#I know it's my fault for letting myself be used

[gloomskulls]

YELP REVIEWS [tasm!peter parker x reader]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

warning(s): none

summary: a fan decided to make an unofficial yelp page for spider man as a joke. A lot of clients...or citizens had so much to say.

A/n: Just a random short fluff. I'll go back doing dark stories once I feel like it. I haven't really used Yelp, but my friend gave me this idea lol, so credit to Angelina lol. Don't steal this coz I'll shave your head.

Peter slumped on the couch scrolling through his phone. He frowned intensely and tapped a link you had just sent him, headlined as "Spider-Man Yelp Reviews"

You leaned against the door with a stifled grin. "Found it while looking at reviews for that new pizza place. Thought you'd get a kick out of the comments from your…clients."

Peter groaned. "Clients? I'm not running a business. What is this?"

Thumbing through the reviews, he cycled through disbelief, frustration then finally wounded pride.

2 stars

"He saved me from a mugger, but he sailed so quickly I didn't even manage to get the chance to say than you. Really rude."

3 stars

"I appreciate the help...however, he left me dangling from a lamppost for 20 minutes until the cops arrived. You could have just dropped me on the ground bro."

4 stars

"Brilliant rescue, but my phone screen got cracked when he yanked me into a speeding car. Thanks, I guess"

Peter threw his head back, exasperated. "Cracked phone screens? I'm sorry, Janet, would you prefer to have been hit by the car?"

"Peter, this is gold," you dropped beside him taking the phone to scroll further. "Ooh, look at this one!"

1 star

“I yelled for Spider-Man to come help me when my cat was stuck in a fire escape. He didn’t show. What’s the worth of a superhero when they won’t even help the little guy from time to time?”

"That wasn't even a crime," Peter exclaimed with hands thrown up. "What do people expect me to do run a cat rescue hotline?"

"I mean…isn't helping people your whole thing? Even the little guys? Or, in this case, little cats?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, I'm loving it." You scrolled to another review.

3 stars

"Got my purse back after it was snatched, but when he handed it to me, he just said, 'Here ya go,' and left. No photo, no autograph. Kinda rude."

"Oh no, Peter, how dare you not stay for selfies mid-crime fighting?" You snickered.

Peter dragged a hand down his face. "Am I supposed to throw a meet and greet after every mugging? Should I bring merch? Web-slingers for kids? Spider-Man action figures?"

You wiggled your eyebrows. "Don't tempt me to start a side hustle."

He shook his head, scrolling further. His eyes widening in disbelief at the review.

1 star

"I yelled for Spider-Man to help me with my groceries. He didn't show up. Ended up dragging six bags up five flights of stairs by myself. What's even the point of having a superhero if he doesn't help the little people?"

Peter let out a strangled laugh. "Groceries? I have to save people from groceries now?"

"Be honest," you teased. "If you would have heard her, would you help?"

He hesitated. "…I mean, maybe. If I wasn't busy."

"Softie," you said, poking his cheek. "You're gonna carry someone's Costco haul one day; I just know it."

Peter groaned louder and clicked on another review, muttering, "It can't get worse. It can't possibly—"

0 stars

"Spider-Man swung by my building and broke my balcony railing. Now my landlord's charging me for repairs. Thanks, webhead."

"Oh," you managed a stifled laugh. "Isn't that the guy from your last patrol? You know, the one who yelled at you when you were chasing that car thief?"

Peter buried his face into his hands. "It's not my fault that balconies are so flimsy in the city. It's very hard to swing around without hitting something."

You patted his shoulder soothingly. "Don't worry, hero. I'm sure you'll get your Yelp rating up again. Maybe even start a loyalty program? Save five, get a free coffee?"

Peter shot you a look, betraying irritation and amusement. "You're impossible." You just grinned menacingly at his words.

"Hey, look at this one," you said, stealing the phone and scrolling to a five-star review, finally. "Finally, some love."

5 stars

“Spider-Man saved my dog from traffic. My girlfriend thinks he's cute. I do too, honestly. Would let him rescue me any day.”

He blinked. "What…what does that even mean?!"

"It means you’re the city’s hottest, most eligible bachelor,” you said, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Even dogs are falling for you. Can't blame them."

He rubbed his temples. “I think I need to retire. Or move to a quieter city. Do they need Spider-Man in, like, Ohio? Whadoyo think baby?”

You smiled and opened the Yelp app. “There, there, hero. I’ll fix your reputation." You assured him as you patted his back

Peter leaned over, squinting as you typed. “What are you— '5 stars. Spider-Man is amazing. Handsome. Athletic. Definitely has a great butt' Babe!" He read out everything you typed for him as you clicked the submit button

You winked. "Just telling the truth. Besides, if you're going to be stuck here, you might as well be a five-star hero."

"Unbelievable," he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Romantic Ending Ch. 22

Chapter 21 His Side Story

Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

Azel: He tortured my brothers with a smile, saying it was all for the sake of God.

Azel: Since then, Enis has been unable to defy our father and no longer sees me as his brother.

Azel: My other brother was the mastermind behind the escape plan. He was exiled.

(Could it be that the other brother is...?)

The gentle aura vanished from the apostle's expressionless face, leaving behind a "nothingness" devoid of mercy or compassion.

Kamal let go of my hand, which he had been holding, and his shoulders shook with laughter.

Kamal: I guess even you can't stay calm when facing the enemy of God.

Apostle: ...I see.

Apostle: I can't believe that the Living God, the miracle diviner, didn't foresee this commotion.

Apostle: The fact that he's still remaining silent despite knowing the guaranteed reality...

Apostle: Was it caused by the instigation of the great sinner?

Kamal: Now, who knows? At least I'm not the mastermind.

Kamal: I simply told that innocent child that there was no need to live as a slave.

Kamal: God isn't a doll you can play with as you please.

