing with the fabric on your hip—balling it up before smoothing it out. Thumb and index brushing, calming, soothing him as your eyes glance over the page.

Occasionally, asking him things, avoiding the clues he desperately wants you to solve.

Until.

Fuck, until.

“Javi.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, pretending indifference, head tilted down, resting his chin on your shoulder—knowing from the high-pitched way you said this name that you’ve already cracked it.

Your fingers slide over the paper, smothering the white and black boxes from view. “Javi?”

“Yes, baby.”

“I think that’s my reply, isn’t it?”

Lips curling, he wraps his fingers around your chin, turning you to face him. Watching it happen in slow motion, how you smile before you grin—tears all but filling your eyes as you clearly try not to get ahead of yourself.

“You wanna make me less lonely, cariño?”

Swallowing, you drop the paper. Let it fall to the blanket, twisting your body until your knees are between his thighs as you take both sides of his cheeks.

“Sí.”

“Sí?”

Nodding, a tear falls. It's one shimmering with joy and happiness, his thumb swiping it, spreading it across your skin.

“I don’t know… I don’t know the translation,” you laugh, it spluttering, fingers stroking his skin. “But I’ll marry you. I love you. Yes, Javi.”

And he whispers it.

The translation. Pressing it, as well as I love you, to your lips as his arms snake further around your waist. Hearing you, all quiet, it almost buried in kisses, repeating the translation back.

Before he falls backwards into the grass, with you on top of him—his fiancé. His world.

you fancy coming to laredo in autumn

Any particular reason?

been told I need a best man and I only know you

an: gosh, here we are. i began writing late night texts one night after a chaotic chat with @guyfieriii because i was manic/sad/anxious all at once and it was the only logical thing i could focus on. as much as javi and reader saved one another, they saved me too. thank you to you lovely lot. not only did you welcome this in with open arms, but you cheered me on every single week (also, btw, how cool is it we didn't miss a single week omg). i owe you so much, and i cannot believe we made it here together. to the old followers, i see you. to the new ones who just discovered me, hey, welcome. to all of the friends I've harrassed over the last few months, i love you. to the new ones I've made, i also love you omg. i'm already missing this pair so much, and i cannot wait until we get to hang out with them sporadically. i'm going to go cry in a corner, but just know my heart is so full and so happy and it's all down to you all 🩷

[bitterbutblue]

november 1998 (上)

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SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE CHAT it's been a longgg week and ill try to pre-write dec 1998 so it can come out next week because from oct 25 to nov 8 i will pretty much be dead on tumblr aside from reblogs because of coursework but after that i will be revived!!!!!!!

i feel like this is getting slightly messy im sorry i am ill and mildly burnt out writers block butim going o try my best

my inbox is always open for requests!! and i love getting messages from u guys so please do not hesitate to ask and i will respond as soon as i can <3

this chapter is split in 2 parts! november 1998 (下) and december 1998 will be released quite far apart icl ill try my best though...

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Slide, roll, up and down- five, six, seven, eight.

The meticulous eyes of the trainers have her feeling weak in the knees, hawks with their eyes peeled for prey to stalk on. She wants to collapse to the floor, her feet are blistered and her knees are sore. She can feel her entire body slowly fading as she moves but she can't stop because she's so close. The last time she was in this position she gave in, collapsing onto the ground and panting. She wasn't good enough, she never would be. The trainers just sighed and told her she wasn't good enough and that she never would be good enough. The last time she was in this position, she swore she'd work hard. She'd work until her knees bruised and her muscles ached if it meant doing better than before. If it meant for them to finally see her in the light she wishes they could see her in.

She holds the ending pose, a bright smile on her face but everything that held her body together was threatening to break down in that very moment as her chest heaves and she offers them a polite bow. She strides out of the room with a put-together, confident aura that had the other people auditioning staring and whispering, saying that she will most likely pass the auditions, that she was the one they need to look out for. But she's fighting for her life to not collapse until she's outside the building, until she's away from everyone's eyes.

The second she exits with her bag in hand, she drops to the ground. Uncontrolled sobs flowing out as she buries her head in her hands. Everything hurt, her legs ached like never before and her lungs felt like they were collapsing. She could barely hear the sound of her own brother calling out her name as she dug her fingers into her scalp, head buried in her arms.

"Robin, Robin can you hear me?"

It felt horrible, feeling the sky and all its weight on your shoulders is a horrible feeling. She wants to melt into the ground, dissolve into the pebbles and rocks that are scattered beneath her feet. She feels someone grab onto her shoulders, feels someone pull her into their arms and she feels a familiar thump along with the scent of cigarette smoke. Three squeezes on her shoulder, an attempt to keep her grounded. Holding her tight, an attempt to stop her from trembling like a bomb about to explode.

These breakdowns have been happening more frequently, the worst one being the one right after her dad had to disappear and sent her to live with Sunday in a country too far away but also too close to home. A country she tried to dissociate herself from for the longest time, a country where you were in. Back to the city she left you in.

"Sunday?"

He just holds her tightly.

He's been smoking again, she can smell the tobacco on his jacket and breath, the scent that has her nose crinkling in disgust but she can't blame him anymore.

"Are you okay?"

His voice is as soft as always, a twinge of hoarseness coating his words now. He sounds older, as if he had aged a good twenty years in the span of six months.

"No."

She can't bring herself to lie because she's tired of lying, tired of telling people she's okay and that she's alright when she feels like breaking down all the time. Sunday could only swallow back the lump in his throat as he lets out a soft sigh, holding her close.

"It's going to be okay."

It's not. Neither of them would be okay.

Sunday offers to take her to a convenience store after, driving down the streets in his second-hand car that he got for cheap that is probably older than he is. Robin leans her head against the car window, feeling the slight bumps on the road, watching the city fade slowly into greenery and nature as they drive up the hill back to where they live. The familiar yellow and green sign comes into view as the car slows down, and she sighs as she gets out of the car slowly.

"C'mon, let's get something good." Sunday wraps his arm around her shoulder as they walk through the door. The little bell near the door dings and she was so lost in thought she didn't even realise that there were in fact 2 people at the counter and both of them quieted down the second she walked in with Sunday. She didn't notice as she walked down towards the drinks section to get her puffergoat milk. As she walks back to find Sunday near the counter, her eyes widen slightly. Stelle and you were sitting close, a little too close for her liking and she feels this pang of.. what is it? The same feeling she felt when she first saw you on television, on the news, everywhere. Jealousy. But not of you this time, of Stelle. Stelle must've noticed her staring because she quickly pulls her hand that was resting on your knee away and clears her throat. You had a light blush on your cheeks as you quickly stood up.

"Is that all?" You ask with a slightly forced smile on your face. She looks over at Sunday, who smiles at you with a genuine smile and not one of his old forced corporate smiles.

"Yes, that's all. Thanks, Y/n."

She hates how you look at him with a softer look, a gentle smile on your face that you have yet to look at her with. But to be fair she doesn't deserve that smile and she never will, especially not what she did to you. Sunday slides a bill across the counter and you quickly give the change back.

"You doing alright?"

She stands in the corner, fully aware of how herself and Stelle are purposefully trying super hard not to look at each other and it is incredibly awkward.

"I'm good."

She hears you click your tongue.

"I saw on the news about your family, I'm sorry."

You never told her that. She feels an ache in her chest as she looks down at her battered trainers, scuffed from hours and hours of training as she fidgets with the bracelet on her wrist.

"Don't be. Congrats on your win, by the way. War Dance at fifteen is an accomplishment you should be proud of."

"Hah, yeah, thanks."

She hears the cash register close, and her brother clearing his throat.

"I'll see you around, Y/n."

"You too, take care."

She doesn't look up when Sunday walks up to her, and just follows his footsteps out the door. She can hear the quiet whispers between Stelle and you and it bothers her how intimate the two of you are, how close you are.

Why is she so bothered?

Perhaps the truth is you were her first and only good friend. It was hard to make friends in a country like Penacony where she was the outsider, the one who 'got into the school because of her parent's money', the one who's always sitting alone. She never fit in well there, despite her best attempts to appear put together in front of you over text and email, she was breaking down slowly. Now, she's back and in the same position as before. Alone. Yes, she had friends, but how many of them actually cared for her? How many of them actually wanted to talk to her her and wanted to know her and her dreams and aspirations, instead of only talking to her so that they could date her for her looks? She sees the way some of them eye her, the way they whisper about her behind her back. Aventurine was a nice guy, but him and his friend group are so tight already that she is always just sitting in the corner and forcefully laughing along with them.

She misses you.

She misses the feeling of having a friend she could always rely on, who she always knew had her back even though they were oceans apart. Now she's left with those memories ruined, only haunting her each day as she has ruined all the good she had in her life.

Of course she did.

She didn't even realise they had arrived back into their home until she hears the sound of the car door closing. Upon arriving back into her own room, it really settles in how alone she is. Their family all split apart so they wouldn't be found or put each other in danger, only living with her brother in a small run-down apartment building at the edge of the city. A room with nothing of her own, a city she no longer finds comfort in. She crawls into bed, not even caring that it's 4pm in the afternoon because god she's just so exhausted. Physically from the auditions, mentally from everything else.

By the time she wakes up, the sky had darkened with only traces of the stars and moon illuminating her room.

4:32.

A full twelve hours later she sits in her bed, staring out the window and wondering what you were doing.

You throw your glasses down, rubbing your eyes as you let out a tired groan. The words on the textbook were barely coherent at that point and you just wanted to go to bed but the idea of giving up before you finished this final topic fills you with such intense stress it makes you feel like clawing yourself out of your skin. It's a trapped feeling, you want to break down but if you break down that's wasting your time.

You finally put your pen down, hand shaking as you finally let out a sigh you hadn't realised you were holding in. You check your clock.

4:33.

You rub at your eyes again, feeling your heavy eyelids threatening to shut when you feel your pager buzz. Looking down, you mumble 'what the fuck' to yourself as look down.

A series of numbers.

You tilt your head to the side, picking up your cell and dialling the number.

"Hello?"

"Y/n?"

The familiar but groggy voice has you feeling a leap in your chest.

"Stelle?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you calling me on this number?"

"It's a burner."

"What happened?"

You hear the shaky sigh, the tightening of the throat.

"Can I come over?"

"Yeah, of course." You lick your lips, worry filling you up to the brim as you lean forward on your desk, looking out the window. "Meet me outside?"

"Mhm."

Ten minutes later, you outside in the cold in nothing but pajamas and a coat, she shows up. Her eyes are red, cheeks tearstained. She's wearing not nearly enough clothes and she's holding a duffel bag.

She's holding a duffel bag.

Oh god.

"Stelle, oh my goodness, are you okay?" You whisper-shout as you run up to her, cupping her cheeks as she drops the bag. You yelp out quietly as you feel her pull you into a tight hug.

"My mom found out."

"Huh?"

Stelle begins trembling in your arms, and you swallow back the worry as you pull away to look her in the eyes. You see how her eyes are welling up with tears again and your heart leaps up to your throat in worry.

"What happened?"

She takes in a shaky breath, looking down as she squeezes your hand.

"I- I'm not straight. I'm a lesbian."

Oh.

Stelle takes your silence the wrong way, she takes the way you stared at her the wrong way. She begins to back away, a look of hurt evident on her face.

"What? Are you upset about that too?"

"No, no!" You quickly clear your throat, heart racing for no reason in particular. "Stelle, thank you for telling me, really. I- do you need a place to stay?"

She nods, sniffling as she wipes away at a stray tear.

"Please."

Your mom is going to kill you tomorrow morning if she finds out, but before you even think twice you open the back door and let her in. She follows you like a lost puppy up to your room. She looks so exhausted and tired, and you're worried thinking about what happened that lead her to use a burner phone at 4 in the morning. You tell her to sleep in your bed, and you find yourself curling up on the couch- unable to bring yourself to sleep in the same bed as her. The thought haunts you, your parent not accepting you, never loving you- because you know it's partly coming true for you. Your mom has always had just a singular set goal for you and if you don't follow along, it's bound to fall apart. You just bring your knees up to your chest as you hug the couch cushion tightly, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath.

"Y/n?"

You flinch violently, squinting as the lights are turned on and you see your mom standing there, bleary-eyed but visibly upset.

"What are you doing?"

It's exhausting. All of it. You can feel yourself breaking down as you pick up the cushion, swallowing back the lump that has formed in your throat but to your surprise your mom isn't actually mad. She sits down next to you, stiff and awkward but worry seeps through her and you can feel it coating you too.

"Why are you on the couch."

You sigh.

"Stelle is in my room. Her mom kicked her out."

You were surprised when your mom didn't say anything, when she didn't get mad or start shouting at you for letting a friend in so late. Instead, she just nods.

"Does she need anything?"

You try not to let your surprise show as you look over at her, and she's not looking at you but you see the concerned look on her face as she looks out the window.

"Just somewhere to stay."

She nods.

"Okay. Sleep in my room tonight."

You are too tired to disagree tonight, just following her to her room and getting into bed. She doesn't follow, switching off the lights and closing the door to her room as you lay in her stiff bed. It's uncomfortable, rock hard and hurts your back but it's the safest you've felt in a long time as you bury yourself into the pillows and close your eyes. It's been a long month, and it's about to get longer with exam season coming up next month. A sound of a phone buzzing has you groaning, blinking groggily as you search through your pocket for the phone you never took out.

"Hello?"

There is only silence on the other end.

"Who is this?"

The phone eventually cuts off and you curse angrily, tossing it to the side before burying yourself into the bed once more.

Please, you just wanted to finally get some sleep.

Robin stares at her phone, swallowing as she stares at the remains of the call that had just happened. Her heartbeat echoes in her ears as she puts her head in her hands, taking in the last of your voice. Your voice when speaking to her with no malice or venom, pain or hurt. It was all she wanted for now.

[orquidborgo]

Well, I'm getting a fever and with a lot of ideas, so I'm going to write them here because I don't have anything better to do!

This are concepts/writing ideas I got that I have more or less the story made in my head but I never wrote it down because I don't have the confidence to publish anything (haha self esteem issues are so funny), so here they are:

Jake Muller, professional B.O.Wsitter

* I got this idea while reading a modern fantasy resident evil fanfic (where the wound drips venom from your soul), basically:

After the events of resident evil VI, Jake only accepted jobs that allowed him to fight B.O.W and protect people BUT that didn't get him a lot of money, with Sherry's birthday approaching he is thinking about taking a mercenary jobs that pays very well until he receives a call from Chris Redfield, go to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska(? I'm thinking about changing the location) on a mansion with everything paid to take care of 5 B.O.Ws, just not the way he though he would.

Perfect paintings

* I got this idea from reading a really short story from space marine husbandry (I think it was from @kit-williams, is a story about a custodes, idk I forgot, it was so long ago) but I never got the confidence to write it because I don't think I will write a good mystery piece that'll comply with my expectations:

Detective Arad Yilmaz approached the scene, this is the 4th murder this month, the murders follow a pattern: All of them were strangled to death, had long black hair, honey/light brown eyes, middle eastern heritage and where last seen interacting with a really tall astartes.

The location of the corpses leave a trail as if the murderer have been moving constantly, following the same movement as the chaos warbands path, now with this corpse being found by a Dark Angel the astartes want to take this matter in their own hands.

Will Arad be able to find the murderer, bring them to justice and avoid an all out war between astartes before is too late? The clock is ticking.

