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immabethehero · 1 year

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A Jolly Holiday (WDTAJN - Song)

Finally have them all done! Here’s my last entry for @wdtajn! The song? Jolly Holiday from Mary Poppins!

(So a bit of context: I made a boyfriend for Bruno. His name is Matias, he’s an inventor who showed up in the Encanto after the events of the movie. His inventions are unpredictable, to say the least. They don’t always work and often end with an explosion. Think Dr. Doofenshmirtz, but if his parents were actually supportive and loving. He was kicked out of his hometown when his parents died, and has been hopping from town to town since. Until he ended up in the Encanto.)

PS. he also owns a grey cat named Alegria ^u^

*******

Bruno spends an extra hour in the bathroom this morning, washing his hair and shaving as much as he can. Thirty minutes are spent on teeth alone. He throws on his prettiest ruana (with extra embroidery by Mirabel) over a new green and white striped shirt and purple pants. A corsage tucked over his heart, he dashes downstairs.

His cheerful presence is not lost on the family, who watch him intently.

“Wonder what’s got him all cleaned up,” Camilo says.

“Matias is coming over,” Isabela answers as she walks out. Camilo blanches.

“Not with a new machine, right?” he whispers to his sister. Dolores simply stares at him.

“Not with a new machine, right?” Camilo squeaks.

Dolores rolls her eyes and strains her head to listen. “It’s definitely not his typical machine… it does sound awfully loud. Sort of like… instruments crashing together.” Camilo weakly whimpers.

“Don’t worry, Papá and I have been teaching him to play,” Mirabel says as she passes.

“Play?!”

Mirabel ignores her primo and runs out. “I’m going for a walk, see ya!”

Bruno picks up a small parcel wrapped up in a custom wrapping paper with little drawn gears shaped like hearts on them. He approaches his sobrinos and twirls.

“How do I look?”

“Better than usual,” Camilo admits. “I can’t even smell your breath from here.”

“You look muy guapo,” Dolores says. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s our anniversary today!” Bruno squeals. “A whole year! I can’t wait to show Matias my gift-”

Bang! Crash! Bang! Crash! True to what Dolores said, whatever invention Matias has brought this time, it’s going to be a very musical, albeit noisy one.

“That’s definitely not what I had in mind when he said he would surprise me today,” Bruno says. “Camilo, what do you see out there?”

Camilo peers out the window. Matias has put on a lovely suit, no doubt tailored by Agustín. His black dreadlocks have been tied up into a bun. However, his silver vest and new purple shirt hide underneath a shield of musical instruments. A horn hangs across his chest, a trumpet is strapped to his chest, an accordion is fastened to his belt, and on his back is a large bass drum, with crash cymbals on top of it. When he moves, a mallet bangs on the drum and the cymbals crash together. Mirabel stands beside him, trying to suppress her amused smile.

Camilo turns back to Bruno. “Do you remember that movie we watched together? The one with the magical nanny?”

Bruno nods. “Yeah?”

“That’s your surprise-”

Bruno dashes out before Camilo can finish his sentence.

“Good morning, hermoso! Happy anniversary!” Matias yells over his instruments banging together.

“Hey Matias! I heard you were coming,” Bruno says. “Literally. What are you wearing? What is all this?”

The inventor twirls around. “Do you like it? I thought I’d take a page out of the moving picture you showed us the other day.” He picks up the accordion and begins to play.

“You didn’t strike me as an accordion player,” Bruno admits as he listens to Matias. He’s actually holding the instrument correctly! And not butchering any notes! It’s a miracle!

“That’s because I’m not. Mirabel had to teach me,” Matias admits.

“I did offer to play with him, but he wanted to do the whole act,” Mirabel adds.

“I’m dating an actual soap opera star. I need to have some credibility to my name,” Matias says. He takes a deep breath and begins to sing.

Ain't it a glorious day?

Right as a morning in May

I feel like I could fly

“Isn’t this from Mary Poppins?” Bruno asks.

“Shut up and please let me do this.”

Have you ever seen the grass

So green, or a bluer sky?

Oh it's a jolly holiday with Bruno

Bruno makes your heart so light!

“You have too much faith in me, mi vida,” Bruno says with a laugh.

When the day is gray and you feel low

The sky suddenly darkens before the sun breaks through once more.

Bruno makes the sun shine bright!

Bruno spies Pepa peeking out from behind a tree. How many Madrigals did Matias plan this with?!

Oh, happiness is blooming all around him,

The daffodils are smiling at the dove

Right on cue, daffodil petals shower Bruno. He catches Isabela high–fiving his sister.

When Bruno holds your hand

You feel so grand

Your heart starts beating like a big brass band!

Matias jumps to the beat, the instruments a rhythmic discord. Mirabel winces, but Bruno laughs.

It's a jolly holiday with Bruno

No wonder that it's Bruno that we love!

Matias grabs Bruno’s hand and pulls him through the town. Isabela showers flowers in their direction and Antonio stands by a fence with animals lined up. Matias joins them.

“We practiced on this all week! Take it away guys!”

“Baaaaa!” an older ram sings. Interesting.

“Baa! Baa!” a trio of lambs respond.

A horse whinnies the next part, followed by a cow mooing. Are the animals supposed to sing along? Bruno raises an eyebrow.

“You know this part sounded better in my head,” Matias admits. Bruno snorts. “Antonio said they sounded like a choir.”

“They do!” Antonio exclaims.

Donkeys bray the next line, and a large pig finishes the verse with two loud snorts. Mirabel and Antonio sing the translation, hoping to save the last verse of the song.

When Bruno holds your hand

You feel so grand

Your heart starts beating like a big brass band!

It's a jolly holiday with Bruno

No wonder that it's Bruno that we love!

Bruno applauds the “musician” and the animals (who honestly did their best). “Asombroso! Wonderful playing!”

Matias attempts to bow, the accordion pushing into his stomach. “Note to self: it’s hard to bend over when you have instruments strapped to you.”

“Need help getting all that off?” Bruno asks, gently knocking on the drum.

“Yes, actually, the local band needs all of these back before their next gig.”

Bruno freezes. “Seriously? How did you even get them to give you these instruments?”

“Your sobrina is a very persistent young lady,” Matias answers, nodding to Mirabel. She winks.

“He’s my best pupil! I’ve never seen anyone learn the accordion so quickly before,” Mirabel says. “Other than me, of course.”

“Your whole family is quite musical, so I thought it would be smart if I joined in,” Matias explains.

Bruno’s eyes widen. “Oh! I’m actually not that musical myself, you didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“Really? I always took you for a pianist, especially with those hands of yours.”

Bruno’s cheeks burn hotter than the sun. He shoves Matias playfully. “Come on, let’s get these instruments off you. That way I can show you the gift I got you…”

If Camilo hears the discordant cymbal crashing as he walks through town, he does not acknowledge it. He doesn’t hear the drum occasionally going thump. And he certainly doesn’t hear the rhythmic squeezing of a dying accordion squashed between two people. No. He won’t acknowledge the sound of the One (well, Two) Man Band!

Matias holds up his new notebook, running his hands over the pretty cover. Illustrated rats play with kittens, no doubt inspired by Alegria, Matias’ grey cat. “This is a wonderful gift! I definitely needed a new sketchbook! You have no idea how many new ideas I’ve got.”

“The last one looked like it was bursting at the seams. And look-” Bruno flips through the pages. Little sketches of cats appear, along with encouraging messages in Bruno’s handwriting. Matias freezes.

“My writing looks more like chicken scratches, so I hope you can actually read them,” Bruno rambles. “I did try looking for inspirational quotes from the future… but I don’t think you’d get any references, so I just stuck to basic stuff. Cheesy, right?” He stops when he sees Matias wiping away tears. Bruno winces.

“It’s bad, isn’t it? You can always rip those out or draw over them or-”

“My first notebook was a lot like this. Full of little motivational quotes written by my parents.” That catches Bruno off guard. In all their time together, Matias had never really mentioned his own family. Hell, he even arrived in Encanto alone!

“I think it’s still in my green toolbox. I always keep the most important stuff in that toolbox,” Matias says.

Bruno moves closer to Matias, motioning him to talk. From what he knows from the small tidbits Matias has told him, the inventor hopped from town to town, never settling in one place. He doesn’t think Matias has ever lived in a town for a whole year.

“After my first few ‘village incidents’, I started to keep all my precious things, stuff I didn’t want to lose, in that toolbox. Just in case I ever needed to get out of town quickly. I didn’t need to worry about a heavy suitcase.”

Bruno fidgets with his ruana, struggling to think up any comforting words. He finally decides to just put his hand on Matias’.

Matias turns to Bruno, smile slowly returning. He grasps Bruno’s hands. “But this time, I… I think I want to stay. I’ve never felt so welcome here! Everyone is so welcoming and encouraging. I’ve never felt more at home! So, if you’ll allow it, I want to live in Encanto permanently.”

No sooner has Matias finished his sentence does Bruno shower him with kisses. Matias chuckles. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course! You’ll always have a home here!”

#apparently i can write #oc #encanto oc #bruno madrigal #disney encanto #wdtajn #immabethehero #encanto fanfiction

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attackonwakeup · 4 months

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This is a piece of nightmare prose I wrote for Pride. It encapsulates all of my fears that stem from who I am, how I've perceived myself, and the general queer hellscape of never properly being seen.

TW: S/H, Dysphoria, Body Horror

Skin

It started with my skin.

The flesh sheet over the rest of my fuckup organic machine that has never ceased to come up with new ways to fail. Medical issues are something I'm intimately familiar with. My brain, lungs, blood, and eyes don't work properly. But my SKIN? That was new. Around the 9th grade, I would stare at myself to try and figure out what exactly was wrong, but nothing would catch my eye. It wasn't anything physically wrong with it, at least I didn't think so at first.

The only real way I can describe it, even now, is a primal need to rip it all off. It didn't belong to me anymore. I was wearing some other THING over the body I was familiar with. That was the intial thought.

"What is happening and how do I make it go away?"

It seeped deeper. That unfamiliarity no longer resided on the surface level, but penetrated more layers until I had to start taking physical action. Precision cuts to isolate the spread. It made it feel like I was delaying the infection to anything important. It was just skin, right? It would scab and scar and I could reclaim it as mine.

I have yet to do that reclaiming. The skin was the first thing I felt be taken, and I truly think it'll be the last thing I can feel like is mine again.

The mystery ailment that I couldn't detect with sight but could FEEL ruining my life? The plague that I still want to flay my body to get rid of?

That was my first encounter with Dysphoria.

"FUCK. I'm not a guy."

I mentally contained the feeling through those cuts. Buying myself more time until I was out of an environment that would kill me if I brought it up.

I got to college, where I lived alone and could explore.

Intense dread and panic were now my new roommates. The constant morphing of plans to mitigate this worst case scenario where any of my family found out that the son they loved has died, and was replaced with some unfathomable monster that doesn't have a name.

This is when I remember it hitting my

Brain.

It was undeniable now. I wasn't a cis man. I met people that taught me new words that could use to help identify the monster.

I learned it wasn't a monster, it was a large part of me and who I am.

"I'll still think of it as a monster for a few years, don't worry."

The term nonbinary was something I deeply resonated with. Not belonging on either side of the switch. Something extra, a way to sort my actual identity from all of the trauma that came from the actual discovery of said identity and whatever bled into the middle. We're the sum of all of our parts is something that was beat into me, so it is what I applied to my own gender science.

That middle part would eventually become the most important, but we'll get there.

My nonbinary experience can largely be summed up at first as mentally toying with the idea of androgyny, but never feeling confident enough to explore it through more than hypothetical what ifs in my head. I didn't OWE anyone androgyny but myself, and I didn't want to play into this notion that my identity could be boiled down to what the nonbinary representation I found online looked like.