Apostle: ...It's my fault.

The apostle brought the smile back to his face and looked up at the dry sky.

It was a different kind of smile, one that sent a chill down my spine and made me unconsciously brace myself.

Apostle: I was young back then. I spared you with exile out of the Living God's mercy...

Apostle: I should have burned the great sinner at the stake, even if it pained my heart.

(He's... insane.)

The apostle's mind was so consumed by his lofty faith that there was no room for normal human emotions.

This sense of dissonance, like we were in the same place but seeing different worlds, might be the true nature of the fear I'd felt towards the apostle since our first meeting.

Apostle: Let us atone for the sin now. That's the least I can do to make amends.

Apostle: If we destroy the wicked sinner who is misleading His Holiness, the Living God will surely find peace of mind.

(There's no way he can be at peace when his brother is being sentenced to death.)

(The person who disrespects the Living God the most in this country is undoubtedly the apostle.)

Kamal: It's all well and good to boast, but do you intend to capture me with just you, old man, and a few young men?

Kamal: I've worked as a mercenary, you know?

Apostle: Kamal, can you see that?

The apostle, with an unwavering smile, directed his gaze towards a rising cloud of dust.

It wasn't caused by the wind, but by people treading on the sand, creating a curtain of dust that took my breath away.

Silvio: ...I thought they might come, but that's a hell of a lot of people.

(The people of the city have come seeking salvation from God.)

The people who surged from beyond the sand dunes gradually began to gather in front of the temple.

But God wasn't here.

Instead, the apostle stepped forward and stood on a raised platform.

The people looked up at the apostle and fell silent.

Apostle: Everyone, the Living God is not here.

Apostle: I regret to inform you that God has fallen into the hands of a great sinner.

(No way...!)

Apostle: We, the believers of the moon, must punish the sinner and rescue God from the impure land.

With a sorrowful expression like an actor on stage, the apostle pointed at Kamal.

Apostle: That person over there is the great sinner who once kidnapped the Living God and filled his mind with wicked ideas.

Apostle: They are also the mastermind behind this recent turmoil.

The look in the people's eyes changed.

From the eyes of the weak seeking salvation, to the eyes of justice filled with hostility.

Apostle: Everyone, please lend me your strength. Let us rescue God with our own hands.

The judgment of the people who worshiped God was swift.

Without doubting the apostle's words, they surged towards the great sinner.

(I have to protect Kamal!)

Silvio: Hey, what are we goin' to do!?

Kamal: Of course, we're going to run! I'm a delicate girl!

Kamal also turned his back without hesitation, but before that, the people at the front picked up the remains of the ruins.

Emma: Watch out!

I threw myself forward to protect Kamal from the thrown debris.

Emma: ...Ouch.

Kamal: Emma!?

It hit my shoulder and fell to the ground before it could reach Kamal.

(It hurts... but I can bear it...)

Emma: I'm alright, so hurry...!

Kamal: You bastards! I'll **** every single one of you!

(He suddenly changed...!? )

Just as I heard a torrent of verbal abuse so vile that my ears refused to process it, Kamal shattered his beautiful façade and started cracking his knuckles with a ferocious expression.

Silvio: Idiot, get the hell out of here! Things will get out of hand if you stay!

Prince Silvio stopped Kamal, who looked like he was about to charge in, by grabbing him by the scruff of his neck.

Kamal: Let go! I can't forgive them!

Silvio: This isn't about forgivin' or not forgivin', just put your weak woman disguise back on, it's troublesome!

Emma: Both of you, hide!

We split left and right, diving for cover to avoid the incoming debris from the ruins.

The two of them, hiding in a different place from me, were still arguing.

(Please, just run—)

As I was about to shout, something reached out from behind and covered my mouth.

(No way!?)

Emma: Mmm—!

???: Don't struggle, it's me.

(What...? This voice, is it Prince Azel?)

(...)

(Prince Azel!?)

I turned my head while my mouth was still covered, and there he was, Prince Azel.

(It's not a dream... is it?)

Azel: Don't make a sound, okay?

The black God I saw in my hazy memory was staring into the distance.

Kamal and Prince Silvio were in his line of sight, and they had the same surprised look on their faces as I did, but they quickly nodded and left.

The people, who could only see the great sinner, didn't notice that the God they worshipped was nearby.

Azel: Can you walk?

Emma: Yes, but shouldn't we help Kamal?

Azel: Did it look like he needed help?

(...Maybe not...)

Prince Azel, blending into the dust clouds to avoid the people's eyes, put his hand on my back and started walking.

Not towards the entrance of the temple—but towards the back.

-

Emma: Ah, this place!

There was a door at the back of the temple that blended into the outer wall. Climbing the unlit stairs from this hidden back entrance, which you would never find unless you knew about it, led to this space.

(It really wasn't a dream. The rubble in the hallway was Prince Azel's doing.)

Emma: You tricked me.

Azel: It's your fault for being tricked.

Prince Azel, who readily admitted it, nonchalantly unbuttoned my blouse.

Emma: W-What are you doing!?

Azel: Do I have to explain everything?

Emma: Of course I wouldn't know!?

Holding my half-open blouse, I retreated to the corner of the room.

(I didn't expect to be suddenly undressed in a place like this, an enclosed room with no one around!)

Emma: Shameless God...

Azel: Don't misunderstand. Even if a natural disaster occurred, there's no way I would attack you.

Prince Azel sighed and took a wooden box from a shelf in the room. As I cautiously approached, I saw it contained medical supplies like medicine and bandages.

(...I wonder how long Prince Azel was watching...)

Azel: Do you understand now?

Emma: ...I'm sorry, thank you.

Emma: But, it's not that big of a wound.

Azel: Oh my, to know without even seeing it, your insight is quite impressive.

The God smiled gently and mercifully, then grabbed my shoulder forcefully.

Emma: Gah... Oww...!