There is no home like the one your bonded is:

* After reading Cedric's story in space marine husbandry (I also forgot to say that Cedric belongs to @sleepyfan-blog, sorry) and watching the movie "Bolt" I got thinking, what happens when a space marine grows a bond with a human that lives in another country and is only visiting? So here it is:

Guillermo Testarossa is visiting the U.S.A for his winter vacation, following his aunt's advice to stave off boredom he ventures into the local astartes hospital with his aunt's bonded apothecary. There he meets an injured space wolf, the rest of his vacation he spends it talking and having fun with this astartes but not everything last forever and he has to comeback to his home country Argentina, saying his goodbyes and promising to comeback next year.

Unbeknownst to him, this space wolf will not wait an entire year, using a joke his brother-captain made as motivation, with a camera, a notepad and supplies on his back he embarks on a adventure walking from the U.S to Buenos Aires - Argentina to find his bonded, taking photos and recording everything he encounters in his journey. The only thing he knows is that his bonded lives in San Telmo, works in a coffee shop with private tango shows and studies electronic engineering.

Save us from ourselves

* I seriously need to read Magnus primarch novel because there is no way you are telling me a whole planet of highly trained psykers (this mfs have magic, mind you) with space travel technology didn't have a plan B to evacuate civilians in case of a invasion, and I also like Arknights a LOT so, this is kind of a crossover between 40k and arknights:

Rhode Island is an humanitarian/pharmaceutical organization that travels across space with the mission of saving psykers, protecting those infected with flesh change and find the cure of said illness, right know they have treatment and have developed technology to protect/stabilize psykers with it so they can live a normal life.

Marckus Ahriman is a young 16 year old field operator with signs of mutation and a big heart who wishes for a world where all psykers are free and flesh change is finally cured. In a fateful operation battling against a chaos incursion he finds a soul shard that "calls" to him, upon touching it he remembers: he Magnus the Red, primarch of the Thousand Sons and son of the Emperor of Mankind, or well... A shard of him.

My big... Primarch?: Friendship is Magic (this is a temporary title)

* I watched a few episodes of my little pony so this is a crack fic, don't mind it that much:

During her fight against Starlight Glimmer through timelines; Twilight Sparkle gets "knocked out", but when she wakes up again to try and stop Starlight, she ends up in Magnus's body as a baby. So is basically her dealing with 40k insanity, family issues and trying to go back to her home.

She would try to understand why the other primarchs are so apprehensive of magic and would try to befriend them: She would try and not use magic in front of Mortarion after knowing his trauma and help him through it the best she can, would cure Angron of his nails, Leman would finally like her because she gets tired of his bullshit and start throwing hands and things like that.

Magnus's regular day

* With how pridefull is Magnus about magic, I'm surprised he hasn't gotten in a lot of psychic shenanigans in "regular show" style, every chapter would be Magnus getting into a crazy adventure, sometimes pulling his brothers, any of his sons or a unfortunate custodes along the ride.

The Emperor, Malcador and Constantin are just... Done with his magical bullshit at some point and just let him be because they know that he'll somehow fix it at the end.

So... Yep. This is all I got.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Was curious if you have any interesting information on L’Hospitalet de Llobregat?

I moved about a year ago, and I am about to sign up for my first Catalan class with the CNL soon. Since I do not speak Catalan yet and have limited Spanish, a lot of information I come across for my new home is not accessible to me.

Thank you in advance, and for you write on here in general. It is a great resource.

Thank you! And best wishes for the course with CNL, I hope you enjoy it!

L'Hospitalet de Llobregat is the 2nd most populated city in Catalonia and has the most densely-populated neighbourhood in all of Europe (Torrassa and Collblanc neighbourhoods). I'll shorten it to L'H from now on.

There's archaeological evidence of population in what nowadays in L'H since the Paleolithic (hunter-gatherer communities in the Prehistory), Ancient Iberian (the indigenous people who lived here before the Roman invasion), and the Roman era.

Ancient Roman head of Medusa known as "Medusa de Provençana", found in an excavation next to the Santa Eulàlia de Provençana church in L'H. Nowadays it's exhibited in the Museu d'Arqueologia de Catalunya, Barcelona.

The origin of the city as we know it now dates back to the Middle Ages. It originated as two entities: the older Provençana (which we have written records of since around the year 900, and was found around Sta Eulàlia de Provençana) and the later Hospital de la Torre Blanca ("Hospital of the White Tower", from around the year 1100, what is now barri del Centre). The second one was a hospital not in our modern sense of a place to take care of the ill, it was a house for helping poor and homeless people, probably founded by the Knights Hospitaller. It grew in population and ended up becoming more important than Provençana, and eventually the name that designated the whole area was changed from Provençana to L'Hospitalet (meaning "The Little Hospital" in Catalan).

But throughout all of these centuries, L'H was a very rural town with a small population (as an example, it had about 900 inhabitants in the year 1815). The population grew when an irrigation canal was built that allowed the fields to be way more productive, reaching 5,000 inhabitants around the year 1900. But the population boom came in the 1960s and 1970s, during the Francoist dictatorship, when many immigrants from different rural parts of Spain moved to the big cities to work in the industry. That's when the areas around Barcelona were quickly built up in these massive apartment blocks to make the "bedroom cities" from where the newly-arrived workers commuted to work every day. The population boom was so huge that it explains why L'H is the 2nd biggest city in Catalonia and so densely populated.

Carrer de la Florida in 1956 vs 2024. (L'H city archive / Google Maps).

Carrer de la Renclusa, 84, in 1955 vs 2024. (L'H city archive / Google Maps).

Carrer de la Mina, 19, in 1956 vs 2024. (L'H city archive / Google Maps).

Avinguda del Torrent, 78, in 1956 vs 2024. (L'H city archive / Google Maps).

These "bedroom cities" had been built so quickly, that they didn't have any services. The inhabitants had to fight for all the services they have, which created a strong sense of pride that still continues nowadays.

As another note, one of the most famous maquis (anti-Francoism guerrilla fighters) was from L'H: Quico Sabaté. You can read about him on Wikipedia here. Another famous person from L'H is Ferran Adrià, one of the most famous chefs in the whole world.

I hope this was interesting, and I hope you can make the most of the Catalan classes, it will surely help you understand the country more and get better perspectives for a job.

[prettyinpurplelights]

IV.

“I cannot believe we actually made it.” Mia gripped your hand excitedly, her acrylic nails digging painfully into your skin.

“Girl, hold my hand any tighter and you’ll crush my bones. I won’t have a hand to collect my diploma with.” You giggled softly, prying her fingers off the back of your hand so you could lace your fingers together instead, her sweaty palm pressing against yours.

“Sorry.” She replied and you squeezed her hand in response. “I’m just so nervous, can you believe after all our hard work, we’re finally here?”

“I know.” You sighed, looking out into the audience of family members and friends that were filling into the giant cathedral to watch and support their loved ones on one of the most important days of their lives. You and Mia had finally come to the end of your degrees, and today would encapsulate the last four years of all nighters and countless assignments. You were graduating with a Master’s degree in fashion design and marketing, Mia in medical neuroscience with psychology. As well as saying goodbye to your university, you were both parting ways with the city too, leaving Marseille for Paris early the following morning. During your final year, your main project was to put on your own fashion show, making the pieces as well as being responsible for promoting and marketing the event. You didn’t sleep for several weeks, but it had all been worth it because the show was a huge success, landing you the highest grade in your cohort as well as a job waiting for you at Louis Vuitton, whom having interned for them the summer before, and after your show being such a hit, offered you a place at their headquarters in Paris. Mia had also secured a fellowship in one of the biggest hospitals in the country, working with their research department on new treatments and cures and finding the causes for all sorts of illnesses to do with the brain that she had tried to explain to you but had gone completely over your head. All you understood was that it was incredibly competitive and very hard to get into, so you were extremely proud of her, and very excited to start this new chapter of your young adult lives together. You had already leased an apartment to share, and moved almost all your stuff over during the summer break. It was now a matter of starting to unpack and make it more of a home when you both returned to Paris for the last time in less than 24 hours.

“Ouuu I see Elliot!” Mia squealed, waving her hand that wasn’t holding yours excitedly. “He’s with our parents, come on, let's go and say hi before grad starts.” She stood up, dragging you down the small steps where the choir would usually be during mass, instead, today, it was where the graduates were to be seated during the graduation ceremony. She pulled you through the aisle, mumbling a few excuse me’s as you weaved through the sea of people talking to each other, the atmosphere electrified with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming ceremony.

“Mommy, Daddy!” Mia's smile grew wider as she hugged her parents tightly. Her parents had moved to London when she was 14, her dad’s hotel business was expanding and he’d started to branch out into the rest of Europe. Mia was supposed to have gone with them but she didn’t want to move to England, and after a lot of bargaining, she’d managed to agree with her parents that she’d live with her grandmother instead, hence how you became friends, she had moved to Bondy late into the school year and the only spare seat in your form tutor was next to you and the rest was history. Unfortunately, Mia’s grandmother had passed away just before she was due to start university, and since she was officially an adult, her parents let her stay in France. She’d fly out to see them regularly but it had been a while since she last saw them, and they’re very busy people so you knew she was very pleased to have them here and you’re glad they could show up for her.

You hugged your own parents, your dad clicking at his camera repeatedly, making sure he had enough photos to commemorate this occasion.

“Dad, I don’t even think I’m in the frame in the one you just took.” You laughed at him, as he squinted behind the lens.

“Close enough! I’m so proud of you, my sweet baby girl.” He leant over to kiss your cheek before walking off, muttering about finding someone to take a group photograph.

“You know I don’t think he made such a fuss when I was graduating.” Elliot appeared by your side, his hand reaching up to grab your cap, to remove it so he could ruffle your hair. You ducked under his arm, knowing exactly what he was trying to do and pushed him away from you.

“Don’t you dare El, I was up at 6 this morning doing my hair, you’re not messing it up!” You scowled. “And besides, we both know I’m mum and dad’s favourite.” You added. A smug smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “At least I’m the smart one, all you do is play with pretty fabric all day.” Elliot had graduated with a degree in sports science the year before, ending up at PSG, working as part of their medical staff. From what he had told you, he was really enjoying himself, and it probably helped that it was the same team Kylian played for, those two together, you were sure they were putting the other PSG players and staff members through hell.

“You know without people like Y/N, the rest of us would have nothing to wear, you’d be naked right now.” Mia slid up to Elliot, her arm wrapping around his waist as his went over her shoulder and squeezed it.

“I know you wouldn’t complain about that.” He replied.

“Mmmm, probably not.” She looked up at him, pursing her lips as he reached down to kiss her.

“Ew, the both of you. Please, I’m literally standing right here.”

They both laughed, pulling away just as your dad returned, some poor 20-something looking boy in his stead, holding the camera.

“Where’s Marco? Is he not coming?” Elliot asked, craning his head around to see if he could spot your boyfriend.

“Um…he’s in Tokyo. We broke up.”

Ex-boyfriend.

“Oh shit, sorry sis. What hap-“

“Group photo everyone, quick together!” Your dad interrupted his sentence, and you were thankful for his extraness in that moment, not wanting to answer any questions about your break-up. Your dad ushered you, your mum, Elliot, Mia and her parents into a huddle. It took a couple of minutes to organise everybody, your dad was kind of a perfectionist; it’s probably where Elliot got it from. You were stood between Mia and your mum, your brother behind the both of you. You turned to face him and from the look in your eyes and the way your lip turned downward slightly, he knew what you were going to ask, the issue of Marco long forgotten. Someone else was on your mind now.

“He’s going to be here Y/N. He might be a bit late, but he’ll be here.”

“He didn’t come down with you?”

“I had to pick Mum and Dad up so we got a later flight, he said he’d make it down himself. He wouldn’t miss this. I’m sure he’s on his way.”

You nodded, as you turned back to the boy holding the camera, mustering up the biggest smile you could, trying to ignore the way your heart felt so heavy in your chest and the sudden way your gown started to feel stuffy and uncomfortable. You and Kylian weren’t on bad terms, in fact, you were great. It had been almost three years since you’d decided to take a step back from him, and focus on yourself and who you were outside loving him. Not to say you stopped loving him, you don’t think that was something you’d ever be able to do, but you’d reached a point where he wasn’t all you thought about and it didn’t dictate everything you did and consume your entire being. You’d even managed to date someone this year, your first official boyfriend, Marco, for about 10 months, until he had to move to Japan for a student exchange transfer and you’d mutually decided to end things while you were on a good note because long distance for a whole year was not worth it; you’d remained friends though. You liked him a lot, but you didn’t love him, which was one of the reasons why he’d also agreed, howbeit reluctantly, to break up before his transfer, he’d told you he loved you 2 months prior and you were still yet to say it back. He had wanted to stay for you, but you encouraged him to go, not wanting to hold him back, especially when his feelings were so strong for you and yours were…well, not as strong. You didn’t want to disappoint him if you still couldn’t commit several months down the line and he’d thrown his future away for you.

“Graduates please make your way to your assigned seats, the ceremony will begin in 5 minutes.”

You and Mia hugged your families one more time before making your way back towards the stage. Your phone buzzed in your hand as you sat down, bringing it up to your face.

“Kylian?” Mia asked, her inquisitive nature causing her to lean over your shoulder and read the text on your phone.

“Ouuuu Marcoooo.” She sang teasingly as sat back and unlocked her own phone.

Hey, I know we’re not together anymore, but you’re still my friend so I wanted to wish you luck today! ♥️ proud of you always

Thank you Marco 🥺 I really appreciate it. How’s Japan treating you?

It’s amazing. The culture is just wow. And the sushi DEFINITELY tastes better here. You’d love it.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type out a reply when he sent another message.

I miss you.

You heard Mia wince audibly next to you, obviously reading the conversation between you and Marco.

“Get your big ass head out of my business.” You bumped your shoulder against hers as you sent Marco a quick reply about the ceremony starting so you had to go, not at all in the mood to unpack what that “I miss you” meant.

“Shame. I liked Marco. He was good for you.”

“Mmmm.”

“At least he congratulated you, better than that idiot your brother calls a best friend.”

“Ky’s our best friend too. And I thought you were on his side? Team KyY/N?”

“That was two years ago Y/N. He couldn’t even be bothered to send you a message about not coming.”

“El said he’d be here.”

“You think so?”

“I told him about today personally. He promised me he’d be here. For the both of us.”

“Oh we both know which one of us he’s coming for. And honestly I couldn’t give a fuck if he shows up for me, no offence. But for you? I’m skinning him alive the second we get to Paris.”

“He’ll be here.” You whispered to no one, almost as though you were trying to convince yourself. He had given you his word he wouldn’t miss today when you’d called him a few months ago about it. Initially you thought it might be weird, speaking to him on the phone, since you’d only been texting recently, but the thing about you and Kylian is no matter how much time you spent apart, you never fail to fall right back into your usual stead of things.

You hadn’t seen him since your birthday at the end of January, where there’d been a sort of awkward moment when you’d introduced him to Marco, who then had been your official boyfriend for a couple of weeks. He had just gotten back together with Renee, they had been together since your little confrontation at the airport two years back when you’d told him to focus on her. They had been on and off since they’d started dating, from what you’ve seen in the media, Kylian never really talked to you about her. From what you’d read over the course of the years, they’d broken up a couple of times, not that you cared or were keeping count.

******

He picked up after 3 rings, his face filling the screen when he answered. You gave him a little wave and a smile spread across his features, his dimples greeting you.