It got muddier than that as time went on. My nonbinary became this weird struggle with things like facial hair, but wanting to maintain this aura of not quite something that's thought of as traditional masculinity but YOU'RE REALLY PUSHING IT maybe???

someone who was standing next to a person at a punk show with a battle jacket on

That's the best way to describe my nonbinary.

The people closest to me knew I wasn't a man, and that was a really really good feeling until it was no longer enough. I felt that same creeping that washed over my skin and my brain return. It yearned for more, I thought. I couldn't recognize this force as something benevolent yet. It demanded more of that I had thought of "me" as tribute.

It took my

Name.

I do not like my family. There's exactly 3 people I care about that share the same blood as me. The rest can go to hell, honestly. My birth name was this identifier that, as I experimented with genderfuckery, transmuted into a boulder.

Trans.

A term I never used because I didn't know it could go hand in hand with something like nonbinary. My newly they/them ass could not FATHOM that you can have multiple labels and flags and all of that cool stuff if you really wanted.

I thought about my favorite characters in media, and my grandparents during this time. The sexual trauma I experienced at a very young age started to come out from the murk, as well.

I wanted something different than the new gender I fought so hard for and the very notion of that was scary. I had gotten very good about keeping that infection in my skin at bay and not hurting myself anymore.

"... Am I a girl maybe?"

I NEEDED to have womanhood. I NEEDED to claw my way up a new sheer cliff to maybe finally fucking stop paying tribute to the deity in my head known as Dysphoria.

I thought about a new name for a very long time, and landed on Eileen.

From the cute mole from Regular Show, because her and Rigby's relationship is something that brought me great joy through a lot of failed ones of my own.

But most importantly, from Eileen the Crow from Bloodborne. A sad old woman, who could no longer dream but still kept fighting people who were lost to the horrors. A Hunter of Hunters.

Eileen the Crow is the most I've felt myself in a character, even though she has like eight lines total.

I'm an incredibly depressed nonbinary transfemme, and that's mostly how I got to where I'm at. I'm still finding new ways to live.

Still waiting for Dysphoria's return, wondering what they will demand as tribute next.

I think I caught a glimpse of that God when I had to come off of HRT, beckoning me back to another place of horror.

But they do it because it is the only way I'll ever be the real me. The collection of all of these trials will be the only way I can even try to feel whole. To feel like an actual person.

And so, I sometimes catch myself praying to Dysphoria. A sort of religious figure in my eyes to keep pushing my boulder and strive for the perfect me.

Thanks for stealing my skin, I guess.

Happy Pride.

#gender dysphoria #body dysmorphia #trans #eileen the crow #pride month

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b-movie-mondays · 2 years

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B Movie Mondays

Llamageddon (NR, 2015) Amazon - Tubi Run Time: 1h 9m Watches: 6 IMDB Rating: 3.8/10 My Rating: 🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈 Word Count: 725

A cinematic masterpiece. Perhaps one of the only movies I’ll ever review to get all five sharks. Unironically one of my favorite films of all time. Comedic genius.

What’s good about Llamageddon isn’t that it’s good; no, this movie is awful, but it has charm. It’s funny. It’s endearing. It ever gets old. There isn’t a boring scene in this godforsaken film. Llamageddon knows what it is. It’s a self-aware, on-purpose, B-movie-with-no-budget. That’s why I love it! The 6 watches is an estimate, because I’ve probably watched this movie countless times. Enough about my praises, let's get into the meat and potatoes of the 2015 Sci-Fi horror comedy “Llamageddon”.

Llamageddon follows the story of 20-something siblings Floyd and Mel, along with Mel’s friends, who she invited to their deceased grandparents’ home. How did their grandparents die you may ask yourself? A killer llama from outer space, of course! That’s right; the villain of this movie is a space-llama with laser eyes.

The film starts with a lovely animated sequence of the killer llama planet, in which we see our Killer Llama (played by animal actor Louie the Llama) crash landing on planet Earth. Killer Llama, who I’ll be calling “KL” for short, wanders onto the property of MeeMaw and Pep Pep, our protagonists' grandparents. MeeMaw and Pep Pep assume the llama belongs to one of their neighbors…which turns out to be a grave mistake. MeeMaw and Pep Pep are brutally murdered. Shenanigans ensue.

Mel is a popular party girl and Floyd is a nerd. They really make sure you know this man is a loser in this film. It is referenced constantly. Floyd is cringe-fail. Floyd is a little meow meow. He is sopping wet and pathetic. I want to throw him around like a football. I want to put him in the washing machine and watch him spin. He’s like a milk-soaked Webkinz cat to me.

Our two protagonists are joined by Mel’s friends, and all of them are incredible. The characters in this movie are just so strange and lovely. They’re flat yet 3-dimensional at the same time. My personal favorite is Dan, who changes his shirt 23 times throughout the whole movie. Let it be very clear that I don’t mean he changes his shirt on camera, but rather every time he’s on screen he’s wearing a new one. The first time it happens you think “Hey, look at this little inconsistency thing that happened” but once you get up to about 5 you start anticipating and looking forward to it.

Now the cast doesn’t particularly matter because save for Mel and Floyd, everyone dies. I like to try to make sure my reviews are at least somewhat spoiler free, so if you decide to watch it for yourself there’s at least some surprise, but this is just something that needs to be said. They all die. There are so many very, very absurd and over the top deaths that it’s laughable. Remember the game Dumb Ways To Die? It’s like that. Sometimes it's in a car explosion, sometimes it’s getting electrocuted in the jacuzzi, sometimes it’s getting shot after turning into a semi-sentient llama-man and laying tons of fuzzy alien llama eggs (yes, that really happens). You never know. KL spares no one.

Llamageddon’s soundtrack is something worth mentioning as well. There is an original song created specifically for the movie played at the end of the film and it’s…kind of a bop? It goes kind of hard? I don’t want to sing too many praises to Llamageddon but this movie really does have it all. There’s no trope that goes untouched. It’s truly a masterpiece of cinema.

Honestly writing this was a tad hard because there’s just so much that happens and so much to talk about. I don’t like posting super long reviews because I feel like no one reads them, but holy shit. I could write about this movie for hours and hours and hours. There’s just too much to touch on. I really can’t recommend you watch it enough. Get some friends to do it with though. I assure you this movie is a million times funnier if you’re subjecting someone to it. Have fun making your loved ones turn to you in confusion and concern and ask, “What the fuck are you making me watch?”

#llamageddon #b movie mondays #b movies #b movie #bad movies #horror #sci fi #comedy #movie review #movies #2010’s movies

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spideronthesun · 7 months

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Manuscript Search Tag

I got tagged by @faeriecinna ! Thank you so much!

I am in the process of editing now as well as removing/adding more scenes. The words i received are: sick, small, remember and cloud.

sick:

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Nikolas said, rubbing his brother’s back. “I was lucky to have you by my side when our parents died. You did much more for this family than I sometimes did. Who looked after everyone when they got sick? You did. Who would do the laundry? It was all you, because I had no idea how to turn on a washing machine.” Edvardas trembled as if he was treading on thin ice. He pulled his shoulders together, but kept his arms crossed. “You don’t have to lie to me because you are my older brother.”

small:

Behind their backs coils of smoke eddied round a boiling hot black cauldron so dense Adamas sneezed. Rubbing his nose and blinking his eyes, the small boy stared up at Marcele. “What are you making, mama?” “While packing boxes, I stumbled upon an old recipe book and decided to make the dish that mociute used to cook.” Marcele stirred the mixture with a spoon and put it in her son’s mouth. “What do you think it is missing?” Adamas leaned over the large earthenware pot and slurped the liquid off the spoon. He smacked his lips a few times and hummed before he spoke up. “Add one more spoon of rosemary to it. And maybe some lemon balm.”

remember:

To his first interview, he had brought a microphone and recorder, chewing gum in his mouth. Adamas was meeting the art museum director for an article on the new art exhibition. His fingers were shaking as he was taking notes, and for a long time, he could not remember the conversation the two upheld. He had studied the historical significance behind the sculptures, wondering where they hailed from. Nikolas helped him with his research, volunteering to tag along. Nikolas loved museums, taking pleasure in the stories while he pored over the displays.

cloud:

The departure of Edvardas from the family brought a sinister shadow over the land, much like the sun disappearing behind the clouds. Watching his brother leave, Adamas felt like a murderer who had robbed someone of his life. The body, taken away from him, fell like a tree branch breaking off and falling in front of their house. The sound on the roof startled Adamas. He turned around and picked up a piece of dead wood off the ground.

Words I am giving:

morning, seeds, summer, memory

Tagging: @infinnative @darkangel319 @the-aranea-chronicles @mundanemoongirl & anyone else who wants to do it!

#excerpts #wip: tales of the oak and lightning

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thecolorfulloko · 2 years

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its modelo time she said

the following takes place close enough to hear the waves break natural oils salt washed and golden skin sun baked our dirty heads soaking up the minerals together sinking into the water and drying out on the sand where the living breathing ocean spares us from going any further beached as it made for the shore stacks of buildings strand along the coast in one of many communities that carve into the edge of her country here ive headed for the summer already mistaken for a native she let me crash in her hammock introduced me to her circle i dont know why i fool myself everyone is only out to see her shes got connections all around the square social currency to get us into the best parties well spent on the most potent i can experience we’re polishing our third eyes picking up higher vibrations wiping away the clouds my mind has a clear view im looking down at the deep like a wellness retreat i found it making sense the rush in my heart when i hear the soul in her records beats to fall in love to what she produces is plentiful a shine she carries bright a glow to her face that reflects shes got the right idea and she really means it and im convinced of the magic she possesses its a potion given in small doses shes sweet as sapote now sometimes its her that i crave we sat on the curb in the plaza she promises she can heal me with herbs the right frequencies and meditation ritualistic methods of relaxation consuming ceremoniously proper respect for the dead before we kiss the especial we can reach the gods and make an offering our devotion through these spiritual interfaces reading from her book of hymns the goal is for the sermons to travel all throughout collective consciousness music is the best way to spread the word i asked for some recommendations she made me a sample worthy mixtape i saved it in my song machine a composer and singer, yours truly and i havent died yet just let me come up a little watch me turn the switch insert the tape set the levels on the EQ now we're talking we style like dub all-stars we've got creative control as long as we hold those crystals we can sustain and we can endure turning up the volume a little ghetto blasting the streets like this swimming through this heat even when the lights turn on up until then we were casual my gold under an open collar the short skirt for Milena my comments were at least respectful and we got down drunker than ever staying out late as we wanted restless legs in the night clubs frame by frame flashes of her dancing closer to me then it got darker i was close to blacking out but from what i can remember the pitch was lower the tempo was slower i made the move she held on like i was saying goodbye her tears pressed against my cheek thats when she let go of my hand knowing we were more than friends i guess shes better off with her backup plan but her gentleman still bites his tongue and that girl looks cute with anyone even as her relationship began to stagnate a harsh contrast to the honeymoon phase it can be such an ugly feeling to betray Milena says she will love the best she can so this is how it ends and this is how i romanticize everything was perfect for a while everything was right when we were alone i returned still tripping on my feelings drifting in and out of regret staying awake to all of the noise in my head losing touch and recovering from the withdrawals a ways away and im near sighted shes out of focus a million miles from her and i was tempted to send my love but like all my former sidekicks the years passed and corrected dressing us definitely theres no going back and no more rewinding our soundtrack i stopped the tape and put in another proud of myself for going this far being like i want everyday without a fantasy reality is a fruit ripe to eat oxygen is delicious repeating my affirmations until i fall sleep sometimes dreaming of Milena im swinging in that hammock carried away by the stars underneath my eyelids and i can still taste the sea on my lips

#blog #poetry

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uwukillmenowowo · 1 year

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To Wash the Inky Stains of Hate

[Cover by: me/Kumon]

[Dabi X Ink Demon! Reader]

Requested by:

mayaimishigo

[This lovely person right here~!]