Azel: It's not that big of a wound, is it?

(...It hurts... I'm going to cry...)

When I shook my head, he pinched my cheek.

Azel: Hurry up and take it off and sit down. I don't understand why you're so hesitant.

(...That's right. Common sense doesn't apply to Prince Azel.)

Although his words were curt, I couldn't ignore the concern that seeped through them. Suppressing my embarrassment, I sat down on the chair and took off my blouse, exposing my shoulder.

(Oh dear...)

My skin was discolored and swollen, almost too much to look at directly.

(I can't believe it was this bad.)

Azel: Those foolish people... I'll **** them...

(...I think I heard some more dirty, unspeakable curses.)

Prince Azel frowned and left the room, returning shortly with a wet linen cloth. When I winced at the cold sensation enveloping the affected area, he let out a huge sigh above my head.

Azel: It's your own fault. Not to mention the foolish people, but you're also to blame for playing hero.

Emma: ...This is the first time I've been scolded for helping someone.

Azel: Were you taught that it's a virtue?

Azel: Helping someone is something you do when you're absolutely sure you're safe and have the leeway to do so.

Azel: You may have felt refreshed by helping, but the person being helped doesn't feel the same way.

(...My body just moved on its own, but I understand what Prince Azel is trying to say.)

Azel: Don't ever do that again, absolutely never. Are you trying to stop my heart?

Emma: I'm sorry...

Emma: ...Was your heart about to stop?

Azel: .......

Azel: It's common for one's heart to stop when faced with such unprecedented stupidity.

Emma: It's not.

Azel: More importantly, can you raise your arm?

(...He's back to his usual self.)

(The situation in the city has changed, Prince Azel's plans have been revealed, and I was anxious until we met again...)

(The God I've seen all along, the one who's not honest with his words but is a good person at heart, wasn't an illusion.)

I swallowed the words that were overflowing and tried to raise my arm as I was told.

It was excruciatingly painful.

Emma: ...I... I can't...

Azel: You might have broken a bone.

Prince Azel took something like an ointment from the box and skillfully applied it to the discolored area.

During that time, silence fell between us—and finally, my mind began to work properly again.

(I can't be distracted by the pain. Now's the time to ask.)

Emma: Prince Azel... why were you hiding?

Azel: If you found me, the interrogation game would start, wouldn't it?

Emma: That's right.

Azel: ...Could you please show some restraint?

(Prince Azel was probably watching us from somewhere...)

(And he had to come out because I got hurt.)

The more the God's compassion grew, the more the pain intensified, even reaching my chest.

Emma: Please tell me. What's going to happen in Tanzanite?

Emma: What do you want to do?

Azel: Why should I have to explain to an outsider?

His words, sharp and dismissive, left me speechless.

Emma: It's because I'm worried, of course.

Azel: I don't care.

Azel: Besides, you've mostly grasped the situation even without me explaining, haven't you?

Emma: The situation, yes...

(Let's try to organize the events that have happened.)

Emma: The disturbance that Basil caused, shaking the people's faith, led to the attempted assassination of the apostle.

Emma: It seems the apostle is unharmed, but the forces claiming "the death of God" are clashing with the soldiers.

Emma: When I left the city, Basil was rescued by his allies and headed towards the sanctuary.

Emma: The sanctuary is a symbol of faith, so perhaps they intend to take it over.

Emma: Assuming we call Basil and his group the anti-god forces, they have instilled anxiety in the people of the city.

Emma: The people are now hoping that God will grant them salvation.

Emma: However, Prince Azel is hiding, making a statement that "God will not help people."

Emma: Although the apostle has claimed that there's a great sinner who instigated Prince Azel...

Emma: The fact that "God has betrayed the people" will eventually spread among them.

Emma: If God won't help them, they have no choice but to manage on their own.

Emma: Making them think that way is Prince Azel's true aim...

Emma: Isn't your goal to make them take the first step towards a world where they can live without God?

Prince Azel quietly listened as he buttoned my blouse back up and wrapped a bandage around it.

It seemed to be a measure to prevent me from moving my shoulder, as my arm was also immobilized.

Azel: If you understand that much, there's no need to ask any further.

(Some of what I said was speculation, but overall... I was right.)

Emma: The important thing is that this whole series of events is "god-killing."

Emma: Now that it's been proven that the space I saw wasn't a dream...

Emma: I can't just stand by and watch because it "doesn't concern me."

Azel: ......

Emma: This isn't like you, Prince Azel. To risk your own life for the sake of others...

Azel: Who said I was risking my life for the sake of others?

Emma: ...You're not?

(If that's not it, then that's fine. I want it to be that way.)

Azel: I'm dying for my own sake.

My faint hope crumbled like grains of sand.

Azel: I told you, didn't I? I'm their slave.

Azel: All the successive Living Gods have been the same. Forced to perform divination their entire lives, forced to determine the fate of the people.

Azel: I heard there was once a God who ran away because he hated being a slave.

Azel: But the humans desperately brought him back and bound him to the sanctuary.

Azel: No one tries to listen to our will.

(I've seen that situation myself.)

Azel: Of course, it's not entirely the humans' fault. If the sins of the royal family, which I mentioned before, created this situation...

Azel: Then humans are also victims in a sense.

(Prince Azel...)

Azel: And, the Living God is also human.

Azel: Except for the hair color, eye color, and seeing other people's dreams, we're no different from anyone else.

(...So that's how it is.)

(There were traces of studying in the wide variety of books in Prince Azel's room.)

(But if he could see the future with a mysterious power, there would be no need to study.)

(Because he's an ordinary human, I wonder how much effort he's put in behind the scenes to give accurate oracles.)

I remembered the oracles that Prince Azel wrote night after night.

—A feeling of dejection washed over me.

Azel: That's why God is going to die.

Azel: To sever ties with humanity.