“Y/N. Hey.”

“Hi!” You replied, your voice chirpier than you’d expected it to be.

“You okay? Did something happen?”

He must’ve noticed the way you anxiously chewed at your bottom lip, your telltale sign something was wrong or you were nervous. In a similar way, he would squeeze his eyebrows together and his nose would twitch involuntarily when he was feeling the same. The harder he scrunched his eyebrows, the less nervous he was, the increased frequency of frown lines strewn across his forehead meant he was more likely to be angry instead. You knew each other’s tics and tells, probably better than you knew your own. By logic you and Kylian should’ve worked, you complemented and contrasted each other in the most perfect ways, but for some reason, the universe didn’t seem to agree and rather preferred to have the two of you in constant awkward situations and miscommunications leading to petty arguments. It was a quite cruel joke to be honest.

“Um, no, everything’s fine, I’m good. I was just wondering what you were doing August 1st.”

“Hmmm, the league starts again the week after that I’m sure, so just training.”

“Or nothing, if that’s what you need me to be doing.” He added and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered a little bit his words.

“Well Mia and I are finally graduating on the 1st. My parents and Elliot will be there. I was wondering if you wanted to come-“

“I’ll be there.”

“Really?” He laughed at your response.

“Gummy, you’ve wanted to be a fashion designer for as long as I’ve known you. I remember when you took it upon yourself to be mine and El’s stylists in middle school, I don’t even know why I let you do that, you used to put me in the most ridiculous outfits.”

“All you wanted to wear to school was your football kit.” You rolled your eyes. “I was trying to broaden your horizon a little bit.”

“Even then, you had talent, I can’t even imagine what you’re able to do now.”

“Well not to brag, but I am on track to finish top of my class.”

“Didn’t expect anything less from my girl.” He smiled genuinely and heat rose rapidly to your cheeks as you looked away from him for a moment.

“Of course I want to be there for you. But are you sure you’re 100% about it? Not to brag, but I am kind of a hotshot on the football scene right now.” He mocked, using your words against you playfully.

“Oh shut up!”

He laughed again, before continuing.

“I’m serious though Y/N, I know you like to stay out of the limelight and stuff, I don’t want to ruin that for you or steal attention away. This isn’t a private party like your birthday.”

“I want you there Ky, I want everyone I love there. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Just then, you heard your boyfriend call out from your bedroom, his voice growing louder as he neared you in the kitchen.

“You ready babe?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressed a kiss against your cheek when he noticed you were on the phone.

“Oh hey man!” He waved at the screen. “How are you doing Kylian!”

“Hey…Marco. I’m good.” The smile on Kylian’s face dropped briefly as he greeted your boyfriend with a slight grimace. You quirked your eyebrow, wondering what the hell that was about but now it was his turn to break eye contact, looking everywhere but at you and Marco.

“How’s Renee?”

“Ummm she’s good. We’re…good.”

“Still can’t believe this guy is dating the biggest supermodel in the world, very fitting.”

You scowled, turning to face Marco, his comment grating on you a little bit.

“As opposed to you dating what?” You questioned, daring him to say some more bullshit.

“The hottest, smartest, kindest girl in the world of course.”

“Hmmm, better be.”

“How did you deal with her quick temper all your life Kylian?” Marco asked, and you elbowed his rib in response.

“You see what I mean?” He laughed, walking away from you. Kylian didn’t even bat an eye, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“So anyways-“ You started but Kylian interrupted you, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than you could register them.

“I gotta go. But I’ll be there August 1st. You have my word.”

“Oh, okay, yeah sure. Say hi to Renee for me.” You had barely managed to get out before he ended the FaceTime abruptly.

******

That was the last time you’d spoken, save the occasional text, but not once had he mentioned he wouldn’t be able to make it to your graduation. So by the time the ceremony was done and you had collected your diploma and walked down the aisle to cheers from your family, received more congratulations and took even more pictures and said your goodbyes to your family, to say you were simply pissed off was a great understandment. Some fool had even thought it would be funny to do Kylian’s infamous goal celebration in front of the cameras before collecting his diploma which amused everyone in the cathedral but vexed you even more. Kylian had always been there for you, he’s always tried his best to be present when you needed him, this was one of very few times he hadn’t shown up for you. But it hurt still, this was probably the most important thing you’d needed him for, and he’d not even bothered to shoot you a text he would be a no show.

“I know for sure he got on that plane Y/N.” Elliot had tried to reassure you earlier when you’d walked him and your parents to the Uber they had booked to take them back to the airport.

“Well that means fuck all to me. He’s not here.”

“Gosh he’s such an idiot. I’m going to skin him alive when I see him.”

“Funny your girlfriend said the same thing.” You laughed, but not really feeling humoured in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it El, I don’t know why I expected any different from him.”

“I know he has the funniest way of showing it, but he cares about you Y/N. And he loves you.” You ignored his comment, giving him one last hug before he slid into the front seat of the cab.

“I love you El.”

“Love you too sis. Always. You and Mia have fun tonight alright? And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You nodded, saying goodbye to your parents once more before the car pulled away. Mia appeared at your side, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Mia?”

“Mmhm?” She replied.

“Let’s get absolutely fucking wasted tonight.”

———

“Why the fuck did you listen to me when I said we should get wasted last night.” You groaned, flopping onto the couch, your suitcases abandoned by the door. You’d finally arrived at your apartment in Paris, a little before midday, exhausted and terribly hungover.

“You looked like you needed it.” Mia sat by your side, laying your head on her chest and rubbing your shoulders.

“You’re so lucky you recover quickly, I still feel like I’ve been hit by a monster truck.”

“I’m gonna go out and do some food shopping, I’ll bring you something. Get some rest.”

You’d practically gone straight from the bar to the train station. You, Mia and your group of university friends had gone out to celebrate graduating, and also spend one last night together before you all split and went your different ways. It had been a great night, but you’re definitely regretting it now, as you were sure the others were too. You hadn’t even had a chance to shower as you and Mia had to pack the last of your stuff and hand in your old keys to the landlord before 7am since the train to Paris Lyon was leaving Marseille St. Charles around 8.

You decided to take a long shower while Mia was gone, you usually felt much better after a good soak. You’re glad to have your little travel toiletries bag because you had absolutely no idea where anything was; the apartment was filled with countless unopened cardboard boxes. You had about two weeks before your new job started so you and Mia could hopefully unpack and decorate in that time.

Definitely starting tomorrow. There was absolutely no way you’d be putting together furniture and organising your wardrobe today, you planned to stay in bed as long as you could instead.

You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard the doorbell ring, probably Mia who had forgotten her keys. You wrapped your towel around you, securing it as you opened the door.

“Did you not take your key-“ You looked up, your sentence breaking down half way through when you realised it wasn’t Mia in front of you. You rolled your eyes, moving to close the door in his face but he was quick, his foot reaching out to block the door from locking.

“Y/N, hear me out, please.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say Kylian, take your foot out of the way before I crush it.”

“I have boba?”

You paused for a second, still refusing to look at him.

“What flavour.”

“Mango milk tea with passion fruit pearls. I brought croissants too, from the best bakery in Paris. Very expensive. Very tasty.”

You opened the door wider, letting him walk through, cursing him for knowing you so well. He set the items on the little bit of space he could find on the kitchen worktop that wasn’t covered in boxes before turning to look at you.

His eyes scanned your body, starting at your legs, stopping when his eyes met yours. You felt stuck to the spot, your blood turning to lead as your eyes remained fixed on his, his mouth slightly ajar, your heart pounding fast. You forgot you were angry at him for a minute, flashbacks of the last time he’d seen you like this flickering across your mind instead as you suddenly remembered you were wearing next to nothing. Your hands came up to cover your chest and legs, breaking the both of you out of your hypnotic state.

“Umm…I’ll be back. Gonna put something on.” You muttered.

“Yeah…umm…sure, I’ll wait here.”

You raced to your room as quickly as you could, ignoring the funny feeling in your stomach and the way your heart was racing like it was running out of time. You rummaged through the boxes, trying to find one that had some clothes in it. After a couple of minutes of sifting through books and shoes and everything else, you managed to find a bag at the bottom of one of the boxes with your gym clothing.

You pulled the shorts and a t-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes when you realised which top you were wearing. You walked back into the room with your arms crossed, trying your best to look angry as you faced Kylian, a smile spreading across his face when he noticed your top.

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, I could only find my gym stuff and it was the only top in there.”

“You work out with my name on your back?” He held out the boba to you, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Shut up. These jerseys are surprisingly very breathable.” You snatched the plastic cup out of his grasp, piercing the film lid with the straw and taking a sip.

“Well yeah, we do run around in them for 90 minutes so we’d hope they’re breathable. Remind me to get you a new one from this season though, that one’s a bit outdated.”

“This one’s just fine. Thank you for the boba.” You raised the cup at him before stretching your hand out, pointing to the open door that led to the hallway. “You can go now.”

“Y/N-“

“Kylian I don’t want to hear it. You think what, by bringing my favourite drink and cracking jokes everything’s okay?”

“No, of course not. I tried to call you last night.“

“And I didn’t answer for a fucking reason. Did it cross your mind maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after you stood me and Mia up?”

“Listen-“

“There’s not an excuse you can give me that’s valid Kylian. You promised me you’d be there. I kept looking out for you, the whole ceremony, even after it was over, we lingered around the venue for so long my parents and Elliot almost missed their flight back home. Of course I didn’t tell them why I wanted to wait around, they still think you’re the best thing that’s happened to them besides their own kids.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I got on the plane to come to you, I swear-“

“So you were in Marseille yesterday?”

“Yes, I was on my way to-“

“Funny you were in Marseille yesterday.”

“Y/N-“

“Because I was in Marseille yesterday, and this morning too actually, up until about hmmm, 4 hours ago? But I didn’t see you. At all.”

“Y/N-“

“You’re so-“

“Y/N STOP TALKING!” He suddenly yelled, your sentence cut off midway by his outburst. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many frown lines across his forehead before, he must be really pissed. That makes two of you.

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

“Well I don’t have a choice if that’s the only way to get you to fucking listen.”

“I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say.”

“You know what? You always do this. You always assume you know what I’m going to say, or how I feel so you just cut me off before I get a chance to even explain myself.”

“Because I know you’re going to come out with some bullshit Kylian! Always you and your empty fucking promises, I’m so over it. But sure, prove me wrong. Go on, explain yourself then.”

You raised your arms as if to say he has the floor to speak. He clenched his jaw, his lips in a tight line as the both of you stared at each other, a million and one emotions swirling around you. Anger, pain, disappointment, sadness. If looks could kill, the both of you would be simultaneously 6 feet under.

“I swear I didn’t mean to miss your graduation Y/N, I really wanted to be there. I literally got to the airport and I, I bumped into Renee. I swear it was unplanned, I had no idea she was going to be there, and we just started talking and she had a lot she wanted to say to me, and honestly I didn’t realise how long we were together for, I swear it wasn’t my intention to miss your ceremony.”

“So what was so important that you had to talk about there in that moment, for such a long time-“

“She wanted to get back together.”

“You broke up?” This was news to you, as far as you were concerned, Kylian was still dating her, you hadn’t seen anything in the tabloids about them breaking up.

“Yeah. A couple of months ago.”

“So you’re back together now? For what, the 5th time?”

“It’s complicated Y/N. I love her.”

A sharp but fleeting pain travelled across your chest and it took everything in you not to physically keel over. It was laughable, how easy it was for one person to completely lose feelings they claim to have had and fall in love with someone else, while the other couldn’t even utter the words to another, whether they meant it or not. Because the pent up feelings were still there, choking you, gripping your heart tight and rendering you useless, incapable of loving anyone else, but him. You felt like dying, maybe it would hurt less than living in this sick and twisted reality, this constant loop of being reminded he’s never going to love you the way you love him.

“Yeah, Kylian, I can tell. Because she clearly means more to you than I do. I told you about this weeks in advance, you gave me your word yet when something better comes along you’re quick to just brush me under the rug like you always do.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even know how to talk to you when I realised I’d missed the ceremony, I didn’t think you’d want me there-“

“Of course I’d want you there, you fucking idiot, you’re my best friend. Why else would I ask you personally to come?

“I knew you’d at least be with your family, Mia, Marco.” He said Marco’s name with such disdain you almost laughed at the audacity he had to seem irked by the mere mention of your ex-boyfriend when he had a girlfriend of his own.

“Marco is in Japan. We broke up. For good.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you? You don’t talk to me about Renee, I don’t talk to you about Marco. Some kind of unspoken rule right?”

There was a silence between you before he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I know you loved him.” For someone who’d been in your life for almost two decades, perhaps Kylian really didn’t know you as well as you thought he did. Or maybe you were so good at pretending you’d managed to convince everyone but yourself you’d been in love with Marco.

“Anyways Ky, I think you’ve done all your explaining. You can leave.”

He rounded the kitchen island, stepping closer to you so he could take your hand that wasn’t holding the drink, gripping it softly in his.

“Y/N, I really am sorry. Please, l don’t want us to start your move to Paris on a bad note. You have no idea how happy I am that you're finally here to stay. Let me take you out tomorrow. Just me and you, a celebratory dinner. On me. Heck I’ll even take you shopping, any store you like, I’ll carry all the bags and not complain one bit.”

A soft giggle left your lips and you cursed yourself for letting him get away with his shit so easily.

“Please, I’m sorry gummy. It won’t happen again. Let me make it up to you.”

“You better bring your shiniest Amex card tomorrow when you pick me up.”

“It’s a date.” He smiled, and you tried not to think too deeply into what he’d just said.

Just then, you heard the front door close, Mia appearing in the doorway with several shopping bags, singing to herself. She noticed you and Kylian stood in the middle of the kitchen, your hand in his and she rolled her eyes, knowing you had definitely let him off easy. Luckily for you, she wasn’t about to do that. She smiled sweetly, before reaching into one of the bags and pulling out an orange. It happened so quickly, you didn’t not anticipate the orange leaving Mia’s hand with such force, heading straight for Kylian’s head. He managed to duck at the last second, the fruit finding the wall behind him instead of his skull.

“Mia what the hell?!” He shouted.

“Fucking dickhead. You’re lucky that wasn’t a knife.”

/———-/

Part 4 finally 😭😭 just two more parts to go! Sorry it took so long please forgive me 🤞🏿 and it may seem like it’s going round in circles but they gotta do this stupid arguing and not talking about their feelings 5 times before they finally get their shit together so we’re getting close to the happy ending, very soon though it’s deffo going to get very messy before it gets better 😵‍💫 I hope y’all like it <3 (also it’s half 3 in the morning and I haven’t edited this entirely so I’m super sorry for any mistakes 🙏🏿)

Also I know the French don’t do graduations (shame if you ask me, I loved my grad) but I had to have one to fit the story 🤭

And I’m sorry for making y’all wait, im back at work and it’s hard to find the time to write (I had a bit of writers block) and also I find it hard to write super short pieces so it does take me a while to write so I’m super grateful to y’all for being so kind and patient 🥺🫶🏿

LINK TO MAIN POST

TAGLIST

@lululuvsfooty @nayeoniie @cherimbp @karotland @m4k444 @cixstar @lovefks

[sol-arise0]

I WILL WRITE TO ALL CUSTOMERS MYSELF WITHIN A WEEK.

(With a detailed text of what happened to me and what we will do next...)