Fandoms:

Boku No Hero Academia & Bendy and the Ink Machine

Trigger warnings:

- Blood/Death/Gore/Murder/etc

- Swearing/Foul Language

- Stop, don't touch me there, this is my no no square! [In future chapters]

[Main Characters:]

- Twice and Mange are deceased.

- Dabi - 24

- Reader - 23

- Shigaraki - 21

- Toga - 17

- Kurogiri - Died 17 - Technically 18 [Got off Google Idk I didn't watch/read that far :( ]

- Alice - XXXX

- Boris/Buddy - XXXX

- Alice/Allison - XXXX

Quirk: Ink Demon

This quirk allows its user to manifest a demonic creature made entirely out of ink, this demonic creature is extremely powerful and can cause great amounts of destruction to whoever and whatever it comes into contact with. This creature has great speed, strength and durability. It also has a very high intelligence, capable of devising complex plans and strategies to use against its opponents. The user of this quirk must be very careful in using it and have a great understanding of how to control it. the user also has the ability to produce and control ink, it can make structures, entities, objects and so much more.

[Notes:]

- This is... like season 6 [Of BNHA] but it isn't

- Dabi's hair will still be black because it's easier for me.

- There will be others if I remember them...

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Chaos

1396000 people

2792000 people

5584000 people

The massacre never ends, does it?

{Third POV}

~~~~~

"Whaaa~! She's really on a massive genocide, isn't she? Look at all the blood and corpses~!" A female with ash-blonde hair fangirled with her hands on her cheeks and a blush on her face. "She does have quite the body count..." "And what's with all that black liquid..?" The trio continued to observe, as well as theorize about the so-called "Black liquid" that she was producing.

"It also looks like she's controlling all of that black stuff." The white-haired male nodded, continuing to watch the chaos unfold. 'How many heroes and civilians has she killed already?' He thought as he continued to stare at the ruined city that was once protected. But did he care? Absolutely not, in fact, he actually thinks that all those people deserved it. He's been through all of it before.

"It... kinda looks like ink." The ash-blonde female said as she used her hand to cover her eyes from the afternoon sun. She found the other girls' brutal techniques rather interesting. I mean, the girl has killed millions of people in the span of a few hours. She kind of wanted to learn from the girl. She could get so much more blood that way!

"Using ink to control, create, and destroy? Kinda cringe and cliche..." The black-haired male sighed as he turned his gaze away. Obviously annoyed and seemingly not impressed. In all honesty, he just wanted to join in the carnage to let out some of his frustrations.

"Shut it Dabi. That quirk of hers actually looks kind of useful. Unlike that masked bird bitch." The white-haired male stated, not turning his gaze away from the scene. "If what the wacko said is correct and that's ink then I don't find it all that impressive." "Hey! You burnt chicken nugget! Yours also isn't impressive! I mean- it's just fire but blue!" "What did you call me nutjob?" "*Hmph* You heard me!" "SHUT IT! BOTH OF YOU! I'm already having a fucking headache and the both of you are making it worse!"

The "Nutjob" huffed and crossed her arms while Dabi placed his hands on his hips, both watching as the white-haired male started to leave. "Kurogiri, teleport us back. We need to inform him of our findings. If he deems that maniacal girl worthy then we should try to recruit her. Find out her quirk, wants and dream and then he'll decide what we do with her after."

A purple swirl of clouds appeared and the three started to leave. Leaving leftover heroes to deal with the crazed genocider.

{XXXX POV}

~~~~~

"8375990 out of 8376000 people... Heh- *Smirk* Almost around 60%..." I muttered to myself as I ordered another squad of searchers to destroy another group of tanks that the military tried to send while I dodged more chains from the warden hero: Crushlock. A hero that helps the cops in the crime department in restraining "berserk villains." Did I care that I was killing a lot of people? No. Did I care that the government wanted my head? Pffttt-! Of course not! I needed to make HIM pay for everything he's done to me and all the others and there's no way in hell I'm stopping until I archived that goal.

"HALT VILLIAN!"

I sighed, glaring at the heroes that kept coming. They're not that much fun to fight. Not even good enough to pass the time. Just bugs that hover around a meal that was left unattended. I held my hand out, creating ink in my hands and pointed my palm to the floor, raising an inky barrier as another hero tried to attack me. "Annoying..." I said to myself and then raised both my hands, creating a tsunami of ink.

There were screams, lots of them. Then when the ink faded there were just the corpses of everyone who tried to stop me. Now, I would've used this attack from the beginning but i was hungry and haven't eaten in a few weeks. But now that i've used it I'm hungry again... "Does anywhere have bacon soup?" I questioned myself, looking around the ruined area.

"Hmmm..." I groaned and snapped my fingers, the searchers came back to me and I commanded them to find some food. While I waited I sat down and started to stretch.

It's been almost an hour... I crossed my legs and crossed my arms. "Where are my searchers..?" I know that they're still alive since I could still sense them. They are my creation after all. They haven't run into any heroes either. So what's with the—

One was destroyed?

Two...

Three...

Four...

I glanced around me, expecting another hero. Four searchers died. Burned, disintegrated, slashed, and drowned. I stood up wearily but then I saw some sort of portal appear in front of me. 'It's like my ink domain.' I thought as I raised my hand, ready to attack.