After putting away the medical supplies, Prince Azel sat down next to me.

His voice, his expression, the unwavering will I felt in them, brought a heat to my eyes.

Azel: It's a good thing for them too, isn't it?

Azel: The age of God is over, and the age of man is coming.

Azel: They can only become creatures called "true humans" when they can think and act for themselves.

Azel: ...God has taken away their ability to think. It's something that a Living God must eventually return.

(...Is this Prince Azel's form of revenge, or is it mercy?)

(Maybe it's both.)

What lay there wasn't a senseless death, but the death of conviction, wagering the future of the entire nation.

Even though I knew it was something I couldn't persuade him against, my mouth moved.

Emma: ...There's a flaw in your plan, Prince Azel.

Azel: For example?

Emma: The Living God is born in Tanzanite in a certain cycle, right?

Emma: That means... there must have been a "time without God."

Emma: Weren't they worshipping an idol god during those times, regardless of the presence of the Living God?

(Even if you risk your life, I don't think their divination-dependent mentality will change.)

Azel: You really are quick-witted, aren't you?

The God, resigned to his death, laughed and started toying with my cheek as if out of habit.

Azel: You're right, there's no point in just dying.

Azel: As long as the moon exists in this world, the God who is its incarnation won't disappear.

Azel: Therefore, I need to be particular about how I die.

Azel: The moon will leave the people, and God will never be born again. Oracles will cease, and the guaranteed reality will never return.

Azel: Only when the entire nation recognizes that God has "completely disappeared" can God truly die.

Emma: That's unreasonable. No matter how capable you are, Prince Azel, no one can erase the moon.

Emma: Won't it be a pointless death?

Azel: That's what the "plan" is for.

(Does that mean he has a chance of winning?)

Prince Azel wouldn't elaborate any further.

But his expression was full of confidence, and it seemed difficult to dissuade him.

Emma: ...Then, assuming that plan succeeds...

Emma: Wouldn't it be better to fake your death?

Emma: If it's just to show that God is gone, there's no need to actually die.

Azel: You read too many books.

Azel: Faking a death is more difficult than you think. It's not something you can do so easily.

Azel: Especially in my case, my appearance is distinctive. I can't just replace my corpse with another.

Emma: ...Then...

Emma: How about disappearing instead of dying?

Emma: If you seek asylum in another country, no one will know whether God is safe or not.

Emma: Rhodolite, for example... I recommend it. The roses are beautiful, and there's a lot of delicious food.

Emma: So...

*flashback*

Emma: Prince Azel's appearance would stand out in other countries too.

Emma: Even if he could disguise his hair color, there's no way to hide those eyes.

Emma: Even if he faked his death and escaped, there's a high chance he'd be found.

Silvio: The country that sheltered him would be pickin' a fight with Tanzanite. Your point makes sense.

*flashback over*

Azel: You understand, don't you?

Even if I presented other futures, I couldn't arrive at the best answer that could persuade Prince Azel—

All that remained was despair at the unchangeable ending.

Emma: My debt... what will happen to it?

Azel: Please donate it to this temple.

Emma: ...Doesn't it get written off when you die?

Azel: No way. The world isn't that generous.

Azel: I'm very particular about collecting money.

Emma: .........

(I don't know whether to be angry or cry anymore.)

(What should I do?)

(Is it arrogant of me to want to stop his death?)

(To know Prince Azel's convictions and feelings, and still try to trample on them...)

(What's the difference between that and what other people have done to God?)

My vision blurred, and I desperately tried to hold back the tears.

Crying wouldn't change anything, and it would only trouble Prince Azel.

Azel: Ah... alright, alright, I'll write it off. You're happy now, right?

Emma: That's not it. It's just...

Emma: ...It's painful.

*flashback*

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and desires to know it.

???: Love isn't all that great.

???: Sometimes, it's better to end your life as the innocent you, without knowing anything.

*flashback over*

(...I didn't know.)

(...I didn't know it would be this painful.)

It might be too immature to call it love yet, but I realize that this isn't a feeling you have for a complete stranger.

The moment I inhaled to calm myself, my vision went completely dark—

.

.

.

Romantic Ending Ch. 23

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[fanficsbysteve]

The Key to my Heart

Note: Well, here’s an idea that I had, and it took me all of 3 hours to write. I wasn’t the hugest fan of the way things ended for Buck and Tommy so what you will read now is how I imagine it should have gone if the writers weren’t going for maximum shock value.

Also available on AO3 if you want to leave me some kudos there.

W/C: 1574

Rating: PG for some implied sexy times near the end.

***

Tommy sat and stared at the pictures of Evan and Abbie on his phone. Pics of them together, pictures of them kissing, everything. Tommy wouldn’t be shocked if there were some not so safe for work pictures on this phone of Abbie and Evan. Tommy’s mind was going a mile a minute, trying not to think too far into it. He had left Abbie by this point; he didn’t know Evan at this point either. He couldn’t fault them for being together. He couldn’t dictate who each of them slept with or had a relationship with just like he didn’t think anyone had any right to telling him and Evan about their relationship.

Evan was talking to Tommy, something about admiration. Tommy felt his heart dropping. Did Evan actually see him? Did Evan actually know anything about him? This was the man who spent a day and a night researching a cowboy dead 100 years, but didn’t know the Kinsey Scale, and had forgotten that he was 100% gay. Tommy tried to tune into what Evan was talking about, “So I thought, why be apart when we can be together,” Tommy felt his heart sinking further at this. Evan was jumping ahead. Tommy didn’t know how to handle this. He had been in this place before, he had been the person jumping ahead before and it never ended well, “So I wanted to give you this.”

Tommy was confused. This was not what he thought was going to happen. Evan was reaching into his pocket and came out with a key, “What’s this?” Tommy’s voice was breaking due to all the emotions he had been building up, but he cleared his throat to hopefully get it back to normal.