Thank you in advance, if you can read this to the end, there will be a lot of letters about my feelings that I have always held back. But I no longer have the strength to remain silent.

Now there will be a long post about why for more than a year I behaved badly on social networks, practically not posting art. Some of my subscribers have probably seen posts that I had to have two operations (one was on my stomach in 2022, the second on my eye in 2023, and unfortunately both times fell in February, on the eve of my birthday) Now, looking at the past, I understand that this there were the clearest hints that I was mentally ill back then. Because the doctors in both cases said that the reason could be stress, which caused an exacerbation. But it just so happens that I live in a family where we BASICALLY DON'T TALK ABOUT OUR PROBLEMS, essentially downplaying that, wow, it turns out it can be bad mentally, not just physically?

In addition, I am the daughter of my father, whom my whole family sincerely despises for leaving my mother with debts so HUGE that she has been paying them off for 20+ years. I think you understand why my mother feels negative emotions towards me, putting pressure on me, trying to change me. Unfortunately, I now realize that she didn't do any better. For this reason, in the late spring of 2023, I moved into my sister's apartment, during her absence, to keep an eye on it. And feeling that no one is pushing you, how you talk, walk, sleep, eat, that you don't have a boyfriend, you look terrible and other things - it was easier for me. So it turned out that when my sister returned from vacation, I asked her to stay for another while. And well, in short, it was both a good and a terrible time.

In a nutshell, I was working through my problems, and the second dragged myself to the bottom. Of course, because I expected🥹👍 that I would take up painting seriously, working for money🤌, no one would touch me, (I was always a "housewife" in the family house, because we could not hire special people, so to help my mother, I did all the work around the house, garden, and even I helped with the documentation, although I am very inattentive.)

Living with my sister, I realized that all my expectations would crack against mine... Apathy? I don't know what to call this period, but I was just basically a vegetable. I didn't want anything. I got into debt because of this, I couldn't get a job, and drawing made my hands tremble because I had commission that I couldn't finish. And so it turned out to be an endless circle of lack of money and despair - I couldn't finish art cmm, so I couldn't take new ones out of shame, I couldn't get a job, because I didn't even have the strength to go out for a walk. So it turned out that every day I ate kefir with a little bread, because I saved my expenses up to 2.5-3 dollars a day.

Seriously, if my sister hadn't fed me from time to time, I would have gone back AGAIN to the hospital. I understood that everything was going wrong, that it was abnormal, why it turned out that I was so weak, incapable, and more.

And so, we come to the end of the story. I returned to my parents' house because we had earthquakes from winter to mid-spring, and living on the 12th floor you only think about a quick death.:"") I'm going through this mini home hell again, because it's even more fun! My stepfather and mother converted to Islam. Completely. And you probably know that painting, music, open clothes and other things are considered forbidden/sin there. Well, if I used to be neutral about religion, now I'm really AFRAID of it. That one day I will still get caught on gayshit, which drawings I am working on, and I will be beaten like poor girls in Islamic countries. What adds a spark to the situation is that they know what I'm roughly called on social networks (also my older sister, with whom I have smtm conflicts, again fuckin religion!!, SHE IS SUBSCRIBED TO MY INSTA, AND I CAN'T DELETE HER BECAUSE SHE'S A FOOL HAS SEVERAL ACCOUNTS THAT I DON'T KNOW ABOUT) so I think in the near future either to move accounts (insta).

In short, I'm just tired of hating everything and everyone, crying and getting angry, constantly holding back emotions so as not to conflict with my family. Because I know what the hell we've all been through together, that's why I've put up with everything before. And it did me harm, because my creative nature is ready to die from my fears, pain, mood swings and constant pressure. Against this background, I asked a friend to give me a discount so that I could make an appointment with a psychologist at least once (I'm still terribly ashamed, but I hope in the future I'll pay for everything) And she was told that there is a damn suspicion of ADHD!!!! But to prove it, i need to go to a therapist, and this is tantamount to being branded crazy... after all, there are no mental problems unless you have schizophrenia.👍

That's why I'm writing this post. I am sad that I wake up every day thinking that it would be nice to die, and other apathetic thoughts. Now I have to decide to close it all. All debts to customers, all debts to myself, because I know that I am an unloved daughter who knows how to love everyone except herself. Because now, I know that damn it, yes I, yes I'm not talented like my siblings and peers, but I'm good in my own way. It's a shame that it took me more than 10 years of my life and a year of starvation and despair as an insolvent person to understand that I need to mentally support myself, and not shoot myself in the foot with all these nagging and discontent.

That's why I share my plan with the world, because I know that I need support, help, and that it's not a shame to talk about myself and my problems.

- First, i will close my $2,000 debt.

- The second is to set aside at least $1,000 for a deposit for future housing.

- The third and most important thing is to release a project called "ResinRays". This is a large-scale world that was born a long time ago, but was resurrected thanks to a friend who supported me.

Overall, thanks to all my friends, if they didn't tolerate my tantrums, then maybe... I wouldn't write this now. That's why I love them!! 🥹🙏😭💖💖💖

If you have read up to this point, then thank you very much for that!!! It's damn important for me to know that there are those who are willing to at least support me like that! I will be glad to establish contacts and draw again, because let the AI assholes go who think they will kill the creative potential of artists!

[heyitsmemel]

Just sad musings tw chronic illness / irl sickness (plz no reblogging)

Ngl, the last two months of my life have been so incredibly difficult and I just... idk I feel like screaming into the void. About to move back to my birth country after two years of living in Spain which has felt more like home to me than anywhere else. No idea what will happen next or if I'll be back here, but my long term partner wants to go back to our birth country like its no big fucking deal and I just feel.... like we're at a crossroads. My heart is breaking at losing my house, this country, this city. I will always be a foreigner in Spain but now I feel equally foreign to my birth country. The buildings are too tall, the culture so much cooler, more rigid, more seriousness, more grind till you drop and its just like????? FUCK I'm basically forced against my will to go back because I physically cannot work a regular job any longer so no more work visa for me. Chronic migraines all the time, no matter what I do. I put in WORK man to help my body, to love her, to nurture her, but it never seems to be enough, and instead it feels like my body is disintegrating at 25 years old. Had strep throat two weeks ago and missed an entire trip to Budapest and now I am sick AGAIN my fever is as high as the temperature outside, migraines are migraining and I just !!!!! FUCK WHAT MORE CAN I DO? I want to slip into a new body, a comfortable looking one and live my god damn life. Trying to use my disability and a decade worth of physical suffering as a means for expansion and growth and awakening but it. just. feels. so. fucking. devastating. at. times. like. these. It really feels I exited the womb into a baptism of fire. Also it’s so much fun to be moving continents like this in 3 days truly I do reccomend it :):):)

[mwagneto]

hey guys in case anyone wanted like a life update since i haven't really posted about like my real life in a while: i finished my 4th semester but now i'm gonna take a gap year from uni coz i'm way too mentally ill to endure the horrors (genuinely insane amount of exams every semester) this often so i gotta rest or i will actually die. but i love my major and all the friends i made there so idk i might go back i might not i just hope this year will help me figure it out. other than that idk i'm doing well i finally got the chance to live my full extrovert life for the past 2 years because of uni but i'm still like incredibly fucked up mentally in a lot of fascinating ways. which is a weird thing to reconcile with idk. like i'm so normal and popular and fun in social settings but when i'm home i lose my mind completely. not even in ways that really bother me like it's just how i am who cares but it feels strange it feels like i'm a spy pretending that i'm not the most mentally ill person in most rooms. yknow?? like again this doesn't bother me it's just like. damn this is just how i am huh. like even when i'm happy i'm still insane. good to know👍 but like again overall i'm happy i just feel completely lost in the way most young adults do i assume. and like i need to get the fuck out of here and move to a western country while i still can i legit #cant do this dawg. but i love putting things off and doing nothing and just assuming things will somehow work out. so yeah my current plan for the next year and change is to like, work and travel and hopefully figure out what i want to do. also i'm gonna try doing more things online bc there's many many things i wanna create for the internet but that's a whole different post i might never make. anyway idk if anyone wanted to know what's been going on w me but umm it's this. thanks for reading <3333

[ash-is-dying]

Mr. Perfectly Fine: Chap 2

A/N: It’s like 12am right now and i’ve been doing this since 9pm... really wanted to get another chapter done and dusted and I actually really like this one so hope you enjoy! 

P.S. Also let me know if you want me to make a taglist at all...

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Chapter 2: Mr. Here To Stay

---

That one interaction hung over your head for the rest of the week. What once was a peaceful and calming place to relax was now haunted by the presence of one aggravating barista. Unfortunately for you the closest coffee place aside from Grateful Bread was blocks away and not worth the walk, so you were stuck with Eddie, the pretty barista from hell.

Avoiding him proved to be easier said than done. He worked most mornings as you’d come to find, on days it was just him you’d wait until the morning rush brought an extra pair of hands to the register and when he placed your order on the bench which made him roll his eyes every time you made sure to wait until he’d moved onto the next order before collecting it. Mornings had become a game of cat and mouse except when you were around Eddie it felt more like starving lion and mouse.

Your one reprieve was on the blessed Sunday morning when you walked in to see Wayne working the counter and Eddie nowhere in sight. Risking it even if he could just be in the back or on break, you swiftly approach the owner who spots you and breaks into a tired smile. “The usual?”

You smiled softly. “You know me too well Wayne.”

He nods and makes his way over to the coffee machine preparing the myriad of ingredients for your usual drink. You stand there watching quietly until your curiosity gets the better of you. “So who’s the new hire? I’ve seen him around recently but haven’t gotten the chance to talk with him yet.” You said lying through your teeth in the hopes of finding out anything about the pretty asshole making your life miserable from afar.

“Eddie? Yeah he just moved to town, needed some quick cash while he settles into school so I thought I’d let him serve while he gets on his feet. Barista is most certainly not his dream job.” He said shaking his head and laughing.

You smile in return, Wayne’s laughter becoming contagious. “You know him too well?” Wayne closed his eyes and shook his head,

“Only lived in my trailer for the first twenty years of his life, the bum. Still hasn’t paid me back a cent for his college degree.”

The realization dawns on your face and your eyes widen, “So you two are…”

Wayne looks up and shrugs, “Yup, that couch potato is my good for nothing nephew” he says kind heartedly, “he’s really more like a son to me than anything, he’s been living cross country for a bit and decided to finally settle down closer to home.” He sighs. “More than anything I’m just glad he’s back in my life for a bit, won’t be long before he gets some savings and goes off on another road trip and I’ll tell you one thing that boy does not look back.” He finishes his speech and puts the lid on your coffee cup to go gently sliding it across the counter. “Sorry darl, feel like I’ve been hogging the conversation. Much going on with you?”

Still reeling from Wayne’s admissions about Eddie the questions fly through your head a mile a minute. ‘How on earth is Eddie your nephew? Why is he such an asshole? Why is he in town? How long’s he around for?’ And yet all that comes out of your mouth is; “No. Not really, just stopping by before my music lecture.”

Wayne nods and reaches for the small bakery display window pulling out some tongs and placing a custard danish into a brown paper bag and placing it in front of you. “On the house. You gotta be taking care of yourself girl.”

“Oh no- no- really its fine Wayne, ill grab something on the way home.” You smile  before he crosses his arms.

“I ain’t arguing, enjoy your breakfast kiddo.” Before you can reject him again he slips away back to the front counter. You blush and tentatively grab the pastry before leaving to head to class, mentally beating yourself up for letting Wayne do that for you.

The guilt begins to wash away as you eat the flaky treat on your walk to campus, the custard is sweet and the pastry is sticky as you hold the bag while you eat, trying to save your fingers from the inevitable. By the time you finally reach the building your sweater is covered in crumbs and the leftover hot chocolate is now lukewarm. You stretch and sit down on a nearby bench, pulling out your music notebook trying to get something down before class, your mind continuing to wander to the tattooed boy who is becoming more intriguing by the day.

---

As you walk in you notice the classroom looks different than usual. The lecture hall has been rearranged. Desks are now set aside in pairs and there is labels on every other desk, some form of assigned seating unfamiliar to the students, you included. You look around and find your chair in the back corner, your desk mate being nowhere in sight. As everyone found their name tag and sat in place the professor started to speak.

“I’m sure you’re all curious why you’ve been seated this way today. I’ve decided that it is time for you all to work on your collaboration skills, a musician must learn to work with a conductor, songwriter and above all else other musicians in order to progress their skills to a more professional level.”

Your eyebrows furrow as the desk beside you remains empty and your attention wanders to your partners tag.

Edward Munson.

Whoever he is he must be new, the class only consists of about fourteen people so keeping track of names is not something you struggle with. Someone you’ve never met and have no experience with in the slightest is who you’re going to be depending on for your music degree. Someone who isn’t even here for the first class of the new course. Lucky you.

You turn back to the professor.

“I have paired you with those who I believe have different music tastes and styles to you going off of your application demos you submitted when you joined this extension class. This will be work the majority of your grade this semester so I suggest you make it count. Spend this first class getting to know your partner and begin to understand who they are, after today I expect you to no longer be strangers.”

You resign yourself to spend the class scrawling in your notebook possible style collaboration ideas, a gut feeling telling you that you’d be completing most of this task. Your headphones go in as the sound of ABBA takes you away from the slight disappointment of not having a partner. Due to this your ears only catch half of what is happening outside your little bubble. There is the sound of the door opening behind you and some mumbled speech hard to make out before a certain phrase catches in your ears.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Clear as day a familiar voice penetrates your brain and causes you to look up beside you. There stands a boy in what seems to be pajama pants, deep grey ones with lightsabers wrapping around the legs. He also wears a stained and well worn iron maiden shirt as his teased curls sit on his shoulders, his whole body slumped over, his eyebrow raised in annoyance as the current bane of your existence glares into your eyes.

Edward Munson.

Eddie Munson.

Shit.

The pair of you stay silent processing what this all means. This is so much worse than working with a stranger.

“Glad to see you’ve shown up. I think we can skip the pleasantries and just get to work.”

“Agreed.”

He sits, more flops into his chair looking over your shoulder at what you had been working on. He closes his eyes and rests his head on his arms. The smell of cheap cologne and sweat fills your nose as you frown and continue to write on your own. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t shown up. At least then you’d still have your sense of smell.

This is how the class continues until the professor comes around to read your notes. “These are all good ideas I like them a lot.” A smile graces your face. “But… I don’t know if I’m seeing much of Mr. Munson in here.” Your smile falters slightly. “Have you two been getting to know each other like I asked?”

This perks Eddie up as he lifts his head and opens his eyes slightly. “Oh trust me sir we’re well acquainted.”

The teacher leans back on the desk in front of them. “Then tell me what her favourite song is, favourite colour, where she works, anything at all that you’ve been talking about.” Eddie sits in silence formulating his reply.

“She has almond milk in her coffee.” He replies smugly causing you to scoff.

“He’s a barista at my local cafe sir it hardly counts. He doesn't even remember my name.” You slide your hand over your name card as he grimaces at you.

“As if you remember anything about me.” He responds snarkily.

You sigh and turn to face him. “Your name is Edward Munson but you obviously prefer to be called Eddie, you work at the café Grateful Bread most days a week except for when you come to your music lectures. You obviously don’t particularly care about being on time for said classes and I’d say you feel the same way about work and you get away with it because your boss is your uncle Wayne. You can’t stand it here and you can’t stand me and I’m almost entirely certain as soon as you can afford it you’re leaving this place for good.” You cross your arms as Eddie’s mouth moves and no words come out.