{Third Person POV}

~~~~~

The four beings entered the portal, not surprised when they saw a female in a fighting stance. The foggy-headed male raised both his... hands and walked slowly toward the female. "Miss [Y/n]," He stared, startling the female since she did not expect them to know her name. "We mean you no harm. We are the League of Villains and we've come to make a request." The female furrowed her brows, not trusting them. "What..." was all she asked, still in a fighting position.

"We simply want to examine your quirk. Want to know how it works." The female faltered and sweatdropped. "That's it..?" The foggy boi nodded and the female looked behind him, seeing a white-haired male with hella chapped lips, an ash-blonde girl who looks like she was about to climax, and a black-haired male who looks like the only sane person here. "Hmm? Oh, these three behind me ate my comrades. Shigaraki Tomura, Toga Himiko, and Dabi. As for me, you can refer to me as Kurogiri,"

"So chapped lips is Shiggy, Horny-looking ass is Toga, Burnt nugget is Dabi, and you're Kurogiri." As the female said that they all had mixed reactions, Shigaraki and Dabi looked pissed and annoyed. Toga looked... like herself but was laughing, and Kurogiri appeared shocked. "I... suppose so." Kurogiri said as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Will you help us with your quirk?"

"Hold up— What am I getting out of this?"

The four froze. They did their research but most of that research was just her birth certificate. And her parents' names were scratched out, they knew nothing of her past or her desires. "Thought so... Fine. I'll help y'all out, but do you know of someone called Joey Drew and Henry Stein." The villains looked at each other before shaking their heads. Who were they? People you cared for or people you wanted to kill?

[Y/n] scowled. "However..." She then perked up to what Shigaraki had to say. "We could help you try to find whoever they are." [Y/n] then pondered on. It would certainly take less time than killing everyone to draw them out...

She sighed and crossed her arms, using her quirk to create an ink hand so that she doesn't have to touch them. She doesn't know what their quirks do after all.

"Fine. I'll let you examine my quirk. In exchange, you gotta help me find who I'm lookin' for... Deal?"

Kurogiri looked at Shigaraki, who in turn walked forward and shook the inky hand.

"Sure... Deal or whatever.

Wooooo! Actual post pooogg!

I am well aware that they are kind out of character

This is actually my first request so eeeehhhhh-

bare with me plz

#batim ink demon #bendy and the dark revival #ink demon #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi x female reader #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi todoroki #League of Villians #Ink Demon Reader #𝐓𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞

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hikoalabear · 7 months

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(2/2) I was lying there with this heat in my lower abdomen as I was shrieking, wailing, and screaming. It felt like I was pushing the hell out of my body all of the exhaustion from being poor, from all the limitations of growing up in poverty, and from being stuck with all the lack and the endless survival that comes with it. I even saw Neil at our small apartment sleeping and I was crying as I told him "I'm going to get us out of here." The heat now goes up in my stomach, I've felt the sadness and loathing of my younger self for feeling hungry— she's mad at her parents for being poor. Then I felt the pain, guilt, and shame of my grandmother and mother for not being able to provide enough for their children. I was just mind-blown by that revelation, it was never their intention to starve us or want any of us to struggle. They were doing the best they could to make ends meet and I feel so sorry for them. I cried and I cried, purging all of their blockages, pain, and humiliation for not being the parents they wanted to be. Then I found myself swirling in a pool of water like I was inside a washing machine with a POV of all of the things that I've been longing for — that house, car, money, among other things— and there was this knowing that the God was leaving me these messages: "Everything you want is just out there for you to claim." "Magaling ka, ang galing galing mo! Kaya mo abutin lahat ng pangarap mo." I can't stop crying from being overwhelmed. I was thumping my chest as I said: "Ang daming dumurog ng self confidence ko, pero binuo ulit 'to ni Lord." "Hindi nagkulang ang panginoon, laging meron!" There was such great freedom as my old self died, taking with her all the lack, suffering, limiting beliefs, low self-esteem, poverty mindset, shame, and pain that I and generations before me have been carrying in our reincarnations. As I heal, also I heal my entire lineage by cutting the cords of poverty to open the doors to abundance. I then empower my painting— a sunbird resting on a branch with the sun, skies, mountains, and falls in its background— to keep on releasing lack and blockages as part of my healing journey and welcome abundance in my life. Suddenly I'm the sunbird, soaring through the skies with the view of the mountains, falls, and clouds; even tasting the bitter-sweet nectar in my mouth. Indeed, we lack nothing because the universe is so abundant! We have all we ever need and we can just get whatever we want, we just need to let go of all the illusions and lies that we've been programmed to buy into. Money is an illusion, don't be obsessed with it! Everything is energy, money is energy. When we use energy, it doesn't disappear it only changes from one form of energy into another form of energy. So don't be afraid to spend for and invest in yourself, it's okay now— there's no lack, no hunger, and no limits because abundance is your birthright along with all the creatures of the Earth. Remember that there's so much abundance that comes with our creativity and God-given talents. Now that you are abundant, learn how to give! The more you give, the more you receive; because we are all connected, and when you give to others you also give to yourself. Don't worry about not having enough, there's always more than enough for you! So let the energy of abundance flow in and out of you and be a good steward of your blessings. God's love and abundance never fail, it never runs out of you. Every day, have an attitude of gratitude! There's so much to be grateful for— our family, relationships, friends, colleagues, food, shelter, senses, body, cats, plants, birds, water, air, the Earth, the good and the bad, the entire universe, everything. The more gratitude we have in our hearts, the more we attract great things to be grateful for. How do you even get out of lack when it's the only thing you know your whole life? There's no lack to begin with— it's all in your head— the universe is so abundant, just get whatever you want!

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engagedtobefree · 7 months

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My friend Craig died last month. I knew it was coming, but it still doesn’t take any of the pain away. His mom texted me and our boss just before noon the day of his passing, saying that he went peacefully. He didn’t even know. He consciously had no idea he was dying. I don’t know whether that’s a blessing or a tragedy, though I really can’t see this situation as anything but the latter. I spent most of that day crying. Succeeded in not crying at Walmart, but then cried at the laundromat. My apartment’s washing machines were unusable because the water was frozen between the coldness and all the snow we got that week. Frozen, just like Craig’s life. Frozen at 33.

Craig went into the hospital the morning of December 28th. I remember this vividly for several reasons, the first being that I had taken off the next day to attend another friend’s wedding. The second reason being I immediately knew he wasn’t going to come home. His mom is my co-worker, and Craig also worked at our company. There’s only 3 of us in my department: her, me, and our boss. She told me some time before lunch. I had gone into her office to give her some paperwork and she told me Craig was in the hospital for the flu, that he woke up that morning and couldn’t breathe. She said that whenever he gets sick he has breathing issues, regardless of what it is, but that he doesn’t have any type of disorder. I thought that was strange because I have asthma and that doesn’t even happen to me. But the thing is, right before she told me what he went into the hospital for, I had an intuitive feeling, you know the ones that come from right beneath your lower left ribs. It came from there. I had the specific feeling that he wouldn’t leave the hospital alive. I have been trying to listen to my intuition more to make it even stronger than it already is, but naturally I didn’t want to listen to this. Joyce told me Craig was in the hospital, the feeling washed over me he wouldn't come back, then I asked her what was wrong and she told me, and I thought maybe for the first time ever, my intuition was wrong. I wanted it to be. Craig has the flu, I rationalized. He will be fine. Except he wasn’t fine. The flu turned into an infection, which led to sepsis, which then led to bleeding around his brain, causing several strokes and brain damage that he would never recover from. I want to be angry at myself, that my first initial reaction, regardless of it being my intuition, was that he wasn’t going to come home alive. But I can’t feel anything other than grief right now. I tried so hard to rationalize my first feeling away, I tried so hard not to be worried or concerned, I tried so hard to believe he was somehow going to pull out of this, even as things got worse and worse. I just kept telling myself he’d be fine. Being dead is so far from being fine. It’s the furthest thing away from it.

Craig was 33, just a year older than me. He has a 4-year-old son and a wife, who I believe is my age. I cannot even fucking imagine being widowed and left a single mom at the age I am at right now. I know his wife also lost her father a few years ago; he had a heart attack during Thanksgiving dinner. Joyce, Craig’s mom, is also no stranger to tragic loss. She lost a brother when she was a kid, I think she was like 8 or 9 and her brother was 12. They were walking home from school and he just dropped dead from a brain aneurysm. Now she lost her son in a similar way. I know she lost several close friends, and I think she was pretty young when she lost her parents. She has two other children; Craig was the oldest. Her youngest, Jason, who I believe is 25, has been struggling a lot with his mental health. I met Jason a few years ago when he joined a D&D group I was in with some friends. Craig was a new father at the time, his son was maybe 1 or so, and he had mentioned to me at work how hard it was and he felt like he barely got to go out anymore. Him being a nerd like myself, I invited him to join my group, and then eventually he had his brother join too. Jason didn’t stay in our group very long, maybe a few months tops, because of his severe anxiety. We all thought he was doing okay, but of course anxiety being an internal thing, it’s not always easy to tell. Jason has been struggling even more, his anxiety morphing into depression because of them having to put down their dog last year. Joyce said their dog was Jason’s best friend, and now he just lost his older brother. Last year on several different occasions, I gave Joyce some tips for helping Jason, since he hasn’t responded positively to any medication. One suggestion I gave her was pharmacogenetic testing, another was TMS Therapy, and the third was this video game therapy program (I forget the name at the moment). Both Jason and Joyce were really grateful for my help, and Jason even came into the office one day back in maybe late November/early December after a therapy session (he doesn’t drive and Joyce had to stop by the office). I could tell he was nervous but trying to open up, so I just started talking in the hopes I could help ease his nerves a bit. I think it worked, cuz before Joyce left to take him back home, he said we should all plan a game night where I can come over. I don’t know how I am supposed to do that now. It would just be so weird without Craig. But good God, Jason is going to need help more than ever now. Joyce was trying not to bury one son and ended up having to bury the other. This whole situation is so fucked. The only light I can see is that hopefully Joyce can help him in some way because she knows what it’s like to lose a brother. I was telling my friend Amanda some of this and she said Jason will need support now more than ever, and I know that. Just right now, it is so hard to see beyond my own grief for my friend, not knowing how I’ll be able to help when I am also grieving, but I know what I feel is absolutely nowhere near as devastating as it is for his family. My heart breaks for all of them.

This just doesn’t feel real to me. I haven’t known Craig a very long time, since 2018 I think. It wasn’t long after I started that he did too. He worked in my building first, out in the warehouse, so I got to interact and talk with him often. It was some time in 2021 he got a position in our other building, and then he left our D&D group to spend more time with his family since he usually worked long hours in his new role. He didn’t want to be a dad at first, but he did start to adjust to it better eventually. I was looking back over our work messages and we continued to talk at work throughout all of 2022, but it phased out in the new year. I occasionally got to see him at work, and I think the last time I saw him was the end of last summer. He worked from home the day of our Christmas party, so I would’ve seen him then but that didn’t happen. I had been thinking all of last year how I should reach out and eventually I did, on his birthday, September 8th, the same as my dad’s. I think that was the last time I talked to him. Joyce knows he shares a birthday with my dad, and what’s even more fucked up is our boss’s birthday is the day Craig passed, January 18th. We are both now going to be reminders of her dead son. Joyce hates it at our company (really don’t blame her tbh) and I know how she has been looking to leave for a long time now. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if at some point this year she turned in her resignation. Not only did she work with her son, but they all lived together: her, her husband, Craig, Craig’s wife & son, and Jason. Her daughter is the only one who doesn’t, as she lives with just her husband and her son. So not only does Joyce have to deal with Craig’s absence at work, she has to deal with it at home too. I just feel so sorry for her. I feel so sorry for everyone.

Craig was such a tough person. I really had high hopes that he was going to pull through. He was in a car accident a little over a decade ago that left him with brain damage and a lot of physical problems, but he wasn’t a complainer. He worked hard and didn’t let his pain get in the way. He even helped me move into my new apartment 3 years ago, and drove me to it in his Tesla, and then he helped my mom move like 6 months later. He had hit her neighbor’s car with the moving truck and since his dad is a mechanic, he promised to come back and fix it. Craig was a man of his word. He was a good friend. He was incredibly funny, though he said things with an ounce of dryness or sarcasm. He always had sassy comebacks that were either given in good faith with some playfulness underneath or said out of brutal honesty. The former was reserved for family and friends, the latter was reserved only for those who truly deserved it. He had a biting sarcasm that not everyone appreciated, but I found it funny. He was honest. He defended himself if you treated him poorly. He didn’t take shit from anyone. He would only tolerate things for so long before he would say you know what, I’m out, screw you. He looked just like Joyce. I’m pretty sure the first exact thing I thought when meeting Craig was, “Oh my God, he’s Joyce’s twin.” I remember one time at work he told me everyone called me his work wife, which I thought was weird because it wasn’t like we talked all the time, but I guess because I don’t talk to many people there, that’s why they came up with that. Apparently, some people, including his mom, even speculated we were having an affair. By that point, I had already survived affair rumors about Scott and I, so I was mostly unphased; people already thought I was some sort of homewrecker, so my reputation was already tainted beyond the point of salvation. Craig handled the situation a lot better than Scott had though. Scott was dismissive and mean towards me about it, but Craig’s attitude was more of a “Fuck ‘em” approach, which I appreciated, and it made me feel better despite another ridiculous rumor going around about me. Thinking about it now, I can only imagine what smartass comeback he had for people saying stuff to him about it. I can’t even begin to imagine what wildly insane reply he would have, but it makes me smile just knowing that that is how he would respond. I keep my friend group relatively small. The fact that Craig was a part of it says a lot. I am going to miss my honest, hard-working, funny friend.