“Well, I originally thought to myself ‘Wouldn’t it be great if me and Tommy just lived together. We already spend so much time together and it would make being with each other so much easier’ and as much as I would have loved that idea,” Evan explained, “After 6 months of dating, it would have been going a little fast, and I’ve had so many bad things happen from going so fast. So, I thought of the next best thing. A key to this loft,” Evan gestured around to the loft around them, “That way you can come whenever you want, and you don’t have to wait for me to be home, or have to wait outside for me to let you in.”

Tommy was taken aback when the key was slid towards him. A key, that’s what this was? A key to the loft, “Thank you,” Tommy said, “I don’t have a key for you though.”

“You don’t need to give me a key to your place,” Evan replied, “I just wanted to give you a sign that you mean a lot to me. That you are someone I can see a future with eventually. Josh gave me this long speech at 911 HQ about Glee that made no sense to me cause I’ve never seen Glee, but it made me realize some things and myself, and about you, and about us.”

Tommy just sat there, staring at Evan. Staring at this idiot of a man who somehow can say the right things at the right times, but also somehow not, “I think we need to talk a bit more about ourselves before we consider the next steps,” Tommy said, “Learn more about each other before you decide that I’m your forever guy. There are so many things about me that you don’t know. That few people know.”

“I want to know about you, Tommy,” Evan said, “And I don’t want you to feel pressure to tell me everything, but I just want you to know that I won’t judge. You aren’t judging me for being with your ex-fiancé.”

“That’s to be determined,” Tommy chuckled, “Well as a start, I guess, I want you to know that I only came out as gay five years ago. I broke things off with Abbie, transferred from the 118, you can ask Hen and Howie about what I was like back then, and started a new phase of my life at Harbor Station. But I didn’t come out officially to anyone around me until two years after my transfer. I’ve got a lot of traumas related to being gay and I don’t exactly handle them in a productive manner.”

“I’m sorry that you had to handle things like this alone. You shouldn’t have had to be like that. You know the 118 as it is now would have supported you in everything right?” Evan looked at Tommy, his eyes showing he truly believed the words he was saying.

“I was at the 118 under Gerrard,” Tommy explained, “You only had to experience a fraction of what it was like. I’m at peace with where I am now. I just want you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“Doesn’t mean that I can’t still empathize,” Evan replied, “And in the spirit of sharing trauma from our past,” Evan said, “I was only born to be spare parts for an older brother who was dying from Leukemia. I only learned about this about 3-4 years ago.”

Tommy’s mouth dropped open at this admission. How was Evan so well adjusted knowing that, “I’m so sorry that you believe that. I’m sure you weren’t just spare parts.”

“Oh, I was, my parents told me as much,” Evan laughed, “Defective parts no less. The son my parents wanted died a year after I was born because my bone marrow couldn’t save him. I came to terms with all this years ago. After a huge yelling match with my parents,” Evan shrugged.

Tommy walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. The longest hug they had ever had. Tommy felt tears in his eyes as he held Evan. His Evan. Tommy pulled out of the hug and looked Evan right in the eyes, he had to say this now or he never would, “I have something to tell you,” Tommy said, “And I don’t need a response from you either, but I just want you to know this,” Tommy took a deep breath before he continued, “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

Now it was Evan’s turn to have his mouth drop open. Tommy felt a sense of peace from saying that, but he also felt a sense of dread. What if this admission to Evan made him realize that he didn’t truly see a future with him. What if this is what ended things? Tommy’s heart couldn’t handle that. But he had to let that out. A thousand more What If’s flooded his brain as he stood there looking at Evan, trying to get a read on his face, “I don’t know what to say to that,” Evan said flabbergasted.

“I don’t need a response,” Tommy interjected quickly, “Let’s just pretend that I didn’t say anything and go have our movie night,” Tommy looked at the clock, “Though I think we might be too late for that.”

“No, I do want to respond to what you said,” Evan replied. Evan also took a deep breath, “I don’t know what I feel about you. I don’t know if its lust, love, or something else that hasn’t been defined. What I do know is that I do feel something for you. Something that makes me feel like you are meant to be the one. The one that I spend the rest of my life with. The one that I have been looking for all these years. I might not be able to put it into simple words, but I just wanted you to know how I feel. Maybe it is love. I mean I’ve been in love before, but it feels different from that. More complete. Maybe what I felt before with someone wasn’t love. Or maybe because its with you, someone who makes me feel comfortable and at peace with myself, maybe it feels different because its with you. I don’t want to put a label on it but that’s how I feel.”

Tommy smiled at Evan. He did realize that he was falling in love with this man, and this just cemented it. He noticed how he felt as far back as that funeral for Billy Boils. How passionate Evan was about this long dead cowboy. His words that day stuck with Tommy, and he wanted to be Evan’s people. The ones that make life worth living, “That’s a great answer,” Tommy choked. He pulled Evan into another hug, and this time let the tears slide down his cheeks, “That was the perfect answer.”

Evan smiled and kissed Tommy, not a chaste kiss that they had been sharing lately, not a heat of the moment passion kiss that they shared at the hospital before the wedding. This was something different. Different emotions were brought into this kiss. Tommy enjoyed it, “So we definitely won’t make our movie now,” Tommy said into Evan’s mouth, “Did you have a back-up plan?”

“Well, we are here,” Evan said, “And you did make an implication when you arrived,” Evan started to wiggle his eyebrows in a suggestive way, “Might not be as quick though.”

Tommy smiled at the thought and let Evan pull him towards the stairs to his loft bedroom. This was a much better ending to this day.

***

                Note: I hate how BuckTommy ended just as much as the next person, so I decided to rewrite how I wanted them to go that night. So, this is what you get. In my brain now this is what happened, and the rest of the season so far is scraped. I also wanted to get you guys something as it has been a week since I last posted and I was starting to feel bad.