The professor is the first to speak “Sounds like you’ve got some homework to do Mr. Munson. I suggest you both spend more time getting to know each other properly and less time psychoanalyzing each other. I’m expecting big things from you two, you are by far the most advanced students in this course after all and I hope you can be mature and sort this out like adults.” He stands and moves to the next group leaving you both in the same uncomfortable silence as before.

“So… what’s your favourite colour then.” Eddie asks in a monotonous voice.

“Black.” You respond sharply.

He looks at you like you just spat in his face. “Black’s not a colour. It’s a shade.”

Your fist clenches as you hold back the snarky comment stuck in your throat. “It has to be a colour as light is absorbed by it and we can physically see it with our eyes.”

“Uh no. Black is a combination of colours meaning it can’t be a colour itself it just exists as a shade.”

“Your logic makes no sense. If black is just a combination of other colours then how is it not a colour it’s just a darker tone than other colours.”

The palm of his hands dig into his eyes. “Even your favourite colour is dumb I swear-”

“And what makes your favourite colour so great?”

“My favourite colour is dark red like a normal person and it is the best colour.”

“That’s not even a proper argument- Why did you even start this fight? You sound like such a child.”

“At least I’m not an uptight prude.”

“Up yours Munson.”

The class is dismissed soon after and Eddie stays seated whilst you pack up your things. “I’ll write you a copy of my notes so you know what our project is.” You move to leave before turning back sticking your nametag lopsided to his desk. “That’s my name by the way asshole in case you ever wanted to actually know who you’re bothering with your childish bullshit.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind sweetheart.”

You scowled as you walked out of the lecture hall, your head hurting and your face on fire as it dawned upon you that Eddie Munson was becoming Mr. Here To Stay.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Minor Improvements

Okay, so the few bits of good news:

My stepfather fixed the sink. Apparently there's nothing I can do to stop it from doing that, and thankfully it's only likely to do that to any great degree once every few years. Maybe "it's been long enough that the shittily designed plumbing in this flat has been able to clog beyond redemption" will be enough of a wake-up call for my stepfather to get a bloody move on with actual renovations.

And then there's the job.

...No, okay, look, before I go on with the minor improvements, I have to say a thing. Yes, I know that this job is wearing me down and making me very unhappy. However, two things:

Unbelievable as it sounds, this is the best job I've ever had. It accommodates my medical issues, where others have literally fired me for being ill (yes, they were temp jobs, but the last time I checked, one day to recover from the fact that I could barely even walk because of the horrible chair they stuck me with and refused to even try to replace even when I told them it was causing me physical pain was not grounds for terminating a contract). There have been at least two jobs that have literally rendered me unable to work for varying spans of time, whether because migraine or back problems because of a shitty chair or RSI so bad I could barely move my hands. THIS IS THE BEST OF THEM. Meditate on that awhile.

There is no earthly way that I could find a job that would accommodate my disability in this economy. None. Not in this economy, not in this country. The push to get people back into the office means that getting to work from home would be next to impossible, and part-time? Forget it. I was lucky that this job valued me enough to accommodate me, and that took a literal year of fighting for it.

So no, I can't "just find another job". And even if I did, it would be worse. I can guarantee you that it would be worse. And the disability benefits in this country are nearly impossible to get, even harder to keep, and harder still to live on. This is the one place I have to vent, okay? Let me vent. Send me sympathy, or if you can't, at least don't skirt the edge of potential victim-blaming. None of this is my fault, and if "just finding another job" - and more to the point, finding a better job - were so fucking easy, we'd all be doing it, for one reason or another. I just have it a little harder than some because I need accommodations that almost no one is willing to give. Please, just let me fucking vent.

Anyway. On to the workplace. There is some questionable good news. After a lot of yelling at HR over email, they finally sent an actual guide on how to use the Timesheet system. However, it was not particularly comprehensive. It took a lot of fiddling to find out which of the many extraneous codes I wanted for submitting an overtime claim - apparently "Extra Hours Worked" ain't it, and you have to go through three pages of menu to find "Overtime", which actually does. So I have successfully submitted my claim for the overtime I did in October. Unfortunately, I can't submit my claims for August and September, because I've been paid for those months already and "Historical Data Cannot Be Edited". So basically all this faffing about has meant that I wasn't able to submit my overtime claim for those months. Scruffman is going to escalate this, because he agrees that I should not be denied the pay for the nearly fifty fucking hours I put in during those two months. I figure what'll happen is that I'll have to put those hours into random spots in November and make a note that those are carried over from August and September.

Though that might be hard, all things considered. See, I may end up having to put in yet more overtime, because again, "unexpected absences". I don't know what the fuck is going on with my colleagues in the office, but it's clearly some kind of absolute clustermolest. Also, the New One is following Temp's example and will not touch a piece of dictation that's over a minute long. This is just a theme now. I've told Scruffman that I won't be able to pull overtime until I'm feeling better, though, because I feel like absolute crap right now. Fibromyalgia and con crud have a lot to answer for.

...Gods, I hope this isn't the flu...

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain ( Also on A03)

{ Chapter 18 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, or weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Warning: SA in the first part of the chapter

Word Count: 7.5

P.s: I'm knocking this out faster than my Hazbin fic. The sexy tumblr men are fighting!

To tell a man he could create a new life after watching the one he had before vanish was the cruellest advice, in Vladan's opinion. It was insensitive to the loss of a family, legacy, and business that was once flourishing. Vladan had watched the way his mother fell ill to a broken heart after his father's passing and he was sure she would be next to follow. His brother was not getting worse but was far from ever getting better and Tayonna was feeling the weight on her shoulders just as much as her master. Vladan was now the head of the house, meaning every ounce of freedom he had become accustomed to while living in the colonies was gone. It was not an option but his faith as his mother kissed his forehead and told him how much she loved him. Vladan knew way before the illness that struck his brother he would be the one to shoulder the world. 

At a very young age, he quickly disregarded his toys and traded his childhood for academics and business practices. He had lost himself at the idea that he would gain control of the family, which made it even harder to accept his role when he had lost sight of said mindset due to his newly found liberation with Tayonna. In the heat of the family's fall, Vladan took hold and kept his family stable within the colonies, their home across the seas was sold to usher in their transition which caused great distress to Luther. He would miss their country home that sat atop a hill that looked down into the old town square with the beautiful church bells. Vladan would miss them too, they were his haven of knowing the time of day in a melody rather than the rattling that the colony's church called music. Luther could not survive a trip back across the seas, it was dangerous to try no matter how much Luther begged his brother and mother. He wanted to die in the arms of his empire if it was possible. All Vladan could do was promise that when his time was to come he would make sure Luther’s body was taken home and buried with the rest of their family.

It was morbid but it was all the family could do while trying to shift the focus of death away from business. Vladan’s father was a trusted merchant who dealt with the settlement shipments that came in from the other world. Day in and day out Vladan’s father was keeping track of the moving world rather than his own family. Now Vladan was doing the same but at least he had someone to talk to when things become stressful. Tayonna had promised him that she was at his side just as much as she was by his brother’s. Their affair had yet to blossom in the way Vladan’s mother and brother expected. The pair was careful and even scared to express their interest in one another. Even in the comfort of the house, the two kept their relationship with that of a housemaid and her master. Vladan’s mother secretly begged for some sort of entertainment at times but she knew her son. He was like a wolf that only ate the meat it could hunt itself and never the meat it had randomly found. Whether he was prideful or just scared, the boy’s mother huffed at the idea that Vladan would rather wait for her death than acknowledge his burning desire. 

It took Vladan a while to accept that the large oak desk within his father’s study was now his. The books tucked in the wooden shelves collecting dust were his. The handmade furniture his father picked out from Prussia was his. The land and the house that was now empty of the old grumpy man was now his. That awe would strike him at times but would be quickly washed away when stacks of papers and letters came across the desk with his name on them. He had to work. He had to make sure he took care of his family. 

As he finished writing his name across the paper in front of him he felt that something wasn’t right. His mind told him that the paper in front of him wasn’t correct. He placed down his quill and held up the document making sure the ink didn’t run. But there wasn’t any wet ink. There weren’t any handwritten letters either, the paper seemed foreign with the letters seeming robotic and the date at the top seeming so far in the future. Vladan looked back up to the top and the image in the corner caught his attention. It was big, bold with black words and a red outline like a banner; it read ‘Vlad Co.’ which was not one of the ships Vladan had to manage. Vladan's brows knotted as he tried to think of what ship this was but his mind was quickly averted when he looked down and saw the name he had written was not his. 

Vladan placed the paper down and took hold of his head when a pounding pressure began to form right above his eye. He shut his eyes and tried to relax so the headache would subside but it never did and made him miserable. He opened his eyes again and now the paper was back to normal. His name was at the bottom, the top of the page was empty, and the letters in the middle were handwritten. Vladan was confused yet quickly blamed it on his head. He was working too much and the day was far into the afternoon. Normally when the sun was halfway through the sky Tayonna would knock on the door to call him for midday supper. At times she would come in and they would share each other's company.

She hadn’t come. There was no knock at the door and Vladan began to feel a sense of worry. Tayonna never missed coming by, he tried to get up from his seat but he was stuck to his chair. He tried again but when he wouldn’t budge he gave up and looked around to see what was causing this. The headache was growing more and more painful. It felt like he had been slammed against the desk over and over before being thrown to the floor. He stopped trying to get up from his chair and held his head in his hand hoping the pain would stop.

Knock. Knock.

Vladan rose his head slowly and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he thought it was finally Tayonna. But when the door opened his heart dropped and his headache worsened.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mister Mægisters.” Phoebe Speldercast spoke before she entered. Vladan's brows knotted and annoyance bubbled in his stomach. He didn’t like this woman one bit. 

Phoebe Speldercast was the town’s head judge’s estranged daughter who caused more issues within the town than good. Her father was a nasty man who ran the town with a black cloak that left people blind and at his mercy. He was known for going beyond the book of God and justifying his torture as the gospel that would keep everyone pure. When Vladan found out the judge had children he was not surprised to find that his daughter was just as nasty as him. She was treated with so much honour by her father’s work that it left her untouchable from any wrongdoing she could accomplish. She stuck out from the rest of the town with her fiery red hair and striking blue eyes. It was said that when she was born she was a gift from god as an omen of a plentiful harvest in the autumn. Vladan knew that was the farthest from the truth. She was wicked and cruel to anyone who did not bend to her will, at times calling upon her father to aid her in the destruction of innocent people. 

Phoebe had been the reason people’s businesses were torn apart and given to the court. She was the reason many women feared that at any time their husbands could be taken from them and remarried. Not because the men could not stay faithful but simply because Phoebe said so. The woman was her father’s lurking shadow that made it easy for the man to stay in good grace. If anyone would go against god’s omen then everyone would burn in the depths of hell. The town was submissive, no one wanted to go to hell or even be associated with any wrongdoing that would cost them their life. Phoebe was death. 

This was why Vladan could never understand how someone like Phoebe could have such a sweet and caring twin as Magdalena. Everything Phoebe was Magdalena was not and was better, including having green eyes instead of blue. Vladan couldn’t help but cherish the times he had the honour of talking to the nicer twin. He wishes it was Magdalena’s responsibility to come to him about her father’s stocks rather than Phoebe's.

The woman was dressed in her signature red evening gown she was gifted from France. Due to her status, it was ignored how European she was. The English in the land took a more modest appearance. Phoebe made it clear she lusted for the exposure of luxury from the whiney empire of cheese and wine. It was like the town couldn’t see how outlandish she looked, she was like a ghost walking among the living. Vladan took note she had purposefully worn a dress much lower in the neckline that showed off more than he was willing to look at. Her hair was twisted and curled, pulled into a messy bun that lengthened her neck and made her look delicate.

“I come to speak of my father’s stock. As you know-”

“As I know it is mid-month and the ships from the Germanic states have arrived later than usual. Yes, I have informed your father and made it a point that once everything is settled, he shall be the first to know.” Vladan was quick to cut the woman off. Her voice wasn't annoying, thank god, but it was clear she was putting on an act to seduce Vladan as always.

Phoebe looked annoyed from being cut off but dismissed it, smiled sweetly then took the seat in front of the desk. She sat sideways causing the ends of her dress to rise and pool around her making her lean forward. She was trying to make him look down but Vladan was smart and could never fall for her tricks. 

“Then I come of my own accord,” Phoebe said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and slowly blinking up at Vladan. He was not impressed.

“What is it, Miss Speldercast? Last I checked, everything you own is in your father’s name, it is his property. Women hold no property.” That seemed to hit a nerve as Vladan saw the way her jaw clenched and her gaze became hardened. Vladan knew this cat-and-mouse game better than any man she had set her eyes on. Despite holding so much power over his head, Vladan knew that without his father’s work, the settlement would fall apart. Phoebe could corner him as much as possible but he was quick to put her back into a position of a powerless woman. 

“I’ve come for you.” She spoke and got to her feet. Vladan tried to get up as well but he was still stuck to the chair. 

“I’ve told you I do not wish to marry you, Miss Speldercast.” The woman smirks.

“Phoebe,” She replied. “We know each other much more personally than for you to be formal. Won’t you say, Vladan?” Phoebe walked around the desk and slid a hand over Vladan’s shoulder before standing behind him and leaning down into his ear.

Vladan tried to move away but he was helpless, Phoebe was amused.

“I’ve wanted you the moment you came into this town and you’ve done nothing but make it clear that you have no interest in me.” She ran her fingers through his hair and Vladan pulled away forcefully, rocking his chair.

“Is it because you have an interest in my sister?” Phoebe slipped her fingers back in his hair, tangling them before pulling his head back. Vladan gasped and glared at her from the corner of his eye. “Little Magdalena, pure and smart, born from the wife of the judge, unlike her sister who was born from the judge’s mistress. Hmm? Is it that? Are you attracted to her purity from a false marriage?” Phoebe threw Vladan’s head and pulled his chair back so she could reach him. She pushed his arms down onto the armrest which rendered him motionless as he tried to get out of her grip. 

“What are you doing to me?!” Vladan yelled and Phoebe quickly shushed him with the tip of her finger. Vladan’s mouth felt heavy and he couldn’t move. Fear rose to his heart and he began to pant as he tried to fight whatever hold Phoebe had him in. 

“She’s a purist you know, she’s the only good thing to ever come from our father. Everyone is born with wickedness and yet my sister is what the bible praises. Father doesn't understand it either. I do. I understand she is the object of your affection.” Phoebe inched closer to Vladan’s face until they were inches apart. He could feel her breath on him and it only made him more enraged. If the force holding him down could break at any moment he would slap her. 

“You wish to fuck it right out of her I know it.” Phoebe grinned and laughed in his face. “You could fuck me just the same and pretend it’s her. We are almost identical if you ignore our eyes.” Phoebe pulled away from Vladan and leaned back against his desk.

“I could give you much more than whatever your father had. I could give you a real status, real power, a real head on your shoulder that would make other people realize your potential.” The woman bit her lip and eyed Vladan up and down, lingering longer on his crotch. 

“Or.” The woman thought for a moment then pulled up her dress and sat on Vladan’s lap. “You crave something worse than an unmarried woman. You crave someone who isn’t even considered a human.” 