It is so hard for me to wrap my head around all of this. I guess it always is when someone dies young, but even more so when that person especially it is hard to picture their light going out. I don’t know if they mis-diagnosed Craig with the flu at first, or if that is what he had and maybe something else on top of it. Joyce had only been online for a handful of hours for those several weeks, and even though she was texting Pete and I updates all the time, the info she gave was brief. When I would ask questions, I tried to limit it to one or two because I didn’t want to bombard her. Since then, I have given her her space, and I have only seen her in person 3 times this year, so there hasn't been a ton of interactions for more info to come up. I know Craig was pro-vaccine, because I remember talking to him about vaccines in the past. I don’t know if this year he missed his flu shot or if he just got seriously fucking unlucky. I don’t know. It’s just absolutely mind-boggling. This is also the first time I’ve lost a friend. I have lost some family members throughout my life, but this is just different. Friends really are the family you choose. Unlike family, friends are people you consciously let into your life. You choose to spend time with them, make memories, and genuinely enjoy each other’s company. It just hits a bit differently, losing a friend. This is a new experience for me.

One of my best friends, Amanda, lost her other best friend Cassie to brain cancer back in November. Cassie fought long and hard, despite there being no hope for her, and she extended her life another two-and-a-half years. Like Craig, she was only 33 when she died. She had first had cancer back when she was like 19 but was able to enter remission, and she found out at 31 she had cancer again when she went for a check-up because her and her husband planned on having a baby. She wanted to make sure everything was okay since she had been having some headaches, and ended up leaving with devastating news. I only met her once: she came to a donation-based yoga class I did for the Ukraine back in early 2022. During savasana, her and her husband held hands as they laid there. I had never seen any couples do that in class before and I thought it was really cute. I am 100% a believer in romantic soulmates and true love, and it just made my heart feel so warm. Amanda has told me a bit about their relationship and it seemed like they really had a healthy, loving, thriving partnership together. It makes Cassie’s story even that much sadder. Her and Amanda had been friends for probably as long as Stacy and I, and I couldn’t even imagine losing Stacy (or Amanda, who I’ve only been friends with for like 7 years). I put together a grief basket for her, which I was only able to give her right before Christmas. It included: a sticker (Amanda loves traditional tattoos, so the style was perfect for her), a grief notebook (I glued on the starfish since starfish were Cassie’s thing), a book on grief, a pocket hug (yellow, her current favorite color because her one son loves yellow so much), a Doodlebob pen holder (for shits and giggles, to break up the seriousness of everything), and of course a card. I put everything in a little basket, which wasn’t as fully thought through as everything else because as you can see below, it’s easy for stuff to fall out. Cassie got married on the beach and she had two tattoos of starfish below her collarbones. Amanda told me that the two of them designed her tattoos together. Amanda had a dream about starfish one night; there was a bucket of water in front of her with starfish swimming, but when she picked them up, they died. When she put them back in the water, they were alive again. She thought it was strange because she never remembers her dreams, but this one she remembered very vividly. Ian, Cassie’s husband, called her that same day, to tell her it was time to say goodbye. Cassie was gone I think about 12 hours later. Cassie had been unconscious already when Amanda had her dream, and Amanda believes she had been communicating with her in some way. I think so too.

The book I got for Amanda I found a PDF online of, just to make sure it would be a good fit, which it was. It wasn’t preachy, or dismissive, or religious; it gave actual decent, constructive advice, and every day came with an affirmation. I really wanted Amanda to have it before the new year started so that she could decide for herself when exactly she wanted to start it, since it’s a 365 day kind of book. Amanda’s wifi password has always been a Doodlebob-related thing, and that item randomly popped up when I was searching up grief items on Etsy. I knew I had to include it. The card is something similar to Amanda’s dream. I only briefly searched through cards before that one popped up. Before I even clicked on it, I had this instinctual feeling of “This is the one”. I had ordered from that particular Etsy shop before and really loved the cards, so I knew the quality would be good. It took me some time to decide on everything I ordered, and when I was ready to checkout with the card, I started to second-guess it, thinking maybe I should look back over my options just in case. I remembered that intuitive feeling I had though, and decided before I let my thinking mind get in the way that I was just gonna get it. The day it arrived in the mail I was so excited, as I already had planned what I was going to write in it. Well, I flipped the card over and started crying. On the back, near the bottom, were the astrological symbols for the sun, Aries, and Aquarius. Amanda is an Aries sun and Cassie was an Aquarius sun. I grabbed the previous cards I purchased and checked the backs, even though I already knew that they were all different, which they were. Some didn’t even have any symbols, the rest were all random, like this one, some of the signs being astrological as well and others not, like a peace sign. This Etsy shop has probably hundred of cards and only a handful for grief, and I don’t know how to calculate those odds of getting that particular random ass combination, but I know they’re very slim. I had asked Cassie a few times, just put it out there, to help me pick out only the best for Amanda, and here she was giving her confirmation that she helped. I told Amanda all this and we both cried. I think this is actually what hit Amanda the hardest. Amanda isn’t spiritual like I am, and she has her doubts about a lot of things, but she confided in me that losing Cassie helped her understand what it means like to still feel a person around you after they’re gone. She doesn’t know where Cassie is, but she knows she is still around, and I think my card helped her believe too that what she feels is real. Cassie is still here, she’s just no longer in her body.

I want to get something for Joyce, though I don’t know what yet. I had thought of getting something made with a picture of her and Craig on it, but I don’t know how I’d manage to do that. I’m friends with Craig on Facebook, but he doesn’t have many pictures, and the only ones of him and his mom are from his wedding, but there’s always other people in them. I am going to think about it a bit more this month. A few days after Craig passed, my mom chipped in with me to bring Joyce a catered meal from Olive Garden. It was the Tuesday before Craig’s viewing, and Joyce had the rest of the week off for bereavement. I didn’t want to stop by on any of her days off so she could have some space. She had worked from home that Monday and Tuesday, so I came by her house with the food after work. I had also picked up Thai for myself, and they invited me in to have dinner with them. I got to meet Craig’s wife and son for the first time, and Jason was also there. I stayed for a bit and it was nice. I had kept thinking for well over a week how badly I needed a hug, and Joyce was the first person I was able to receive a hug from. I don’t generally long for physical affection outside of romantic partnerships and with my pets, so this was out of character for me, but after hugging Joyce I did feel better and that yearning went away. Joyce’s husband wasn’t there because he was in the hospital since what happened to Craig also happened to him, except he recovered and is now in rehab. He wasn’t even able to say goodbye to his son. The more I think about this whole situation, the more I realize how fucked up it is. For everyone. Like it’s not even that Craig just died young; there’s all these fucking layers on top of it to make it so much worse.

Craig’s viewing was on January 27th. I had bought a new black dress right before the new year began, and I couldn’t have fathomed that the first time I’d wear it would be to my friend’s viewing. I didn’t want to arrive too early, so I got there about 15-20 minutes before the service was about to start. I had wanted to practice a speech just in case I had to speak, but then I thought I wouldn’t have to do that. Turned out, I did end up giving a little speech. Craig’s best friend had gone first, and he was an absolute mess, understandably. A few other people talked for maybe a minute or so. Then there wasn’t anyone else. I thought, This won’t do, Craig deserves better, and next thing I knew, my legs were walking me up to the podium. I mentioned the first time I met Craig and my first thought about him, which made Joyce bark out a laugh. I also mentioned how Craig helped me move and took me to my new apartment in his Tesla. I mentioned how he hit my mom’s neighbor’s car on her moving day, and how she didn’t think he would come back but he did because he was honest. It was a bit more fleshed out than that, but you get the gist. I did want to say more than I did though. I wanted to say what I put in my obituary condolence about how I was looking back over our work messages from the past few years, and no matter how the conversations started, he always somehow managed to bring the topic around to Star Wars or video games. I wanted to say how he joined my D&D group (which is Dungeons and Dragons for all you non-nerds out there) and how he was able to just be himself always, all the time, even when fully surrounded by people he was meeting for the first time. I wanted to say how generous he was, how hard-working, how tough. But I couldn’t continue. I kept looking over at his casket as I talked, which was a mistake, and being up in front of everyone with their eyes on me was just a bit more unsettling than I thought it would be. I started choking on my words, the tears were building up too much, and I had to end my short little speech that was only half of what I wanted it to be. Later on, it did get me thinking though, how I always remember meeting people for the first time that I either ended up becoming friends with or ended up dating. It’s like a part of me knows, hey this person will be important to you at some point. That inner knowing extends far beyond my capacity to always consciously recognize it.

There was a part of me, for the first few days after Craig’s passing, that was afraid, because you know, death always comes in 3’s, and both Cassie and Craig were 33. I’ll be 33 later this year, Amanda is already 33, and then I have a bunch of other friends who will be turning 33 either this year or next. I was really worried about a third death happening in my personal sphere. Then, one day I had remembered how my dad’s “girlfriend” (long story) has cancer, and I thought, Oh, maybe he will tell me she’s been in the hospital 33 days or something. I kid you not, 5 minutes after I thought that, my dad called me to say he was sorry about my friend, and then he tells me he just took his girlfriend home after she was in the hospital 33 days and that her cancer spread to her brain. I stopped what I was doing when he said that. There it was, the 33, and not only that, but the brain connection too. I know this is going to sound terrible, but I found some relief in that. Of course, I don’t like hearing about anyone dying or even being close to death, but my dad’s girlfriend has at least lived life almost twice as long as any 33-year-old. I do feel sorry, but I also know it was a sign telling me not to needlessly worry, and since then, I haven’t.

I have been thinking about death a lot lately, which I guess has to do with it hitting so close to home. I don’t want to get too much into my own personal beliefs here, but I do believe in reincarnation after a particular event that happened last year made me recognize that I’ve been here before. I was always open to the idea previously, but never fully committed to it prior to that event, which left me absolutely no wiggle-room to ever be unsure about it ever again. I also know that consciousness, that energy, never really dies, and that a person lives on, for however long, in some other world parallel to ours before coming here again. Or not. I am not sure that we all come back to earth. Maybe we get some say in the matter, that we can forever peace-out to some blissful afterlife or we can dive headfirst down into the chaotic wonder of being human again. I believe too, that we choose all of this, this life we have, at least to a certain degree, before we come here. Idk, I won’t pretend to fully know the afterlife rules. Saying all of that, I’ve thought about Craig, trying to find some relief in any of that, and I can’t. Regardless of whether he will one day get another life, his current life has ended, and that is still a tragedy. He won’t get this life back ever again. It was a one-time deal and now it’s gone for good. I’ve been thinking about that, and how his life was tragically short, and how we, as humans, always act like we have all the time in the world. We are so arrogant to think that we always have time, that being young somehow prevents us from meeting an early death. This is part of the reason why for the past year I have been trying desperately to find the right ADHD medication (more on this later). ADHD is possibly one of the biggest time-wasters there is, and I’m tired of living my life the way I am when I try so hard every goddamn day to use my time wisely and fail miserably because my brain doesn’t have all the chemicals it needs. This is why I am a bit frustrated with Chris at the moment (more on this later too). Like, we do not have all the time in the world!!! What are you waiting for!!!!???? Wake up!!!! There is no better time than the present to get things moving along!!! None of us know when our last day on this earth is going to be. Like why are we always waiting and waiting and waiting when literally the next day isn’t even guaranteed?? There is only the present moment always. That’s all there ever is. We are all foolish to believe we have an infinite amount of time before us. Time itself is endless, but it will end for each of us. At least on this physical plane. We’re not guaranteed 80 or 90 years on this planet. We don’t all get that lucky, and it’s time to really wake up to that fact if we haven't already.