[saoirseyun]

━━━━FIGURE IT OUT, MY BAD HABIT.

⸝⸝ x fem!secretary!reader

IN WHICH━━ beast!dazai can't seem to find himself to love you back any further than what you two currently have.

CONTENT WARNING━━ angst, emotional hurt no comfort, arguements, fear of commitment, lack of proper communication, manipulative behaviors where both parties may be at fault*, sick and or twisted narrations, unhealthy coping mechanisms, sexual imagery, proceed with caution.

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━ written for a fantastic writer, @moomuzan. definitely check out ella's works every now and then if you got the time to—swear on my life, you wouldn't get hurt :]

WORD COUNT━━ 1.7k words, proofread

—He's implicitly tense tonight.

Maybe much more tense than normal, you'd eventually notice. After how he's hardly safekeeping those stiff emotions in check, his face in itself was becoming all too transparent for the eye's witness; your boss—the leader of Port Mafia himself—Dazai unable to stabilize his own nerves.

Why can't he; why must it have to be now, of all times? A begrudge—horrible look to his expression that blur between such nervous eyebrows and lips, the more you stared, and the longer he hesitates. It dishearten you, of rigid sensations from Dazai's skin in itself despite coming to be used to such sweet specks from those fingers, his hands... Eyes were barely ever on yours either tonight—anxious. And knowing Dazai he isn't a man to subject the tenderness of the heart.... It's inevitable to say that it's foreign to observe, closely, he's failing breaths and tearing his own body apart in that brain. You loosen your own grasp of his hand, the way it trembles shyly little by little.

He pulls away last second from your kiss, the thumb lazing on your delicious lips strokes itself away as Dazai took a step back and stares downward to your pretty face. He's not so confident, where as taking the move without drawled backs or even regretting to take it as his own, sort of confidence. Especially the sudden pause in Dazai's maple eyes and just knowing you'll be too intoxicating for him, he'd think. Was all he ever thinks inching away from you. "Do you still know what you're getting yourself into?" Dazai ensures,

And this? Far too often has this happen, for god's sake. A damn hassle just to get Dazai convinced enough that he does maybe loves you the fullest of his heart.

"...Dazai-san, please, it's obvious enough." Bathed breath evaporates from those shaky, tired lips. Frustration felt against the once comforting closure with Dazai... your brows knit together. "I've already told you about it time after time, why are you reacting this way?"

"I only desire to make sure so."

"...You're my secretary, are you not? I don't know much about you yet."

When you've lean your head to the side and take a couple moments blindly admire his brown eyes. Only, to some degree frizzled with the liberal strands of his brunet hair in the way—oh naturally so, you'd take the sweet time fixing Dazai's unkempt front bangs. He, in himself, maybe can only do very much less as he fixates his watch on you.

"It can't be."

You say, softly, rather defensively. Touch for touch, you felt his body beneath your hand. "You weren't one to act so hesitant." Which can be said towards anything he does. You've come to learn his sweet little mannerisms and etiquette regarding anything. "So what is it, 'samu? What's gotten into your head?"

But asking that is the worst possible thing you could've done imaginable right now. Watch attentively now—the click of his tongue and slipping those fine digits off from yours.

"Listen, we..."Dazai stops himself. A flick of his slim hand off the delicate skin that is your cheeks, a shift to his demeanor. "We've brought this up a couple of times. I'm still sure of that... However, I—"

"—can't have myself falling in love like this. Nor could I even let you."

He'd reminded—ramble on how it's too dangerous for you to be this close this life more than only being his secretary. Strictly. You weren't going to stand right there and listen, were you? You two—you two can make it out! Have it work, it's proven. Time after time, you and Dazai only seems natural to become a couple. How could he say those kinds of words so casually? What kind of sick freak. Frantic to think for some sort of explanation before—

"And why not? It's as difficult enough to make myself come to admit all of... this! My love!" You weren't even anticipating those same insults to blurt out your lips. To the palpable air and terrible, terrible vibe. "Now you're right here in front of me, telling that you're not allowed?" A scoff, "You've kissed my mouth several other times before, held this hand of mine into yours and just keeping each other as close as possible..." ...It scares you to think. To think that, perhaps, nonetheless the times he had mutter delectable, sweet words to your ear in times of need—private rendezvous underneath rain's cover or the safety of his locked office space—Dazai's an all-talk attitude. Albeit having the kind of demeanor of a sicken, lonely freak who's quite the gentleman regardless in reality. You've come to know him deeper by now, delicate, close, genuine, raw. Yet here you stand in the moment—doubting your own head.

...Guessing that it could potentially even be what Dazai wants all along—playing, foolish through your head and loosen the guard of your own senses. And him? He was disappointed with the ignorant faces you're making, unaware. "Please, now, my precious bella. Don't think of me so lowly. I'm not like myself as... much as I would like today. Trust me, have a little faith in me?" For your beloved? Yes, yes. A thousand times—without second thoughts or barely some times to think it thoroughly more. Definitely. Now? What about now? You'd think, not at all. "...Osamu, you're not sugarcoating me into believing that. I hate it when you try sweet talk on me too, y'know!?"

"I'm not trying anything." He'd raise his hands in defense. Headlock a terrifying shiver to the ear and falling to his spine as Dazai frowns at your reaction.

And then, you're tense. Tenser than ever.

Now, he'll ask himself, what has he done wrong? Can't you get it? You agreed to make it casual too, nothing serious—thus nothing more. It harms the heart nevertheless of such nonchalant words and mentally damaging, that's the jist. For some reason you've felt truer affection for the Port Mafia boss.

He's right on the money. You never wanted committment either from the start.