Phoebe closed the gap between them, capturing Vladan’s lips in hers. He couldn’t move but the fear in his eyes said it all as the woman began to kiss him again. Her hand ran down his chest and cupped him through his pants. All of his strength went to trying to make his body stop and eventually, he tired himself out. He cursed himself for reacting and shut his eyes to will it away but nature was stronger than his will and Phoebe was well aware of that. 

Vladan kept an eye on the door hoping that Tayonna wasn’t home. His heart sped at the sheer thought of Tayonna finding him like this with Phoebe. He couldn’t bear the idea of his secret love seeing this. He could only hope she was far from the house mending to Luther or in the woods. But that fear came to light as he heard a knock and the door being pushed open. Vladan shut his eyes trying to hide but that wasn’t enough when he heard the sound of plates falling to the floor and footsteps running away.

Phoebe finally pulled away and licked her lips, “You taste better in despair.” She whispered in his ear and Vladan felt his body give way from the force and he quickly pushed the woman off.

Vlad shot up from his bed in pure anger ready to attack whoever was around him. He had to blink a few times to gather he was in his bedroom. He couldn’t remember his dream but knew that whatever it was left a legit bad taste in his mouth, and a brimming anger that could shoot ectoblasts through his walls. He hadn’t felt this angry since…since his bitterness towards Jack. It was an ugly anger that once made Vlad scared of himself. It consumed him, swallowing him whole which caused a brief moment during his mayor career he had to go into hiding. When his anger got out of control it was like a splitting pain that turned into a being that lingered on Vlad’s shoulders. He had given it a face as Plasmius, but that made it even worse when it felt like Plasmius became animalistic. Vlad knew what anger looked like when he hurt Danny, he knew what anger could turn into when he came face to face with Dan. Vlad never wanted to go back there.

Vlad fell back onto his pillows and blinked a few times trying to catch his breath and come back to the living world.

‘What the hell was that?’ Vlad thought, hoping Vladan would answer, but there was silence. He tried to conjure the man but it was fruitless when Vladan kept hidden and silent.

Vlad rolled his head to his nightstand and saw the clock said 10:47 am. He huffed and rolled to his other side towards his large bedroom window. The curtain was drawn but the slip of light that peaked through told him the sun was already high in the sky. He couldn’t stay in bed just because of some dream, that would be ridiculous. With that, he rolled back over and sat up on the edge of the bed. He ran his hands over his face again then through his hair. Just when he thought the roughness of the morning was over he heard yelling coming from the hallways. Vlad shot to his feet and out the door, he heard more yelling and the sound of glass breaking and quickly shot into the air to fly through the house. As he followed the sound of the voice he heard another one begging for forgiveness. 

When Vlad found the source of the yelling he quickly had to dodge as a blast of lighting came flying towards his head. Tayonna was standing in the middle of the kitchen in her ghost form shooting towards the Dairy King who hid behind the island. A few of Vlad’s cabinets had black holes through them and the things behind the covers were broken. A few plates were shattered on the ground and water began to pool from the sink as Tayonna used it to conquer electricity. The kitchen was quickly becoming a battleground and Vlad was rather speechless on what could have caused this. 

Vlad looked between them and then jumped into action to stop the girl from blasting at the other ghost again. He flew towards her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to the ground holding her against him. This made her let out a chilling scream and Vlad had to brace himself so he didn’t let go.

“Tayonna!” Vlad was much stronger than the girl but wrestling first thing in the morning was still a lot. He managed to get her to stop thrashing around and finally, she stopped and glared towards the Dairy King.

“You disgusting little man! She was on her deathbed waiting for you!’ Tayonna yelled. Echo blasts of her voice rippled towards the island. The room shook and the center of the island marble top cracked. 

“That is enough!” Vlad commanded and shook Tayonna. She finally seemed to calm down. She panted and tried to escape Vlad’s grip a few times but settled for her capture. 

The Dairy King peeked from his hiding spot and gave Vlad a pleading look to not let go of his attacker. 

“Let me go!” Tayonna managed to yank her body down which caused Vlad to let go of her wrist. She quickly turned around and slapped him across the face which knocked him backward. He caught himself and held his face. Anger was not the first emotion to run through Vlad’s mind, rather, confusion and shock. He held his face and watched as Tayonna’s whole demeanour changed. The anger in her face shifted to confusion then to utter horror. She was speechless, covering her mouth as she saw the damage she had caused. Vlad could feel her core racing as it flipped between confusion and a sense of loss. Did Tayonna not know what she was doing?

“I… What-I…I didn’t….” Tayonna couldn’t find the words to say. Her mind ran blank until she caught Vlad’s eyes again. Vlad could feel her fear and he held up a hand to show her he was not mad. That was a lie. He was beyond pissed at how much destruction she had caused in a perfectly good kitchen. But for some reason, he couldn’t turn that anger towards her. Maybe it was because he was harbouring another person’s feelings in him, or it was just too fucking early for the bullshit.

Vlad took a deep breath and spoke, “What happened?” It was clear he just wanted answers just as much as he wanted a brand new kitchen. 

“I don’t know,” Tayonna mumbled, still looking terrified, Vlad grumbled.

He turned to the Dairy King who slowly came out of hiding holding his cheese hat in his hand. “What happened?”

“She was cooking and then she just stopped to turn to me and just stared at me. Next thing I knew she was seeing red and attacking me like a wild animal, don’tcha know.” The smaller man kept his distance as he looked between Tayonna and Vlad.

“Did you feel something?” Vlad turned back towards Tayonna, she was still in a state of shock, she nodded and Vlad held his breath knowing it might have been his dream. He must have triggered her core when he woke up in a fit of anger.

“I was fine…then I was just so angry. It was a burning feeling that took over me and I couldn’t stop myself.” Tayonna's eyes pleaded with Vlad to understand. The phantom did and motioned for her to calm down. “ It wasn’t him, I know it wasn’t him.” Tayonna held her chest and turned away from Vlad. He knew that what she felt was purely him and that made him feel a bit of guilt. 

“Well, Dairy King seems like you just showed up at the wrong time. On behalf of Tayonna, I do apologize.” Vlad held out his hand for the ghost to take but the King was hesitant. He slowly took Vlad’s hand when the phantom insisted and shook it reluctantly.

“On behalf of my kitchen, I ask that you all leave so I can have this cleaned up and fixed.” Vlad pointed between the two, Tayonna was the first to leave in a hurry while DK stayed behind. Vlad wanted to stop her and tell her he wasn’t upset and that everything was okay. This was genuine, purely from him, much to his surprise he wanted to apologize for causing such an outburst despite it being triggered by something else. 

“She’s like a match, don’tcha know.” Dairy King floated up next to Vlad and the man rolled his eyes. He turned around and crossed his arms giving the old soul a stern look.

“What happened?” Vlad knew the man was hiding something. Yes, Tayonna may have flipped out but something besides Vlad’s core triggered her.

The Dairy King backed away and shrunk into himself as his demeanour from Vlad told him this was no playing matter. The ghost thought for a moment of what to say before he opened his mouth.