This year so far has been pretty shitty. I was sick with a really bad virus two days before new years, and stayed sick two weeks into January. I didn’t even take off, which I think prolonged my sickness, because I didn’t want my boss to have to be by himself since Joyce was only working sporadically because of what was going on with Craig and her husband. That first week was brutal, and I feel bad because being sick kept me in my ego more than I like. I kept rationalizing that Craig would be fine, and I felt a bit bitter for having to work, even though really I could have just taken off a day or two and my boss would have been fine by himself. I am not usually like that, and I have some guilt over feeling that way while my friend was much worse off - dying, in fact. Then Craig passed, my illness faded into just a cough, and there was a week and a half where I was just grieving. Then two days after Craig’s viewing, I started not feeling well. Turned out I had contracted covid for the very first time in my life. I also realized a few days later that the day my symptoms started showing was the 9 year anniversary of my suicide attempt. Go figure. I took off the rest of the week, though I did try to work one day but felt too sick to continue. That leads us to this past week, where I having been slowly getting back to feeling better, but I continued to test positive up until Thursday, so yesterday was the first day in almost two weeks since I left my apartment. So yeah, that’s been my new year. A lot of people have been sick though, and my friend (Amanda) that I was supposed to see today has also been dealing with back-to-back illnesses in her own household. There have been some positives, mainly due to my utter determination to make big changes in my life this year. If not for my own attitude and determination, I’d feel way more dejected than I currently do. Amanda and I were supposed to see Lisa Frankenstein together, which I had invited Chris first to go see with me, but he never got back to me on it. I didn’t want to follow-up because while he said he would definitely go, a part of me knew it wasn’t a priority for him to make it happen, so as the movie date drew closer, I made plans with Amanda. I put out on Snapchat if anyone was able to go to to let me know since my friend had to cancel, and my one friend did say he could go if I changed the time, but after sleeping on it, I decided to just go alone. I really wanted to see the movie in theaters, but it’s only showing for a week, and for some reason while I originally wanted to go with someone special, albeit Chris or a good friend, in the end I just wanted to be alone. So I went to the movies by myself feeling okay, but then I left wishing I had someone *cough*Chris*cough* else there with me. The movie was so cute and it put me in a romantic sort of mood, I guess. I feel like being sick helped me not focus on too many things except maintaining a determined mindset to keep going despite current circumstances, but now that being sick is (hopefully) over, I am left with an empty feeling of sorts. I am not where I want to be, and my life currently has taken several turns that I wish it hadn’t: my friend is dead, my mental health is still a struggle, Scott has been reaching out to me again, and I’m fairly positive I somehow ruined things with Chris before they even began.

I already talked about Craig, and I don’t really have much more to say about my ADHD aside from the fact that I’m trying my best to find solutions and have only made a tiny bit of progress. I am finally getting the pharmacogenetic testing done, though it wasn’t covered fully by my insurance like I was led to believe, and I have had to wait to do it since I had covid. Nevertheless, I’m hoping it can help me find the right meds and dosage. This has been a struggle all my life, but I am determined to get to a balanced mental state where I can live as close to neurotypical as possible. It's going to happen this year because I am doing everything in my power to make it happen. I've also been researching and trying to find ways that I can help myself more. Some stuff hasn't stuck, but other things are showing potential, so I'm hopeful about that as well.

So I guess that leads us to Scott now. I was really hoping that by now this man would be completely irrelevant in my life, and for the most part, he is. The only internal connection I feel towards him is the lingering trauma I have from him, but now he keeps trying to reinsert himself into my life, which is partially my fault since I told him we could still be friends. When I told him last summer I didn’t want to try again, I made it very clear so that there was no room for him to interpret my words differently. I know that being direct is the best approach and that’s what I wanted to do since I didn’t want him to think there would ever be a chance of us happening again. Then, out of kindness, I said we could still be friends. I didn’t think he’d actually try to talk to me because he never put in much effort previously when we were in a “situationship”. (Side note: I really despise that word, but I don’t know what else to call our previous situation aside from that, so unfortunately that’s the word I have to use here.) Since then, he has occasionally responded to my snap stories when I post a selfie, sending me bitmoji stickers telling me I look good or whatever. I have always just responded with “Thanks!”, no emojis or anything beyond that, in the hopes that he will see that I truly do not have any feelings left. His birthday was back in January, and I remembered the day of, so I figured I would be nice and just tell him Happy Birthday. I should have known better, I really, really should have, but I guess I have yet to learn that being nice does not always pay off. After I wished Scott a Happy Birthday, he continued to message me, and then asked me for a selfie. Before responding, I remembered how it was a special birthday for him: it was his 50th. Then, with that knowledge, I told him no 😊. Stacy told me to send him a picture of Weasley’s butt, but he isn’t even deserving of that much. Scott then proceeded to message me for the next two Fridays asking if he could come hang out. I turned him down the first Friday by saying I had to get up the next day for Craig’s viewing and just wanted to rest and go to bed early. He didn’t know Craig had passed. I thought someone from my work would have told him since he’s still in contact with a bunch of people from there, but I guess not. Then he tried to be all supportive and whatnot, which annoyed me. He never previously gave a fuck about anything I went through and never had any kind encouragement when I was going through something. The fact that he treats me like I am some idiot is honestly what annoys me the most about him reaching out to me. I know he isn’t genuine and that he’s doing it in the hopes that eventually it will benefit him in some way. The second Friday he reached out, I told him I had Covid. He didn’t reach out yesterday, thankfully, but I do need to think about how I want to approach this if he asks again. So far, I have had legitimate excuses, but I do not know what I want to say next time. I still have his beers in my fridge; they are on my top shelf, which is as high up as it can go and therefore rarely gets used. Also, ADHD keeps me from not doing things I should do immediately, like dumping beers from a guy I used to see but no longer have any interest in reconnecting with. Actually, screw him. I’m gonna go dump them right now. Okay, I’m back. They were expired anyway, but while I was typing this I realized I truly do not want to see him again. I had toyed with the idea of just letting him come over so that I could make it clear, yet again, that I truly have zero interest in this being anything at all, but then I realized that I have already given this man so much of my time and I do not owe him any more of it. I want to work through the trauma and be able to move forward without worrying about this anymore.

This brings me around to Chris. I don’t think I’ve written about him since my last appointment, aside from posting about him telling me he’s single and that we should go out on a date. That was around mid-December. He did reach out to me when he saw me in my dress at my friend’s wedding, but beyond giving me a few compliments, he didn’t seem to have much interest in continuing the conversation. I reached out to him two times since then and pretty much got the same reaction from him. He is clearly not a phone person, which I already deducted, and that’s fine. I had tried to set up us meeting up twice so that I could get to know him better, but so far it hasn’t happened. Logically, I know it couldn’t have. It was the holiday season and then I have spent the entirety of this new year either physically sick or sick with grief, so it would have been impossible for us to meet up even if we scheduled something. Even if he really did want to see Lisa Frankenstein with me and we set it up, he might not have been comfortable being around me since I had covid, even though I tested negative two days ago. It was the way he responded to me asking him to go that has me confused, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking it. He said he would definitely be interested in seeing something like that, that it’s cool it was playing near my apartment (which I mentioned), then he said he hopes we get snow and that he hopes I have a wonderful day. It was weird. It’s nice he told me to have a wonderful day, but then I’m wondering if he said that just to end the conversation. I’m not sure. I post on my Snapchat stories about once a week or so, and I noticed he hasn’t viewed any for at least the past month. I think I’m not going to post on there for awhile until I’m sure I won’t have any anxiety about this. I don’t know how to describe how I feel except as patiently impatient. I am not a patient person, but I will wait nonetheless, and I won’t be super obvious about my impatience. I don’t want my mind to continue to circle around to Chris, but I can’t help it. It just happens. I place a lot of focus on myself and my own life and making the improvements that I need to (or well, trying to, anyway), but my heart keeps guiding my attention back towards him. I am completely enamored, even now, despite there not being much contact between us. I know it can’t happen yet because I still have a few things to sort out, but my progress on those things has been painfully slow. I keep feeling like until those things are taken care of, nothing can happen with Chris either, which frustrates me. I am not even certain whether anything can happen between us at all. I am just hoping for the best at this point.

One of the biggest barriers is my lingering trauma from Scott. Scott always made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting to talk to him or for him to come over. With Chris, this has manifested as me hesitating in reaching out too often, and it’s gotten to the point where I also feel like me reaching out is burdening or annoying him. To be clear, he hasn’t explicitly made me feel this way, he just usually doesn’t say much back to me or continue the conversations. Scott did explicitly make me feel this way. He always told me he couldn’t talk, and when I would ask him to come over, which I only ever did every few months or so, he’d hesitate and then say he was tired or whatever. It took me a long time to realize that he kept mentioning people from our work he had talked to, and then I finally saw the situation for what it was: it wasn’t that he was busy or didn’t have time, he just wasn’t making the time for me. It got to the point where I realized that I was at the very bottom of his list of priorities, coming last, behind everything and everyone else. I started to feel like he could bump into a stranger on the street and he’d make more time for them than he did for me. I don't expect to be anywhere near the top of someone's list if we're not even in a relationship, but I feel like it's okay for me to not want to be in the very last space. Scott made me feel like that was asking too much, and I haven't been able to shake that feeling despite the situationship with him ending a year and a half ago. He was only ever eager to reach out when he was horny and wanted some pictures, and those were the only times he could ever even spare me a compliment, if you could even call it that. He would just tell me I was “hot”, but I never actually felt that way. He didn’t ever make me feel pretty or valued, so his “hot” was always meaningless and unsexy. I’m glad we never had sex, at least. That probably would have done some damage too.

When Chris told me before he’s “busy”, of course my mind circled back around to all this. I always like to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I thought Chris was very much deserving of that. He was, at the time at least, the only full-time dental hygienist at his work since the other two quit, and I know he is on two hockey teams; both of these things he told me at my last appointment with him. There have been so many parallels between the two situations with them, which has been really confusing for me. I am not sure if it all has been unfortunate coincidences or if it’s really the same stuff repeating all over again. There’s been so many things that I don’t think I could remember them all even if I tried to list them all out right now. That being said, they are two completely different people, which is great for Chris. I feel like I can trust him, and I never felt that way with Scott. With Scott, the deceitfulness and the selfishness, while shocking to me at the time, lined up with who he is. I don’t know Chris that well, but being this deceitful, selfish person just doesn’t fit him. At all. I could tell from day one that he is a genuinely good guy, and that was something I felt before I was even willing to acknowledge my romantic interest in him. Also, both situations have been incredibly different as well, even despite the comparisons my mind keeps making. I want to stop thinking about it and just focus on healing. There are some meditation techniques I want to practice to help me out, and journaling is always super cathartic. So is writing poetry, but I haven’t yet gotten around to the poem I want to write to process everything with Scott. Hopefully soon.

It’s weird because I am always a what-is-this-trying-to-teach-me person, but I haven’t been able to do that in quite some time. I think I am just tired. I have been single for over 6 years now, mostly by choice to focus on improving myself, and while I haven’t regretted that choice at all, I am kind of tired of it at this point. I don’t want to just be with anyone, because that would never satisfy me, but I am ready to grow alongside someone now. I don’t think I am 100% there yet, as I’ve already mentioned, but I’m getting there. It’s just my impatience again, asking “Are we there yet?” despite there being a few more miles until we reach our exit. I really am at a loss for words on how to describe this feeling. I wouldn’t say I’m lonely because that’s not entirely accurate. It’s more of a type of yearning, I guess. I don’t know why, but I have felt this really strongly since my last appointment with Chris. It’s strange. I feel like it has probably been building since I first met him, but for whatever reason after seeing him last time, it has reached its full capacity. It is like this low hum now that is constant. I can’t turn it off. Even when I’m not thinking about Chris and am preoccupied with my day-to-day life, it is a feeling that is still there all the time. I always feel this way; even if I’m not consciously acknowledging it, it’s always there. I can’t make sense of it to be honest. I have never felt this way before and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve been asking myself recently what I can do, what lesson is here, trying to get myself back into that mindset, but the only thing I can come up with is to keep working on myself. But I’ve been doing that and it hasn’t changed anything, so then I think maybe it’s not that, but that I have to find peace on my own first. I have to shift into a certain state, and then everything will right itself. I have done that before, so I know I can do it again, it’s just that the previous time I was able to make that internal shift, it went to hell because covid happened. I didn’t build up a strong enough foundation to sustain that state while a worldwide pandemic happened and I was trapped inside 24/7 with my abusive mother. That’s understandable though, but this time I know I need to make that shift permanently, to give myself the tools and build the foundation well this time so that I can withstand anything. I won’t be immune to life’s happenings, but I will be able to face them and approach them from a place of love. I don’t want to think about the outcome of that, of whether that is the key needed to me finally moving forward romantically, but there is this part of me telling me that once I do get there again, everything will begin working out, better than I can even currently imagine. I find that once I even start thinking about any outcomes at all, I don’t even care, then I remember that any life benefits I get from that isn’t even the point. The point is my existence. The point is me reaching that place because that’s what I need, and that’s what the world needs. That’s what matters more than anything else. In those moments where I do remember that purpose, everything feels okay again. I’m going to be okay. I know I’m going to be okay.

Edits: Adding my edits down here because it's too much effort atm to go back through and find where to add them. I want to clarify a few things, the first being that saying I'm frustrated with Chris isn't entirely accurate. I don't mean that in the way it sounds. The more appropriate word would probably be "disappointed", though I guess that also doesn't sound great lol. I would feel much better about things if there was even the tiniest bit of communication. He mentioned a date, interacted with me a few more times, and now has seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. I would wait for as long as he needs, but knowing why I am waiting would help with that. I just really don't like disappearing acts, because then I start to wonder if I did something wrong, or if he lost interest, or if there's someone else, or if I'm just being ghosted. I could ask, which I briefly considered, but idk how "what's the hold up" would sound in a message. I don't want to sound impatient or pushy, especially because I am willing to wait, but leaving me completely in the dark after showing so much interest in me is also kinda a shitty thing to do. I would be understanding no matter what it is. On the flipside, I am still appreciative of this time to tie up some lose ends in my life and tackle some lingering problems that would affect me starting anything with anyone. So there is still that.