"Just take a look at us! I mean, it's been some time since we've began to privately date one another and I'm coming to realize that maybe I belong with you." It was exactly... naïve-esque much to Dazai's expectations. That desperate almost glint in the reflection of your darling eyes and such insistence. Kind of blissfully unaware which makes it all come crashing down in a major offense. Sorry if it hurts you in a way, surely he would've thought too alongside that in his head.

"That right there... That is one major problem."

A direct slap to your face, is what it all felt him muttering those words coldly with the bare minimum to pause and... Think. Think about you. Of certain love. "You're only getting it in your head! Don't act so cowardly to it."

"...[name], what I'm doing is for your benefit to be safe and sound—out of every fucking mess I get into with Mafia work. Now it won't even be smart and get with me... What's it to you, stubborn woman? You're a mere assistant to me; You shouldn't be explicitly involved."

Must he mistaken you to a underling? Working for a year under the organization's belt, you stood by Dazai's side for more than a single 12 months... You've felt the heart gone to hell and return between conflict after conflict, an unending cycle of relentless violence, blood smudge to the floors and grounds until the building themself stink of death and rotten flesh.

It's vile.

You can't help the words your mouth involuntarily spoke out in rebel to Dazai's repetitive rejection. Perhaps you did, or even not— "We can still be together and have that same level of security!" Is what you argue. Maybe double—or triple is what an unrealistic dream seems to be, but it can't hurt and imagine sometimes towards on that.

It was in the heat of the moment specifically why you won't back down, however.

As much as temptation touches the heart of his in sound of that ideal life, the two of you knew that deep down, it remains as nothing more as an ideal for another life instead. It's dangerous, life-threatening. If he falls for you now, it'll all collapse under a swift gaze of brute enemies dying of bloodthirst. That's all, all he ever knew. Ponder longer and for once the mafioso might be able to snap out of frustration, agony. Pain to what can't be have in his bandaged hands or held even a fraction near his bruised wrists. In shock, Dazai didn't notice the insult your lips blurt out, failure to comprehend after thought. Better yet, why must Dazai wonder about the whole ordeal now—his problematic worries and indescribable hyperbole fears. The man would've overthink and handle the situation at hand with ease... Thus maybe resting another couple of bottles last night was not the brightest.

Without a second to talk back you take in the irritation. "...Actually, y'know what? I don't even know why I agreed to this relationship." But fine, it was fun and scandalous to mess around oh so unprofessional with the man who's status much stands higher than you, wasn't it? Don't lie. Enter the office and share a brief kiss, exchange little gifts every now and then but often suggest a quickie or two on the chair—maybe his desk that you just so happen to enjoy ruining out of pleasure and sadism.

You turn from Dazai. Facing the flat exit in view, only the heel of your feet readying to walk away.

"I'll spell it out, though. I won't get sick for who you are but instead for what."

"I know I'll be in your heart until the end." Dazai observes how furious you would've been, rushing out of the office at once. "...You'll miss me, but don't beg me, babe."

...It is what it is. After that very last time of an encounter holding him as if Dazai was truly nothing but your own, you'll quit; first thing in the morning, and that settles it. Regardless of Dazai's disapproval.

You can't help but wonder if he really did meant well.

postscript: i knew that writing this kind of dynamic could be delicate, complex, and or even complicated to write in a way the [narrator] can't stand on either side; a losing battle where neither are satisfied and feels unhealthy. i guess that's the appeal to stubborn, rehashed arguements particularly anyway. id want the reader make up their own conclusion.

~from south korea with love, 수빈

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 801

summary// what happened to kissing the homies happy new year?

"I heard you kissed a fan for the new years kiss."

You look up at your phone when Matt doesn't respond, and you slide open your drawer when you notice he's thinking.

"I did. On the forehead."

You rummage through your desk, blinking quietly when you realize you can't find what you're looking for.

"I saw photos... of her, I mean. Not of the kiss." You hum. "Every now and then the fan in me kicks at my rationality."

"Did you want one?"

"Don't go asking me that." You slide your hand to the parts you can't see, frowning when it isn't there either. "I don't know how you manage to be simultaneously the sweetest celebrity I know yet lack so many typical boundaries."

"I don't think it's a lack."

"I know it isn't. The universe returns the kindness you show others tenfold." You finally look up at the call, and Matt's got a brow raised as you huff at what he's holding. "I left it with you?"

"On accident. I've been making full use of the camera." He hums. "I'll return it to you with a new roll of film as long as you develop it for me."

"Of course." You nod. "That makes a lot more sense, actually."

"Oh, and another thing. Don't go—"

"sending them to other people. I know."

"No, I was gonna say you can post most of them except one."

"Will you tell me which one?"

"You'll know."

"I'm bracing myself for unsolicited dick pics right now." You roll your eyes, finding another camera as you dig through your tote. "H...uh? Oh, you swapped cameras with me!? I didn't even notice."

"I bought it back when it was newly on sale. Mine's all beat up."

"That means it's well loved." You hum, fingers smoothing over the yellow of the camera, raising a brow at the screen as Matt locks eyes with you.

"I'm excited to see what you do with it."

You laugh, tugging the drawer back open as you toss out a handful of folders, tweezers in hand as you raise a brow at him. "Yeah?"

"Expect a bit of love on yours too."

"Like biting or photos wise?" You pause to stare at the camera. "A 2016 model is kind of rare."

"I found it in Japan while out."

"Ah." You hum. "I should make you get me one next time you're there."

"You won't come with me?"

"Studying abroad is gonna cost me an arm and a leg. I'm already barely grazing by with my aid right now. Well, if you even count that as aid. My fault for picking New York." You huff, finger smoothing down the color on the dents.

"I suppose." Matt taps at the screen to get your attention, and you look up from the sheets strewn around you. "When do you fly back?"

"Why? You won't even meet up with me at the airport since we're in different cities."

"So I know when to send you stuff."

"Don't you have more recording in LA?"

"Mm, you never know where the wind brings you."