“She looked at me as if she was looking into my core. It was a distant look as if she was seeing something far beyond me.” The King was nervous to speak, Vlad knew that whatever Tayonna saw and what she said went hand in hand with whatever guilt the ghost had. Dairy King avoided Vlad’s eyes as his mouth opened and closed and he caught himself from saying something. Vlad's brow rose and he waited for the short man to continue. The Dairy King huffed and shook his head then flew away. Vlad shut his eyes and gave himself a moment to process everything that happened. When he opened his eyes his annoyance came back with force and he was sure that if he stood in the middle of the kitchen for any longer he was going to snap. He called for the ghost maids, they were just as surprised, told them he needed it cleaned and to call for some ghostly repairman to come and fix anything broken. Vlad knew that no matter what the Ghost Zone was always resourceful. Why pay living people when ghosts who enjoyed the labour would do it for free?

~~~

Working while away from Minnesota was supposed to be easy. He didn’t have to go into his Wisconsin headquarters often and he could work from home and do a few video calls. He could process paperwork, look over comments and concerns with his partnerships, read distasteful emails, and even send out a few personal emails to staff members who slacked off, that was supposed to be the luxury of owning your business and working away from it. That, however, was the furthest thing Vlad had ever dealt with while working from home. It seemed like no matter what, something always needed his attention even in the comfort of his sun room turned office. He had three calls on hold from both headquarters and one from a sponsor who just had too much free time on their hands and wanted to chit chat. An email came through about a stock being low thanks to one of Vlad's distant business partners finally being arrested (which he wasn’t surprised). 

The only good thing that came between the shit show that was that morning and his very busy work time was a phone call he had been waiting for.

“Masters,” Vlad answered in a breathless huff as he fell back into his plush armchair.

“Jackson has travel fever, poor man,” Kate said in a very monotone voice.

“He has you to blame.” Vlad retorted.

“He has you to pay for it.” Vlad chuckled and he could tell Kate got a kick from him doing so.

“Report?” Vlad sat up and moved his computer mouse, he was in the middle of finishing emails but that could now wait. He closed down his work email and opened his personal one. Packer green and slices of cheese, such an old man theme. 

“We’re heading home finally, Germany is beautiful but Jackson is clearly American and everyone could tell. Had to save him from shitting himself when a woman threatened to bench press him, he’s so skinny, you need to feed him you monster.” Kate pulled the phone away from her face and said something then came back to the phone.

“Anything actually important?” Vlad secretly missed Kate’s nonchalant behaviour and way of speaking. He knew it was because she didn’t care that he had status, nor did she care he was twice labelled the sexiest politician in Minnesota and Wisconsin.

“Phoebe Speldercast was the second daughter of John Humphrey Speldercast. She was known within her town as the ‘autumn omen gift from God’ before being later tried and convicted due to a connection with witchcraft. She was killed by the method of burning which was said to leave the town covered in a black fog for many months through the winter. She was survived by only one member of her family, her twin sister Magdalena.” Vlad could only hum. If that was all Kate could find then he was once again at a dead end. 

“However,” Kate started again.

“However? You sure do like ‘however’.” Vlad jokes.

“The archives that are in New York show that she may still have living relatives within the state. In the 80s someone had a few family heirlooms documented and placed in a local museum about the settlement years and Phoebe’s portrait is said to be hanging up there. I’ll send over a picture.”

Vlad perked up and leaned into his computer waiting for the email to come through. If he could see what this woman looked like then maybe he could get a start in finding out the truth.

“Our plane is about to take off, I’ll talk to you later, Sir.” Kate didn’t wait for Vlad to respond before hanging up. Vlad didn’t care and placed his phone down. The email finally came through and just as he was about to click it his ghost sense went off and it felt like someone was threading closer than they should. Vlad turned around to look out the windows of the sunroom and saw Tayonna walking about the backyard. He shrugged and turned back to his computer. If was only Tayonna so it wasn’t that big a deal.

‘Go out there, something is wrong,’ Vladan spoke in his mind.

‘Yeah my kitchen.’ Vlad snarled and rolled his eyes.

‘Someone is watching her.’ Vlad stopped and thought for a moment. No one should be anywhere near his manor. The lawn people wouldn't come until next week, his mailman knew better than to snoop, and his neighbours were too far to be casually walking by. It was also a red flag when the back of Vlad’s manor faced the woods. Vlad turned back around and Saw Tayonna walking farther into the backyard then taking a seat in the middle of the glass area. He looked around trying to see if anything was out of place but it all seemed like a normal sunny day.

‘Go out there’

‘No’

‘ Go. Out. There ’

‘I said no, she is fine, no one would be here besides us.’

Vlad didn’t have to see his reflection to know Vladan was glaring holes into him. He also didn’t need to hear the man’s voice to know he was not in the spirit's good grace. Vlad rolled his shoulder when he felt a slight pain shooting up his back. He needed to focus on his task at hand which was opening Kate’s email. He went to grab his mouse but felt someone crawl into his palm. He looked down and saw Vladan’s red mist form into a hand and curl its fingers into his to hold it. Vlad tried to shake it but he was too late as his hand was flipped over and his consciousness was sucked inward. He felt like he was being pulled out of his body and placed in a dark void as he looked out his eyes like they were windows. Vlad had only a moment to figure out what was going on till he realized Vladan was possessing him. Vlad had only been possessed a handful of times in the past and it was the most uncomfortable feeling. Vlad watched as his vision shifted toward the window to the yard again and the reflection he saw was Vladan’s. 

Vlad tried to regain his power and he saw it was effective when Vladan clenched the body’s head and blinked a few times. Vladan looked back to his reflection and glared, Vlad knew that was towards him and he tried again to gain his body back. Vladan didn’t wait to see what would happen as he quickly looked around and found the door handle. Vlad could feel his body moving and it felt so foreign and uncomfortable. No wonder Danny complained so much. Vladan walked out the door onto the back patio and began walking towards Tayonna.

‘You know she isn’t going to be happy to see you!’ Vlad yelled through his mind and that made Vladan stop in his tracks just before he got to the steps to walk down to the grass. Vladan looked down at the body’s hands, he clenched them into fists, Vlad couldn’t hear Vladan but he could feel in his core the man was conflicted. Vladan knew he was right but he wanted to comfort his love. Vlad knew that was a terrible idea and who knew how Tayonna would react if she saw Vladan taking over Vlad's body. Vlad knew Vladan didn’t know how to use his powers let alone defend himself against a very angry ghost. So while Vladan was stuck thinking over what to do Vlad pushed his consciousness forward and gained control of his body. It felt like breaking through water after being submerged, Vlad took a deep breath and held his chest while hunched over. His nerves tingle from his toes to the top of his head, knocking someone else out of power always leaves a person drained.

Vlad shook his limbs out and stretched, he told Vladan to never do that again or he was going to grab an old device and rip the man out of him. Honestly, he should have done that sooner but the thought had just crossed his mind. 

Tayonna turned around when she felt someone around her. She snapped around and that made Vlad flinch and awkwardly wave. She ignored him and turned back around, focusing on something on the ground in front of her. Vlad tsked at how rude that was but complied with Vladan’s request and went to see what the girl was doing. If Vladan now could take over, Vlad was not going to allow the man to be willy nilly. The last thing he wanted to do was have Vladan go to work for him if he was in the middle of a meeting. Maybe ripping him out of him wasn’t a bad idea. 

Vlad put his hands behind his back and walked up to Tayonna, when he was right beside her he saw she was plucking up blades of grass and crumbling them in her hands. He wanted to tell her that the money he spent keeping the place pretty wasn’t just shits and giggles, but he was distracted when he saw her hands glow and the grass turn into the roses he saw before.

“What are those?” Vlad asked. She didn’t seem to be in any trouble as Vladan had put it. Vlad looked around and everything seemed normal, surely if someone had been there he would have known.

“Green Whispers.” Tayonna held up the flower and pulled at its pedals before crumbling it back into her hands. Her hand glew again and when she opened it the flower turned to dust and she blew it away.

“Can you conjure them whenever you want?” Vlad asked. He fought with himself about sitting on the grass while in dress pants but quickly sucked it up. He was already here. He got down on a knee and then plopped down, Tayonna looked at him from the corner of her eye and scooted away. 

“Yes.”

“Do they heal you?”

“Yes.” 

“Is that why you made them when you got hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Are they related to Blood Blossoms?”

“To what?”

“Can you eat them?”

“Yes but-”

“Are they safe for the living and the dead?”

“Yes but why-”

“Can any ghost conjure them?”

Tayonna huffed from the questions and Vlad couldn’t help himself to laugh. That caught the girl off guard and she turned fully towards him with another flower in her hand. She grabbed his hand and shoved the flower into his palm and curled his fingers around it. Vlad felt the surge of power run through him and he felt much better than before.

“Stop asking so many questions.” Tayonna narrowed her eyes and Vlad smirked, he took the hint to stop, and she turned away from him again and went back to plucking at the grass. Vlad was silent for a bit, the sun was high and the day was nice. The sky was clear with a few pure white clouds rolling past, a slight breeze blew rustling the trees and the birds sang without a care in the world. Just another reason why Vlad loved coming back to his manor when the Spring rolled in. For a moment he forgot about why he came out here as he hung his head back and enjoyed the rays against his skin. It was peaceful and cleared his mind. He should have done this more often. 

“I used to feed them to his brother to keep him alive.” Tayonna was the first to break the silence. Vlad cracked open an eye and hummed to let her know he heard her. “I was destined to be a priestess before I was taken away from my home. Luther bought me and became my only friend for a while. He was dying and I knew how much he meant to him and I kept Luther alive as long as possible. When Luther learned it was my doing he asked me to stop, he wanted to die, he couldn’t watch his family suffer because of him he would say.” Tayonna rolled the grass in her hands and then threw it. Vlad sat up straight and leaned into the conversation. 

“Vladan…” Tayonna took a deep breath, she hadn't said his name in a while. “Was so heartbroken over his father’s passing that I thought if I kept Luther alive just a bit longer he would have more time to grieve one loss before the next.”

“Did it work?” Vlad asked, he felt Tayonna’s core pulse.

“Luther stopped eating the flowers, he found out I was putting them in his food and he starved himself. He didn’t do it to be malicious, he just wanted his brother to let go of him. Luther loved Vladan more than anything.” Tayonna curled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. Vlad looked down at the flower in his hand and rolled it around a few times before bringing it up to his nose. It smelled sweeter than anything he had ever smelled before and he couldn’t help but take a bite of it. As soon as it hit his taste buds he quickly began to spit it out. Tayonna heard him and looked over to see Vlad trying to get the pedals out of his mouth. She looked horrified but also amused. Vlad didn’t know what to say and that was enough for the girl to bust into laughter.

“Did you seriously just try to eat the flower raw?” Tayonna covered her smile behind her hand and Vlad blushed wildly. He threw the flower down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You made it sound appealing, I thought since it was ghostly it would be different. Like the taste of ectoplasm, you would think it tastes like something sour and nasty but it’s actually like a flavorless jelly with a hint of…” Vlad began to blush more. “Why am I telling you this!?” Tayonna laughed harder and Vlad could not keep his embarrassment steady as he finally caved in and began to laugh as well. When they finally calmed down they looked at each other and Vlad felt his heart slow. She really was beautiful when she smiled. He quickly shoved that down and gave her a gentle smile.

“So,” Vlad began. “Was Luther fond of you just as much as his brother?”

“If you mean in the way of courting, no.” Tayonna shook her head. “He was simply a friend. A very annoying witty silver tongue fool who had the biggest heart of them all. He was my friend.” Tayonna's brows knotted, and then she looked back towards Vlad with her mouth open. Vlad was confused until the girl brought a hand up to her head.

“I remember.” She seemed so happy to remember something from her life and Vlad couldn’t help but feel happy for her as well.

“Can you recall anything else?” Vlad felt a sense of hope from both of them. Tayonna closed her eyes and thought for a moment then turned back to Vlad. She slowly opened her eyes and then looked away. Vlad couldn’t read her expression but he knew she was calm.

“I remember Luther wanted us to stay together.” Tayonna sighed and Vlad felt his core begin to burn then slowly turn cold as sadness filled his heart. His body ran faster than his mind and before he could control himself he had reached out and took the girl’s hand in his and held it tight. Tayonna looked down and then at him and Vlad bit his lip and looked towards her. This was genuine, they both knew that, Vlad knew what that form of sadness was like and he couldn’t allow the girl to wallow in front of him.

“You’re holding my hand again,” Tayonna whispered.

“I know.” Vlad held her eyes with his. It was like an intense pull that he didn’t want to pull away, he felt like he was dealing with his own hurt emotions when he spoke to Tayonna. It was slightly addicting. All the emotions of loneliness and sadness Vlad felt about, Tayonna had expressed since they met. Vlad felt like the comfort he was extending to Tayonna also reflected the comfort he likely needed years ago. Vlad knew heartbreak, Vlad knew loneliness, he knew abandonment, what being lost and having to find your way, and he knew what being bitter felt like. Tayonna wasn’t bitter but she was everything else.

Having Tayonna around was like having an embodiment of emotions that Vlad needed to fix. Is This what Vladan meant? Tayonna could help him because he was going to help her, which in turn meant helping himself.

Vlad felt like that was farfetched, beyond him, yes, he was trying to be a better person and turn his life around but to fix something he had shoved down deep into his heart was messy. But looking at Tayonna made him want to fix her pain beyond just trying to put her to rest. They inched closer, never breaking eye contact. They were mere inches apart when the sound of a branch breaking pulled them away from each other. Tayonna’s eyes grew wide and she pulled her hand away, Vlad blushed and cleared his throat. They almost kissed and both of them knew that was a terrible idea. 

Vlad quickly got to his feet and brushed off his pants as best he could. He looked towards the sound and saw a deer coming out from the woods. Seems that nature had its way of butting in at just the right time. 

He cleared his throat again and held out a hand for Tayonna.

“Well, it seems it’s time to go in.” Vlad did his best to not seem flustered and offered a small smile. Tayonna saw the deer and then looked up to Vlad before taking his hand. Once up she pulled away again and Vlad felt a small ounce of hurt from it. He didn’t wish to dwell on it further and turned back to the house. Tayonna looked at the animal, something about it made her tense. Vlad felt his core pull when he made it to the door and he groaned and turned to look at the girl. 

Tayonna tilted her head and the animal followed, when she tilted the other way it did it again. Tayonna knew something about the deer was off but couldn’t figure it out. It looked like a deer, it moved like a deer, but even then that didn’t mean a duck was a duck. She felt locked in a trance with the deer and she couldn’t pull away. Tayonna took a step forward, she wanted to run towards the deer, she didn’t know what she would do but it wouldn’t be good. A feeling of danger and anger crept forward and Tayonna gripped at her dress. Her hands began to heat up as her powers came to life and lighting sparked and popped from her fist. 

“Tayonna?” Vlad called and that broke her from her trance. Tayonna blinked a few times then turned around and hurried to Vlad. Vlad could tell the girl was uneasy but he wasn’t sure if it was because of him. He didn’t feel a shift in emotions or even his core. He didn’t have to ask if she was okay as the girl just nodded towards him and rushed past him to get into the sunroom. Vlad kept an eye on the deer for a moment before brushing it off and closing the door behind both of them.

When the couple was gone the deer peered at the house and then began to slowly melt into a pool of green blob. From the blob, a shapeless figure rose and glared with burning red eyes.

[mybeingthere]

Gary Bunt paints a man and  his best friend who are together, keeping friendship in the English countryside. Touching and a little sad. 

Gary Bunt’s journey has been an unconventional one. Born into a working-class Kentish family, he always loved painting and poetry but was obliged by circumstance to seek a less creative living. “At 16 you had to get a job and bring home some housekeeping,” says Gary from his home in Rotherfield. 

“That was the way I was brought up, and further education would have been considered an extreme luxury.”Instead, while pursuing a career in the building trade, he opted for private study, with particular focus on some of the great 20th century British painters: Christopher Wood, the Nicholsons, Stanley Spencer. He taught himself to paint in an impressionist tonal style, always fitting it in around his work commitments until in 1999 Gary went home to his wife and told her he wanted to make a go of the painting. All was going well until, in the same week as his first solo show, he was diagnosed with cancer and was seriously ill for 18 months. 

“I sailed pretty close to the wind and I was reminiscing, thinking about my childhood, my children and my marriage. As soon as I could paint again, it was those things I started to paint,” he says. Remarkably, his style changed entirely, settling on the naïve rural whimsy now so beloved of collectors.“My work is based around what I would call typical British country life and it has all evolved around things I grew up with and still love to this day,” says Gary. 

“The village I live in, Rotherfield, is almost like going back in time 30 years. There’s still a really lovely sense of village life. I try to impart that feeling with the paintings.” The old man depicted in Gary’s paintings is, he says, an avatar for himself and his father, but many see in him their own loved ones. “People are reminiscing about their own lives through my paintings. I think a lot of people find them a form of escapism. I have seen people walk around my exhibitions and laugh at a painting, and then cry at the next one. It seems they are going on an emotional journey, and that really moves me. I think that’s why the paintings have had the success they’ve had.”

https://www.artnet.com/artists/gary-bunt/sussexlife.co.uk

[raven-ette]

Going Dark ( DaminetteDarkRomance )

includes violence, graphic topics, strong language, and mature scenes

Prevous Next Wattpad

5 Years Later 

M A R I 

The life of an American seemed a lot more luxurious than the one I thought I would live. People here weren't as happy and outgoing as I was used to back home in Europe. But I would deal with it if it meant not going back home until Christmas came. Even then I tried to always get away with it year in and out.  

Chole was a good company to have by my side, we have made a lot of progress regarding the Miraculous Chain of Heroes. Two years after the fall of Pairs' greatest villain and a lot more free time on our hands than we were used to, Chole had the greatest idea ever. The creation of the Miraculous Chain of Heroes or MCH. A chain of miraculous heroes that we could trust that would bring good to the world not just Paris. That way we could help a lot more than ever before. 

We spent months in and out scavenging desired people capable of this role. Using and mastering the reading of our senses, a power true miraculous holders were able to have. The fates of magic guided us in decisions in order to make a difference, therefore, choosing who was a perfect fit of a miraculous and who was not, as well as what miraculous. It was a tricky thing to master and only a few were able to obtain parts of that power sense. 

We have been able to collect a few promising holders throughout the years, making great progress in helping crime rates be lowered. As of yet none of the newer members are able to keep their miraculous through the night yet. Chole and I decided that they would hand their miraculous over as soon as they were done using it. We agree that we didn't want another Felix chaos to repeat. Therefore any new members had to go through a multitude of things to prove capable of keeping their miraculous safe and not having any ill intentions. Such as training in the temple and stepping up when they were needed.

Only the original miraculous holders are able to keep theirs like Chole, Sabrina, Luka, Nino, Alya, and so on. A lot of them withdrew their miraculous after the defeat of Hawk Moth but some of them also contained. Kagami, Rose, and Luka are only partly in it and the only ones returning their miraculous from the group. They still want to help when they are needed but don't want to keep it to just doing that. 

Alya and Nino handled most of the France and European area at the moment. They didn't want to move across the country with Chole and me. They ended up just leading the charge on the MCH there. We handled the American side and Sabrina handled a few other further away parts of the world with Max and some others. Everyone was in charge of their reign and team, making the process a lot more smoothly than Chole and I thought. No complaints on our part.

"hhehhe...ooooh he's hot," Chole said as we sat sprawled across our over-the-top penthouse apartment living room that Chole's dad had insisted on buying us in new york city. It was technically a miraculous living space. 

Throughout the years her dad and a few other people have invested greatly into the MCH. Her dad is one of the top, providing most of the living spaces throughout the world for the teams who got paid too little in their real life to afford to switch places every so often and go to hotel rooms most nights. Chole and I provide the rest with my fashion company. 

She decided to take business in college instead and helped me create a my fashion company. I handle the making and designs and she handles the advertisement and everything else. Right now we are sitting on one of the top fashion companies in the world with over half the world paying no less than 1,000 thousand for my designs. The MDC brand is one of the biggest investments in MCH. 