Right now more than anything, I'm frustrated with myself. So many things have been dragged out for so long, despite my determined efforts to move forward. I am trying to be more patient and understanding with myself, because honestly, I'm the person I need to give that to the most. This week I have been trying to really give myself to space to process things I haven't been able to because of all of the chaos going on since at least last summer. It's difficult, but only because it's hard to find the time right now. I fell behind on so many things since I have spent 4 out of 6 weeks this year physically sick and incapable of doing pretty much anything. I've been doubling up on trying to get stuff done, which doesn't always happen because of my ADD, but even when it does, there's still a mountain of things to take care of, more than there was previously. I feel like there's so many big things I'm trying to tackle, especially in regards to processing past traumas, which I started years ago. There has been so much trauma in my life that untangling it all, processing it, and healing it is pretty much a non-stop ongoing thing. Then there's my mental health, with me trying one medication after another to try and find something that fits, and even then, ADHD meds are so high-risk, it's a tug of war in my brain trying to determine if it's worth it. But then I see the tiniest improvements where I can function at even the smallest fraction of a how neurotypical person does, and Idk how I can ever go back to unmedicated. It makes me want to cry. I have spent my entire life battling mental illness, and there seems to be no end to trying to stabilize myself. I had my first panic attack when I was 6, then eating disorders started a few years later, then the depression, which I think was secondary to something else, then the ADD for as long as I can remember. I see very clearly how I have really never been thriving, but that's only because I spent so much of my life focused on surviving. I didn't get to start at the same starting point as many others because of my brain. And I'm tired. I'm so tired. I just sent back my swab today for my pharmacogenetic test. I'm hoping those results can help me find the better balance of meds that will work for me. I still would like to try Strattera again, but my psych wants to hold off on that for the time being. Taking natural stuff is a difficult path to navigate because I'm on a TCA, which interacts with so many things. Even the ADHD meds I can be on are very limited because of interaction risks. I need the TCA for my bladder though, so as of right now, I can't be off it. Maybe one day, but my current finances don't leave me a ton of room right now to navigate testing a ton of products to see what works and what doesn't. Plus, I'd also have to be prepared to tackle my anxiety and depression completely naturally if I went off the TCA, which I am also not currently equipped to do. Everything is just such a long process, and everything interconnects. I don't plan on staying on all these meds the rest of my life, but as of right now where I'm currently at, I really, really, really could use full functionality like I've never known before. It would help me out incredibly with so much of what I'm currently trying to get in order.

I'm also trying to implement new routines and habits, make time for things I love, and tackle decluttering, organizing, and maintaining my entire living space. I'm also doing this thing where I'm writing a new poem everyday this year, which I've somehow kept up despite the days I was really sick. Those were haiku days lol. But I also would love to speed along my more personal poems that I've been writing for forever to process past traumas. Writing poetry really helps me think over, process, and get out everything I need to, so it's a great healing tool for me. My problem is that I mull over each word, making sure everything is accurate to how things how happened, and that the overall feeling of the poem accurately captures the essence and energy of that time in my life. It's not stuff I can write in a day and be done with. Also, I overthink everything, if that wasn't already apparent lol. I think I might seriously take a vacation in March if I'm feeling mentally well enough where I know I can be healthily productive with my time off.

Anyway, I feel better adding in all these little tidbits that have been sitting on my brain that I didn't get to the first time around. I think there was more. Actually, there was definitely more, but I'm too tired right now to think or care. I'll deal with those thoughts later. Editing officially over. 😎

#yay super duper long post #personal #craig #amanda #chris #we are only like 6 weeks into the new year and it has been absolutely insane #i need like 12 vacations #back to back #i was skimming this back over and need to do some hella edits later #no one read this yet plz lol #if anyone actually does #okeeee #edits are done #added at the end

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prittyvenus · 1 year

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The Medium and the Nameless Ghouls

Case file 004-1 Omega file Rebellion

After Phil and Terzo told the truth about what happened to them in the clergy. Sara and Phil join forces with Omega to help him find the truth and her secrets. Only to find out there's a bigger threat going after Terzo and Copia. Can they find out what is happening in the Clergy?

Sara made some coffee in the kitchen. "Can you make a strong coffee for me?" Sara looks at Detective Stevens. "I'm going to need it."

"You're not the only one," Sara made two mugs of strong coffee and gave one to Detective Stevens. "Here you go."

Detective Stevens takes a sip of coffee, his eyes widen, and shakes his head. "Oh, this is strong coffee."

"It's Italian espresso, what did you expect?" She told him.

"Sara, can you explain to me in detail of what you just did in the bathroom last night?" Detective Stevens asked Sara.

Sara took a sip of coffee and answered "Terzo lost his head in the bathtub and I took photos of it like it was a crime scene." Detective Stevens glared at her. "What? You don't believe me?" Sara when to her phone and started to send pictures of the bathroom incident to his phone.

Detective Stevens looks at the pictures, "Wow, it does look like a crime scene," he scrolls down "The rag in the drain is to prevent the small pieces of evidence from going down, right?"

"Yes, that is correct." Sara answered "Didn't have a sponge, so I have to deal with what I got."

"Understood." Detective Stevens took another sip of his coffee.

Secondo transforms back into his phantom form but in a suit and tie, and without his face paint on. He plants his head on the table and gets settled into his seat.

Primo looked at Sara. "Can you give him the same thing you're having, but with an extra shot?" Sara looks at Primo.

"Please, mia cara?" Secondo whines

Sara looks in the cabinets. "I don't see an espresso maker."

"It's on the bottom shelf of the kitchen island." Primo told her.

Sara looks under the island "Oh!" Sara saw a large espresso machine and tried to get it out. "Um, can someone help me with this? It's pretty heavy." Omega helped Sara get the machine out and placed it on the counter. "Let's hope I can remember how to make an espresso shot." Sara takes it apart so she can clean the machine.

Terzo yelled, "Sara, there's an espresso pot under the cabinet where you are standing."

Sara looked down and saw a metal espresso maker for the stove. "I know how to use this." She unscrewed the pot and washed it clean. She used kitchen scissors and made a small filter. Then she poured bottled water into the bottom then placed the filter with the ground coffee.

"So, Um... Who's he?" asked Primo. "Is he a love interest?" Primo Teases.

"No, Grandpa!" Sara yelled, "He's my work partner. Detective John Stevens is a private detective for the Justice Department. Plus, he's happily married with kids." Sara started the stove and put the espresso pot on the open flame.

"Are you married, mia cara piccola?" Primo asked. "I know you must have a family by now."

"No, I... didn't go through with it," Sara said. "I arrested my ex-husband on our wedding day. A lawyer called me the day before the wedding. He missed a court date for sexual assault on a minor. If I hadn't received that phone call, my ex-husband would have used me."

Primo's jaw dropped. "La mia povera nipotina," he said as walked over to Sara. "You deserve so much better than that man." He hugged her tightly. "They are plenty of men here in the clergy that would love to be your husband."

"Grandpa!" Sara turned to Primo. "What the fuck?"

"What? I mean you’re young, you’re beautiful, you’re single."

"Please, let’s not embarrass her." Detective Stevens told Primo. "Phil, do remember anything else after you died?"

"Well..." Phil scratches his head, "I remember waking up in the summoning chamber under the cathedral as a ghoul." Phil looks at Sara. "Sara, do you remember what I said about the rebellion?"

"Yes, I do!" Sara takes the pot from the stove. "You said you helped out in a rebellion that failed."

"When was this?" Detective Stevens asked.

"It was in the hospital while I was recovering from Sergeant Davis's assault." Sara pours the espresso in the mug. "Phil was the last person to leave the room when he told me about it."

"It started after I woke up in the summoning chamber. As soon as I saw my body in this form, I screamed extremely loud. The nearby ghouls heard me and rushed into the chamber, when they saw me, that's when they knew something was wrong."

"Did anyone else see what happened in the summoning chamber?"

"No, I was alone when I woke up, which was funny because only a Papa or anyone in a higher position is only allowed to use the summoning chamber."

"How did that happen fratellino?" Primo asked.

"If you were rejected by the pits, then that means..." Secondo uses his left eye and opens his mouth. "Fratellino, pieces of your soul are missing!"

Sara used her left eye and noticed 2 purple spirit fragments inside of Phil. "Holy shit, You're right! His soul has been shattered!"

Primo, Secondo and Terzo gasped. "Language, signorina!"

"Oops, I forgot that Holy is a swear word here," Sara explained. "Sorry, Grandpa."

"You are forgiven, but don't let it happen again," Primo told Sara.

"Well, at least it's not a summoning gone wrong." Omega said, "Still, I need to know what happened. Can you tell me more?"

"When the ghouls helped me to my feet, they noticed my face. They said 'Don't worry Papa, we got you.' It was nice of them to say that. Even though I wasn't their papa anymore."

Sara brings the coffee to Secondo. "Well, the ghouls are still loyal to you. I met one in the hospital wing while I was waiting for Dewdrop's medical results. I don't know his name or number but he did tell me that he prefers you three over Copia."

"Well, when they took me to the dorms, most of the ghouls saw me and asked about what happened." Phil went to the fridge to get bottled water.

"I guess you told them everything," Sara told Phil.

"Yeah, and a lot of the ghouls blamed Sister Imperator for it." Phil takes a drink. "They even started talking about the abusive punishment they got from her."

"Wow, just thinking about it, she did do a number on the officers while she was being dragged out of the interrogation room," Sara stated.

"She must’ve been one tough woman." Said Detective Stevens.

"It didn't take long for the rumors to spread. While Copia was on tour with the selected ghouls, the others started making their first move." Phil stared down. "But we were found out because of one of our own."

"What happened? Did Sister Imperator find out?" asked Detective Stevens

Phil nods his head "She tortured one of the ghouls and he spilled everything. We found him in the dungeon with his arms and legs broken and his face cut and bruised. She captured us in one shot."

"She was merciless," Secondo said, "I didn't know she was like that. Neither of us did."

"Her family has been loyal friends of our family for centuries. I don't understand why she would do something like this?" Primo said

"There's got to be a motive. Something that would drive her to do something like this." Explained Sara.

"Of course, the ghoul was sent to the pits. She made an example of him. I was pissed, and I lashed out at her. She did beat me, but I fought back. I was soon held back by one of the ghouls. I asked her 'Why? Why did you do this to us? Why?' But she said 'Why? Ask your father Nihil, that cheating scum bag.' She told the ghouls to take me and the other ghouls to the cells of the dungeon."

Secondo and Primo pressed the temples of their forehead with their thumbs and middle fingers. "We should have known." Said Secondo.

Primo said, "Dad always has a bad habit of fooling around. Trust me, Terzo's flattery is nothing compared to our father's." Primo suggested Secondo and Terzo. "I became their big brother and father at 22."

"I bet Grandma was pissed." Sara laughed

"Oh, trust me she was furious," said Primo, "We were supposed to be wed that year, but the birth of Secondo and Terzo made us delay our wedding. It was an arranged marriage, and both sides of the wedding party were pissed."

"Wow, so dad is their nephew and brother in one shot," said Sara "I guess great-grandpa never cared." Sara finished her coffee. "I think that sucks. At least my dad cares even though he was a single father he was always there to make time for us."

Primo smiled at Sara and raised his hand to her left eye. Sara felt a strong power. "I'm giving you a piece of my power of soul healing. You are going to need it. Terzo needs you to heal his soul. You are the only one to do it."

"I'll call my dad for grandma's Neckless; the stone may help me enhance my power," Sara told Primo

Case File Closed

Case file contents

#papa emeritus iv #nameless ghouls #copia #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #phil ghoul #omega ghoul #terzo #papa popia #sister imperator #secondo #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #primo #papa emeritus i

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

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P2 A Kidnapping in Pixels

Part 1 here

(NOT A PR0MPT)

I liked the hero kidnapping villains child, will you do a second part of it? @extrabitterbrain

I think this is the one you’re talking about. In which case- yes, I will gladly continue it :)

(because I don’t know enough about the tagging situation, I’m going to give warning of...“heavy ‘bad medicine’ usage”

******

“What are the alarms going off for?” Hero asked Sidekick.

The two were at a desk, overlooking screens. Sidekick sat in a chair with poor back support while Hero stood as a semi-circle.

“I don’t know. All the cameras are off.”

They weren’t off. If the cameras were off then the monitors would be pitch black, not fuzzy grey. Fuzzy grey meant the cameras were busted somehow- still connected by a wire, but not working.

“What order did they go out in?” The sequence of their outage would tell them where whatever was causing the problem was going. Maybe it was a pesky raccoon.

Sidekick shrugged. “I didn’t get here until right before you did. We never have problems with the cameras here. You think the kid did it?”

With a scoff, Hero straightened out. The kid was in a room playing with cards and trying to make a tower of them. And after that, she’d be toying with magnets, trying to understand why, when she put them together, they wouldn’t cling. She wouldn’t know that opposites attract. “The kid’s occupied.”

“Villain?”

“We just took the kid. He wouldn’t be back for her already.”

“Unless he cares about her…and I do.”

It didn’t take Hero or Sidekick a moment to twist their heads to the doorway, to Villain- who was currently tugging his sleeve down his wrist, tidying it.

“How did you-” Sidekick started, but Villain was quick to cut them off.

“You have my child. If you take me to her, I’ll be swift in taking your heads. Otherwise, you can have fun breathing in a washing machine while your limbs are swimming around you.”

Sidekick’s eyes bulged at the threat, unsure of Villain’s seriousness.

Hero didn’t seem to mind the threat. “She’s safer with us. Why else would we have taken her?” So, she’d admit that she kidnapped Villain’s child, and she’d be even more stupid to defend herself for it.