Right now Chole and I were by ourselves in new york city again. We had just moved back after staying in California for over five months investigating some suspension black market activities. The order thinks an old and powerful miraculous has been activated recently, which has been lost and hidden away far longer than they have been alive. 

They at first thought it was nothing but after I felt it through the connection of the miraculous as a holder and guardian they were sure of it. They said this certain miraculous was already powerful in itself but since it hasn't had the protection and safety of its box or used it could have become really unstable. Meaning if someone used it, they could be consumed by the power and distribution and chaos could come.

We got a lead in California, that it was spotted being sold in the black market. We tried to get it back or find anything of it. But after five, almost six months nothing happened and the lead completely disappeared. We thought we would take a break and head back home to new york for a while before picking up more about or any missions for that matter. Searching for a lost Miraclous was a lot of work, our brain power was almost entirely used up by it. 

That's why we decide to spend it binch watching Marvel movies. Ironic right? We had just started watching Captain American and the Winter Soldier and Chole and I couldn't stop fangirling over Bucky and how hot he is. 

"I'm usually into blonds but burettes aren't a bad idea, he does look insanely good," I said through a mouthful of popcorn. We were laying around with a mess of blankets and a much of takeout food, snacks, and drinks. We had almost completely drunk all of the expired red wine that was left from the last time we brought for a girl's night with all the other girls. Now with only us and the most intemperateness when it comes to alcohol,  it was bound to end up with 5 empty bottles.

"No wonder he had all the girls all over him in the 80s. That over guy has nothing on him" Chole said from her positing laying down with her head on my stomach and her legs and body curled up beside me. 

I was in a sitting position with my back against the couch and a pillow in the middle. Didn't want to end up with back pain after this. Chole had the majority of the blanket but made sure to cover at least half of my lower body along with hers. 

"You mean Captain American? he seems nice" 

"Nice and boring, you mean. dark haired guys are always so much more fun to be around, dangerous and mysterious but fun" 

"Oh, and you would know because you dated a certain dark-haired guy right? Who dyed his hair on a dare in collège et lycèe" I said in a teasing tone knowing how she got when I mentioned her one and true love, Luka Couffaine. She and Luka had a thing for a while in high school and a bit in college as well but then separated when they got too busy. Now they are just plain awkward since they also didn't really end things on a good note. 

When Chole gets upset about something she cares about a lot, she gets passionate. Her passion means anger and hatred sometimes. She explodes and there is no stopping her from saying anything and everything that first comes into her mind. She cared for Luka a lot and didn't want to break up, ever. I could go as far as to say she loved him but she would kill me for that. 

During their last year and two in college, things weren't going too well for them. Luka changed, he still was the nice and sincere guy I meet in middle school and sort of liked but he changed. He started his own band and created a name for himself and his music. Outside the band, he was already a part of since middle school. After that, he started hanging out with some bad people and was influenced and when he moved to LA she was heartbroken. 

They had fought before but never like that night. He was drunk, on the verge of passing out even. He was mad that she didn't want him to leave but she wasn't mad about that. She was mad he was doing it for the wrong reasons and wasn't even finishing his decree in teaching that he has always wanted to do as well. Not only that but letting himself go just to be liked by a much of guys who were building up hope in him. They were not good people and although they were helping him, it wasn't the type of promotion or advertisement he needed for himself or music. 

They fought for a couple of hours, both saying things they didn't want to say. Chole saying some colorful things because he was making her mad to the point that she would have knocked him out herself if Alya and I weren't there to stop her. She can get really violent when she cared about someone. And she cared for him and she was trying to help him, making him understand he was making a horrible decision and he would regret it. 

All of us tried really but no one was as passionate to make him retreat his answer then she was. She tried until the very last minute to make him change his mind on moving with a group of asswhole guys he hasn't even known for more than two months. Nino Max ended up having to drag him to his room since he was basically saying more than he could talk, saying nonsense. Before he left Chole smacked him in his head as hard as she could when he left for the airport the next morning, with the hangover he had that sure did not help. 

"Oh my god don't remind me. My blood still boils every time I see that guy. Can't even believe he let them bleach all of his hair just because it would bring more attention to his music. He has always loved his dark blue hair"

"Such a shame too, I always loved his hair in high school. Thought it was so cool that someone's hair was like that" 

"Yea I'm pretty sure if it wasn't for his hair, I wouldn't even have agreed on that stupid date he asked me on after your birthday" 

"oh please, you would have melted either way. when he wrote that song about the blond ice queen I knew he was talking about you, even before he confessed to writing it about you" 

"What no way" 

"He was always looking at you in the halls and in class. I had to tutor him because he kept staring at you all throughout the class. He was so excited when I told him I would introduce you to him" I said in a smug teasing look towards her. 

"Okay, shut up and let me watch hot winter soldier Bucky" She rolled her eyes. 

Buzz...Buzz

I looked towards my phone and saw the alert on my phone. Max installed a miraculous alert app for everyone. So we could communicate and pass on important messages instead. It was also connected to the mainframe which was in the temple. Everything in there has been insanely upgraded with tech and everything. Usually, Max would stay there to teach most of the week to the order and other members the way of the modern world, including how to send messages and alert through the main computer to us.  

We got alerts instantly when someone happens. Depending on how dangerous and serious it was a different color would appear on our screens. Then if it was just a message that anyone was needed at the temple or somewhere like backup it flashed a red. which was what it flashed as soon as the two-second Buzz of a message from the temple cleared. That would have to wait.

"Pollen" 

"Tikki" 

One look at each other and we both called out to our Kwami. They were probably somewhere napping after the buffet they had of our takeout over four hours ago. We started our bench watching at 12 this morning and now it was two in the morning.

"Guess well having to finish watching his hunkiness when we come back from whatever Sabrina and Max need" I giggled as she scrunched her eyes and gave me a pout of dislike. 

"Can't they just call someone else on call? We're basically drunken idiots right now and I can't feel my legs from all the hours we have been sitting down watching movies. Call on Alya and Nino or something" she begged.

"We are on call. Alya and Nino have a date night today and everyone else can't make it." 

"Call on the stupid decisions then, he barely helps out anymore."

"Although I would love to do that, he's way too far from Sabrina's location and I'm the only one that has the horse Miraculous. Now stop whining you can finish it when we get back. " 

She didn't stop pouting but got up nonetheless. By then all of the miraculous in my position and Pollen came into the living room. Millions of tiny creatures were staring at us, wondering what was going on. 

"Pollen, Kaalki, plag. Let's go they need us" forgot to mention another thing. Tikki and have retired, at least for now. With a new change, I thought I need to change in miraculous and since I am apparently a fluid soul I can handle any miraculous since any goes in sync with my soul. Adrien used to have Plagg and he seemed depressed without a holder we already work great together so I thought I would choose him for a while. Tikki was fine stepping back for a while and sharing her holder, she knew I still loved her. Nonetheless, she also knew it was helping me heal a bit being with Plag and him as well. 

"So do we transform right now or...." I gave her a roll of my eyes. She knew what my answer was.

"Just checking." 

"Pollen, Buzz out!" 

"Plag, Claws out!" 

After that, I grabbed the horse miraculously and transfused the two before opening a portal to Sabrina and preparing for anything they would need of help at the moment right now. 

Before I left I check glanced at the message from the temple I got sent before. It was completely capitalized letters which made me figure out it wasn't a computer system automated message but from someone from the temple. The words that read were what made my heart partly race. 

LEAGUE OF SHADOWS AT TEMPLE< STARTING ATTACK SOON

______

Will be having an updating schedule of two times per week. Tuesdays and Thursdays. I might also update over the weekend on Saturday if I don't have too much to do and have time to write, but for now, it will mostly just be Thursdays and Tuesdays that I publish this story.

Also if you want to check out my Wattpad, I publish my stories there before here. I don't have too many books published on there yet but I'm planning on writing more and updating more of my other books as well when I can and have the inspiration to do so, in case anyone wants to check them out as well.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

[newhologram]

10 whole years ago, Cleo died and my world came crashing down. My mental and physical health tanked, with 6 new diagnoses within a year. I dropped out of acting class, and auditions and set work came to a screeching halt for a while. For years, it took me hours each day to get out of bed. I had to navigate disability and illness in young adulthood alone, with those closest to me telling me what a burden I was because I was too sick to work full time and move out. So I forced myself to work multiple jobs even when I was in and out of the ER and constant appointments (like I still am today) when I really should've been resting and taking care of my body. I was in constant burn-out, throwing up in secret at work, because the feeling of shame and being a useless loser being put upon me was so great, I felt like if I didn't "earn" being alive, that I shouldn't be alive at all. I felt completely worthless.

I almost didn’t survive the past 10 years. But I did, and I don’t think any of it made me “stronger." But it did teach me a lot that I'm glad I can use to help others. I'm proud of how far I've come and I like the person I've become. But I don't think suffering in isolation like that or enduring abuse is necessary to make us strong; we should be there for each other, not turning away from another's suffering out of discomfort (that's selective empathy and it kills). This path was like being put through a spiritual meat grinder and it forced me to make a lot of “cuts” to who is allowed access to me. It showed me what my family really thinks of me and which friends were real friends. 4 years ago, on the 6th anniversary of Cleo's death, I brought Ashley and Maxwell home. It was a beautiful way to bring things full circle and that feeling is even stronger now. It's hard to reconcile that 10 years went by because I couldn't see myself living past my 20's in this same sort of situation: at home, disabled, too sick to follow my dreams. I feel like a ghost, or a misplaced collection of memories put into a body and a life that I can't always identify with. Especially after last year, with over a hundred appointments, so many tests, and being monitored for multiple different kinds of cancer while on ketamine therapy... That was a new sort of trauma that has given me a strange mixed sense of numbness and freedom. Somehow I've come back around to a piece of myself that was lost in trying to be "something" or "not a waste/burden" 10 years ago, when this started. Now I can just be. There will always be more that I want to do with myself in this world, dreams that I want to make real, creative ambitions to fulfill. There is so much medical care I need but can't access in this broken country. For me, there will always be depressive or CPTSD relapses to recover from, agonizing chronic illness flare-ups to manage, new medications to try. But ultimately, happiness is simple. It's sitting here on a rainy morning with Maxwell asleep next to me and Ashley running around with her favorite toy. It's taking a nap after editing videos or enduring stressful doctor appointments. It's long baths to help with the pain and playing video games after. The only thing to do is to live. There is no "wasting" when you're having fun, even with these apparent "little things." I'm grateful to Cleo for her love, and for the things I learned losing her as well as losing Opie and Jeremy. I'm grateful to Blue, Ashley, and Maxwell for teaching me again, or maybe for the first time, the simple contentedness of just being alive.

[inkedmyths]

[[So I just woke up from a Fucked Up Dream and I just. Yeah. Not 100% accurate to what I dreamed, mostly bc I'm already forgetting some details]]

Statement of Inked Myths, regarding the passing of an ill relative. Statement given June 18, 2023. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

---

Statement begins.

-

I wasn't supposed to be home.

That's the thing I keep coming back to. I wasn't supposed to be home at the time. If I hadn't been home, my mom would be dead. Maybe the rest of us would be dead too. I don't—

...I don't think I want to think about that.

Anyways. I guess I should start off with the background, first, right. You have to understand that first.

I live with my family. Well, my mom's side of the family. Sometimes I think it makes me a disappointment, you know. Twenty year old still living in the house. I try not to dwell on it, though. Did you know the whole "move out right at 18" thing only really became a thing in the 1950's? Same with the nuclear family model. It was a couple of decades worth of a fluke, a country wealthy enough that you could do that. Now, it's so damn difficult to make a living wage, and people still expect you to move out—

Er. Sorry. Back on topic.

So, yeah, I live with my family. It's me, my mom, my grandmother, grandfather, and...

...And my great grandpa. Or, was.

That last one, um. That's why I'm here today.

My great grandfather had been ill for a long time. So's my grandfather, but Grandpy was worse off. It's just, life, you know? He was so old, and you rarely get that old and stay in good health. So he just kind of sat around most days, sitting in his chair, watching television or reading or whatever it was he did to pass the time.

I– God. I feel. I feel so bad, you know? I barely know what he even liked. I just... like he was always just kind of there, in the background, and I never... never really talked with him. I had my life and it was going too fast to stop and just. Just talk. God, who knows how long that— that thing—

Right. Getting ahead of myself.

Point is, he was sick, and had been for a long time. We took care of him, as best we could. Not really qualified, since none of us are really caretakers, but. Well. Homes cost money, and the best one we could find was so far away, so. We did our best.

...He used to talk. Just, a lot. To anyone who happened to pass by his chair. Just, about anything. What he was watching, recent news, reminiscing about times gone by. Sometimes it was just nonsense. He just liked talking. My grandmother always said to try and listen to him, if just for a little bit. That he just wanted some comoany for a while. I was never— never the greatest, at sitting and listening. Just. Don't like sitting still, and it tended to be boring, and. God, I feel like an asshole. But I mean. We all tried.

It should have been a huge red flag, when he stopped talking one day.

I think... I think we all assumed it was a sign of his health taking another bad turn. That happens. One day they can chatter your ears off, the next they can't. Perfectly natural.

Life went on, but it was. Unnerving. He'd always been talkative. Always. And he stopped watching his television, so it was always silent down there now. It freaked me out, so I avoided the downstairs even more than I already did.

I wasn't supposed to be home, that day.

Last week, I'd gone to school, you know, as normal, but. God. Have you ever had a feeling of dread so, so awful, you feel actually sick? I thought my unease would go away, but it just. It stayed, evolved, and I just couldn't shake that gut-wrenching feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Mom was off early, so I called, and had her pick me up. Not that home felt much better but, god, I didn't want to sit through fucking pre-calc while I felt like this. I figured it was just a particularly nasty bout of anxiety. I don't usually get, like, the whole shaking and crying and having a hard time breathing panic attacks, but I do get, like. Deep bouts of anxiety where I can't eat and feel really jittery.

Mom picked me up, asked if I was ok. I just kind of, shrugged, said the anxiety was bad today. She nodded. Her phone went off. My great grandfather was calling. Mom groaned, and ignored it.

He'd been calling all day, she said. Asking when she'd be home. Over, and over. When would she be home?

In hindsight this is. God. I wasn't supposed to be home. He— no, it. It didn't plan for me being there.

So, we got home, and went up to our rooms, like we always do. I sat down for a while, tried to take comfort in more familiar, quieter surroundings, but couldn't. That feeling of dread just felt like it was growing, and growing, and.

You know, I just read the other day that it's a symptom of a heart attack. This overwhelming feeling of dread. That it's your body knowing something is really, really wrong, without being able to tell it to you specifically. I've never had a heart attack, but I imagine that feeling is probably not to far off from what I was feeling then.

I decided to go down and grab a snack. Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly jittery, it's just because I haven't eaten enough. So, I got up, and stopped by mom's room, asked her if she wanted something, and she said she'd be down in a second.

I turned away, walked to the top of the stairs and.

And was face to face with my great grandfather.

He was standing. He was on the stairs. He he hadn't— he hadn't been able to walk unassisted in— in years! He was standing on his own, walking up the stairs, in a way I'd never seen him do! It looked wrong. Like the slightest breeze should knock him over, like he should be shaking from the effort of standing. But he stood, like it was normal, though it was anything but.

The dread turned into terror when my eyes met— met it's. Because in that moment I knew that this? This was not my great grandfather. It was something else. Something pretending to be him. Empty eyes stared back at me, devoid of that little twinkle he'd always had, no matter what he was talking about. They were just... just empty, like glass.

I didn't even have time to scream. He— it lunged at me, grabbed me, and.

You know that thing in dreams, where you can't move or scream? Where you like, try to scream, but nothing comes out?

It is so, so much worse when it happens in real life.

I struggled, tried to break away, trying to scream. I couldn't. I could barely move, the moment it grabbed me. It was like it was... draining, me. Of my strength, my life even. I couldn't— I couldn't fight back. I fell backwards, wheezing, desperately trying to free myself, to scream, to hit something and make a noise. It's grip moved towards my throat, and there was nothing I could do.

I don't know if my struggle managed to make enough noise, or if my mom had just arbitrarily decided that was when she was going to get up and go join me downstairs. Or maybe she, too, had felt the same dread I had, and couldn't stand it anymore.

She walked out of her room to my struggle for my life.

I don't really remember exactly. I just know she knocked it off of me, and we both ended up downstairs.

And I know it lunged for her, next.

Free from its weird, freezing grasp, I ran. Fight or flight, and for maybe the first time in my life, I was choosing fight. I'm not a strong person, but, but that was my mom, she was in danger, and so was I, and. I ran into the kitchen, and grabbed a knife. Cliche, maybe, but what else was I supposed to do.

I ran back, to where it now had my mom in that same, awful grip. She was frozen, like I had been, unable to do more than try and not fall over, unable to shake it off as its cold, thin fingers dug into her arms.

But all its attention was focused on her. Maybe it thought I had run away completely. It's back was to me, and I had an opening.

I've never, in my life, killed anything more than a bug. Never gone hunting, never slaughtered a pig or whatever. Never really had the stomach for it.

I took the knife I grabbed, and without hesitation, plunged it into that thing's back. It plunged deep, like through sponge, a streak of blood spurting out. I guess it didn't have much substance. It just kind of... shuddered, squirmed a bit around the knife, and then it just... went still.

I didn't expect it to be that easy. Maybe it wasn't built to be stabbed, or whatever. With an ability to render someone imobile with a touch, other physical defenses aren't a priority I suppose.

My mother and I stood in silence. Then, realizing how this looked, I set about cleaning up. Not really, I mean, I was in shock, but I got the body out of the front entryway. Dragged it outside, back behind the house. I knew we had to properly dispose of it or something, but didn't know what else to do about it, for now.

Then me and my mom just kind of. Sat there, for a moment. And she said, "I should have known. He just kept calling, and calling, asking when I'd be home."

I wasn't supposed to be home. It had been planning on going after my mom, and wasn't expecting me. That had probably saved our lives.

The rest of my family came home, along with my uncle and his family. They'd been talking, apparently, about how something was wrong with my great grandfather, how he'd just stopped talking and they needed to figure out what was wrong.

Mom and I exchanged a look.

I don't know what she told them. I'd had enough for the day. I wandered back up to my room, closed the door, and collected myself.

I... I don't remember when exactly he'd stopped talking. That must have been it, right? When he'd been... been replaced? How long had it been? How long had we had that thing in our house, biding its time and waiting to kill us?

It's gone now. My uncle burned what was left of it. We haven't talked about it since.

I'm not sure I'll ever feel safe in my home again.

-

Statement ends.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone just walked in here and confessed to murdering their ailing relative in the midst of some kind of fit. I debated calling the police on this matter, but decided against it. I have some doubts as to whether or not it would be taken seriously, or, given our Institute's reputation, if it would be passed off as not enough evidence, if not outright a prank.

It does fit with the running theme of doppelgangers that I've noticed in several statements. I'm not sure if that lends it more or less credit.

There is... another reason, I did not call the police on this. I had Sasha do some digging on the family, to try and figure out which members were referred to, particularly this "great grandfather". As it turns out, the man in question was recorded as having passed peacefully in his sleep... 16 years before this statement was given.

Statement ends.