The nonchalant attitude filled Villain with such a fury, he was surprised his hand didn’t shoot out to choke either person in front of him. This was his child, his life and blood.

“You’re really going to believe that when I’m finished with you.” Villain had a thirst for blood now. And at this point, he wouldn’t have cared if his daughter walked into the room and witnessed the bloodshed. Someday, she would understand. She’d remember the terror of being stolen and missing her father. She’d remember the way her father came to save the day. Villain wasn’t a hero to nearly anyone, but he would be to his little girl.

You think she’s worse off with us?” Hero questioned with a short laugh. “I’m sorry, but that’s a real funny joke you suggested. You can’t possibly think a drug dealer can have a child and expect to be able and care for her.”

“Do you know why I sell drugs, Hero? Why it’s so necessary for me to?”

No, she didn’t, and no excuse he came up with would mean anything. The kid wasn’t even five years of age yet. How would she feel years from now when she learned her own father ruined life after life after life? If she even survived that long. Being a drug dealer for long enough would eventually make Villain a target instead of a provider. Someone might very well kidnap Villain’s daughter for more sinister reasons than what Hero was.

“When her mother died, all the money went to, not me- with her own damn child- but her sister. We had nothing, Hero. This was my only option. Lives lived and lost be damned. I’m saving my little girl no matter what I have to do.”

“You’re going to get her killed.”

“I’m saving our lives,” Villain persisted, and he turned his back on his so-called enemies.

Sidekick said, “We want to help you, Villain. You and your daughter.” But he wasn’t listening to them. He was staring down the hall, head turned, silent. Then there was a sniffle.

“I don’t just sell them,” Villain said, then paused, and paused, and paused…

“You use them?” Hero guessed- to which Villain nodded slowly.

He faced Hero and Sidekick once again. “Keep her, but please- please make sure she knows her daddy’s trying. I didn’t mean to become this person, Hero, Sidekick.”

“We know.” Sidekick nodded, eyes squinted in an attempt to prevent their emotions from peaking out. “We’re going to help you be the dad your daughter deserves.”

******

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 4 years

Text

Types of love - Jin Drabble ft Jungkook {fluff + angst} Housemate au

You hear a deep sigh beside you as you take out the laundry from the washing machine.

“Noona what are you doing?” Jungkook sounds exasperated with you and it’s only 7 in the morning.

“Jin’s got a meeting at 12, I told him I’d get his clothes ready for him,” you grin brightly at your youngest housemate.

“Why can’t Hyung do it?” He doesn’t return the smile.

“He wanted a lie in.”

There’s that sigh again but you ignore it, it made you feel a little shame that you tried to push down.

“Okay new question,” you could see him pinch the bridge of his nose from the coroner of your eye as you put the clothes in the dryer. “Why are you doing it?”

You shrug, “he’s been busy and I just though-”

“Noona,” cold judgy eyes came from the maknae.

“Kookie leave it, I’m doing it because I want to,” your sunny outlook on today was suddenly dampened by the annoying brat following you.

“He’s taking advantage of you and your feelin-”

“Kook I said leave it!”

You slam the door as you walk out.

——————————————————————————

It was no secret to anyone that you may have feelings for the oldest of your housemates, even though you’ve never ever said it out loud. Your actions spoke for you. You always went the extra mile due to your unrequited affection, but you didn’t mind, you were always taught to love without limits and you swore you did what you did without expecting anything in return. He was just so handsome and funny, you were happy just to be his friend, even if your heart hoped to be something more, you couldn’t help it. Maybe he did sometimes take a little advantage of you? But truly you were to blame for that and you took full responsibility.

You and Jin ignored the way Jungkook was staring daggers at him as you brought him his tea with some cakes to the table when he got back from a long day of work.

“How was work Jin?” You asked.

“Perks of being son of the CEO, everyone offered to do my work for me,” cue the windshield wiper laughter you loved to hear. “The new girl on my floor slipped me her number, it was a pretty good day.”

Your heart sank and with it your smile, you forced it to stay on as he rambled about his day and the pretty new girl, if they both could see your discomfort they didn’t say anything.

Jin wasn’t oblivious he just didn’t care, Jungkook on the other hand now watched your reactions like a hawk.

“It may not be the most professional thing to do as her potential new boss but I may have agreed to drinks Friday night,” he chortles, his spiel coming to an end.

“You’re not taking over the business any time soon Hyung, hold your horses,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Wait Friday?” You suddenly speak after staying quiet. “Jin we’re all supposed to go for dinner Friday, we booked the table and everything.”

The three of you reserved dinner at the same place every year on the anniversary of you all moving in, it was an important night for you, you three were always so busy or tired so nights out were rare. Plus Jin was always so busy, he was either at work or at the gym or sleeping or out, the housemate anniversary was the only real time you got to spend with him.

“Y/n I think you missed the part of the story where I told you she was hot,” he argues with what he thinks is sound logic.

“Jin it’s the housemate anniversary, it’s sacred are you seriously ditching us for some random girl?”

“It’s not a big deal Y/n, hoes before bros you know?” he laughs at his own stupid joke and for the first time it irritates you a little.

“Not your bro Jin,” you grit your teeth.

“You might as well be Y/n, you’re not exactly the girliest girl ever,” he responds.

“Hyung,” Jungkook warns, finally butting in after watching your discussion like a tennis match.

You sit back in shock, did he seriously bro zone you? What the hell!

“Noona is pretty Hyung, stop being mean,” young Kookie comes to your defence when you fail to speak.

“Oh no I’m not saying she’s not, she’s just not my type,” why the hell was he talking about you like you weren’t there, he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. You sit deflated with you head low, biting back tears. Jin didn’t notice, when did he ever, Jungkook did.

“I think that’s enough.”

Jungkook was right, that was enough, you stood up to leave without uttering another word to them both. Once he heard your door close, Jungkook unleashed hell.

“What the hell hyung! Are you trying to upset her on purpose?” He seethed in a hush tone. “You know how she feels about you what the hell was that?”

“God Kookie don’t start on me it’s been a long day, it’s fun to pick on her a little, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you hurt her feelings,” Jungkook says a little louder still trying to control the rage he felt at the man sitting in nonchalance while he had his fists formed and jaws clenched. Jin shrugged his shoulders and Jungkook wondered what happened to his good friend, he was never like this before.

“Hyung you take advantage on her all the time, she literally does everything for you because she cares about you without expecting anything in return and you treat her like shit,” he explains, “it has to stop.”

“I don’t know why you’re lecturing me you brat,” Jin rolls his eyes, “I’m older than you by 5 years, learn some respect.”

Jungkook walked away before he laid his fist into his friend and lived to regret it, he didn’t realise you heard every word.

——————————————————————————

“Is he seriously not coming?”

It was stupid to hope that Jin would make an appearance while you both waited for him at home dressed and ready. He still hadn’t come from work... he finished two hours ago. You weren’t upset because you liked Jin, you were upset because you thought at least you meant something as a friend. Jin and Jungkook became what you thought were best friends for you, regardless of stupid feelings, you just thought they felt the same.

Jungkook stood next to your sitting form, moving his weight from foot to foot.

“I don’t think he is Noona, he said he wasn’t going to,” Jungkook sighed. “Why are we still waiting, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

He hated seeing you sad, if he could punch some sense into Jin he would, hell he’d punch him anyway for making you look so downcast. He sighs deeply again, throwing his head back in exasperation.

He kneels down in front of you, taking you hands into his as you look up slightly to meet his gaze. He has stars in his eyes, you think, why hadn’t you noticed before?

“Noona should we just cancel?” He asks delicately. “We can go get our pjs and order an Indian and have a stupid movie night.”

He was really trying to make things better you could feel it, your blatant emotions for his friend must’ve made him feel so uncomfortable but he’s still trying for you. You offer him a small smile.

“Sounds great Kookie,” you say sincerely.

——————————————————————————

“Oh my god are you kidding me!” Jungkook says half seriously yelling at you. “Iron man is way better than Batman.”

You laugh out so loud, you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

“I didn’t mean it Koo,” you say between breaths of laughter. “You’re just so cute!”

He fights the red feeling blooming in his face as he pokes the inside of cheek with his tongue in faux annoyance. Jungkook was loving your impromptu movie night, it was the first time in forever you didn’t mention he who must not be named.

“That’s just cruel, you don’t joke about iron man, it’s blasphemy,” his words make you laugh harder and it makes him break out in a big grin, one that wipes away as you both hear the keys turn.

Jin was not expecting you both curled up on the sofa with take away containers on the coffee table when he walked home from a rather boring date. Your laughter dies in your throat before he even walked into the room, eyes boring into the tv. Jungkook keeps his arm around you in place, he felt warm and comfortable he didn’t want this feeling to end.

“Good date Hyung?” He doesn’t know why he asked when he could feel you stiffen in his hold.

“Yeah,” he says a little dazed at the sight in front of him. “did you guys not go out?”

“Nah we stayed in and had a iron man marathon,” the bunny teeth were out as he grinned.

“I lost Rock Paper Scissors,” you offered meekly. Why did you feel like you were cheating on Jin? That was ridiculous, you were not dating Jin and you were just friends with Jungkook, right? “Wanna join?”

He shakes his head, “no you guys look like you’re having fun, plus I’m a bit tired so I’m going to head to bed.”

You normally offer him some tea and cake at this point, but you stay silent, Jin tries not to read into why it makes his chest feel heavy with disappointment and something else he can’t quite figure out.

——————————————————————————

You were laughing loudly again, it was irritating the broad shouldered man to no end, he didn’t mind the sound honestly, he just hated the reason why you were in this state. Jungkook was making faces at you while you both cooked and honestly Jin couldn’t understand why you found it so funny.

“You look like a meme!” You chortle.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Jin interrupts.

“Patience Hyung,” Jungkook doesn’t break eye contact with you, still smiling brightly. He’s so pretty when he smiles, you felt like you hadn’t seen it for a while before your movie night.

“Are you two dating?” Jin slams his laptop shut in his outbreak, he didn’t mean to ask but it came out anyway. You nearly drop the plate you’re holding but Jungkook catches it before you let it go. Now your both holding a plate while staring at each other wide eyed, while Jin gawks at you both with a quiet anger simmering away inside of him.

Why are you both blushing furiously? Jungkook is the first to break away as he stares his Hyung down with his own anger.

“So what if we are?” He asks. “I don’t think it’s any of your business either way.”

“Jungkook...” you frown, you were not dating, why didn’t he just say no... why didn’t you just say no?

Jin scoffs, he couldn’t really say anything to that but it pissed him off.

“I didn’t realise you were into toy boys Y/n,” he jeers.

Now you were frowning at Jin as Jungkook started to shake with rage.

“I could treat her a lot better than you ever could,” he seethes back.

“You’re still a kid Jungkookie, Y/n always treats you like one,” did he seriously not hear the irony in his words?

“That’s enough!” It’s you that breaks up the inane argument. “Jungkook is not a kid Jin, just because he’s young and nice doesn’t make him any less of a man than you.”

They’re both shocked at your outburst.

“He’s been a wonderful friend to me for years, he’s always had my back, always looked out for me even when I was being a stupid idiot pining after you!”

The youngest of the trio can feel his chest full with warmth at your words and the way your glaring at the oldest with such disdain he never thought he’d see. Jin stays quiet at your onslaught starting to feel shame as he reflected on how he’s treated you through the years. He used to really adore you too, really appreciated everything you did for him but when everyone at work started treating him the same it became a normalcy, something expected instead of a gift.

“I’d be so lucky if Kookie dated me, although he’d be out of his mind to after how pathetic I’ve been, he’s the best guy I know, don’t speak to him like that.”

Jungkook can’t help the small smile fighting to turn the corners up on his mouth, Jin doesn’t miss the way he looks at you, full of love. You were an idiot not to see it, it had been there for a while.

“Noona, the pastas burning...”

You turn back to the stove feeling the heat in your face from your rant, you didn’t expect it from yourself to be honest. Jungkook stood beside you, mixing the sauce in the other pan while the room sat in silence.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you, couldn’t help the hope in his heart build, maybe you felt the same way about him too. Maybe this is what redamancy feels like.

You try to sneak a peak at the man standing next to you, surprised to see his eyes already on you, you feel your heart stop for a second before it restarted anew.

You return his smile, you can’t help it.

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itrytowrite-things · 4 years

Text

Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy)

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out.

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help?

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now.

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago.

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast.

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass.

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device.

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink.

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy.

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me.

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately.

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend.

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula?

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek.

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said, rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.”

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background.

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face.

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face.

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls.

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me.

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips.

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven.

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him.

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly.

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back.

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle.

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food.

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here.

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?”

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?”

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday.

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils.

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever.

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