"I hope the wind blows me to early retirement." You mumble. "Doing what I love for a living would be nice too. Maybe I should mail Anderson some fanmail and beg for an internship."

"You want a call?"

"It'd be unfair to do that." You tap your desk, glancing at the tweezers. "Well, not unfair. I'll see where the wind takes me too."

"Is it sunny?"

"Here? Always." You pull the shades and let the sun spill in, humming quietly to yourself as you laugh. "Is it sunny there?"

"You know it is." He picks up his phone to walk you over to the back door, stepping out to stand in the sun.

"I bet the film will turn out super nice." You hum. "Stay still. I want a photo."

"Still thinking about starting that fanpage for me?"

"You want me to? The twitter fanpages but for you? A "what's MGG up to today?" account?" You look at the photos on your phone, and you hum. "You already have an update account. I don't need to use our friendship to tell others."

"I respect their dedication." His lip quirks upwards, and you laugh.

"I do too."

"So? I'm sure you're not just calling to talk to me about my new years kiss."

"Oh, yeah. I had a couple of questions for the story."

"I'm more than willing to answer them. I respect the dedication."

"What are we all if not dedicated to the bit?"

"Is this where the wind is taking you?"

"Yeah." You turn on the camera to snap a photo of him, humming quietly as you beam at him. "What am I if not living to entertain?"

"Living to enjoy, perhaps."

"Always."

[changingplumbob]

CW: Low level sim spice, language - Guide to content warnings

Glenn: That was fun, thanks for teaching me how to do that

Silver: No problem Babycakes. You okay?

Glenn: What do you mean

Silver: You seem fidgety

Glenn: Oh I just don't feel very well

Silver: You shouldn't have swallowed

Glenn: No it's not that, I think it's just my stomach bug

Silver: Wait you still have that? You didn't say on the phone yesterday

Glenn: Course not. You've knocked yourself down to two days of traveling a week. I'm not going to interfere with that by telling you how many times I've thrown up

Silver: I mean... did you throw up a lot while I was gone

Glenn: Only three times but it's easy enough to clean up with magic. I mean technically I could clean myself with magic as well but I do love my showers

Silver: But that makes almost two weeks you've been sick

Glenn: Yeah, and? I know you are blessed with not getting sick because you're a werewolf but the rest of us do have to suffer through bugs

Silver: *thoughtfully* It just seems to be getting worse, not better

Glenn: I'll survive

Silver had a thought, but he really didn't want to have that thought. It wasn't possible right?

Glenn: What the heck just flew past the window? You stay here, I'll be back

Glenn pulled on his pants and went downstairs while Silver sat up in bed, his mind racing. Downstairs Glenn let in Koko who had just crash landed in front of the door.

Glenn: What are you doing

Koko: Practicing, I still prefer horses

Glenn: No I mean it's the middle of the night

Koko: Glenn, Ophelia was very precise about my delivery time. You know I don't sleep so she figured I was best for this job. Here you go

Glenn: A box?

Koko: I wanted to gift wrap it

Glenn: Did Ophelia say when I could open it

Koko: Now. I believe her specific words were "Please give it to Glenn for me and make sure you get the timing right. Oh and tell him to remind Silver to breathe"

Glenn: Why would I need- the heck is this

Koko: A pregnancy test

Glenn: No I know that but why are you giving it to me?

Koko: Because Ophelia told me to

Glenn: No but I mean, I'm not female

Koko: I am aware. You do have feminine sparks of energy but mainly it's masculine energy that you give off

Glenn: Koko I... I can't get pregnant. Can I?

Koko: Why are you asking me

Glenn: Well quite aside from the fact that you flew past my window, making me rush downstairs and giving me a pregnancy test, you told me your family knew healing magic

Koko: Some but healing is not the same as pregnancy

Glenn: You know all about light right? Am I... do I look like I'm glowing? Could you tell that

Silver sat on the edge of the bed panicking. How long had Glenn felt nauseous for? Silver had grown up in a time where pregnancy was taboo but he still knew a lot. Someone had always been pregnant in the pack. When women were pregnant they had trouble keeping food down but the men, normally the men didn't feel the nausea as bad.

Maybe it was because Glenn was a spellcaster? But shit! Male pregnancy was meant to be a werewolf thing. If the pair had gotten pregnant it should be Silver carrying their child. Glenn... Glenn had struggled so much with his self esteem growing up. One of his points of pride was his abs, that he was able to maintain them. Well he wouldn't be able to keep them if he was pregnant. And if he was pregnant then it was definitely Silver's fault.

Silver didn't know what to do. His mom would have known, but she wasn't here. Watcher he missed her.

Glenn: Silver?

Shit. Silver was really out of it if he hadn't heard Glenn come back up the stairs and in to their room. He should apologise. Wait no, if he did that Glenn might think he didn't want a kid. Then Glenn would be pregnant and sad and both would be his fault.

Glenn: That was just Koko. Ophelia wants me to take a pregnancy test I guess and uh... and remind you to breathe?

Previous ... Next

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- three.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, drinking, allusions to depression, reader and noah making up yayyyy 🥳🥳

w.c- 2,898

a.n- if you guys couldn't tell by now, this story has kinda turned from being inspired by only halley's comet to being inspired by the entire album! go listen to happier than ever by billie eilish. the album. not the song.

enjoy! <3

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment!

i haven't slept since sunday. midnight for me is three a.m. for you.

three more weeks passed since everything happened. the next day, noah tried to come back. i told him to stay away. forever. i promised him that i would be just fine without him, that i didn't need him to prove to me that he was something he didn't want to be. because i was so convinced he didn't want to be better. he just wanted his photographer back.

i started working at a local coffee shop, the spark in my eyes that was once consistent now gone. i didn't have that kind voice that everyone grew to love. i didn't put any effort into my appearance. i just threw my hair into a ponytail and moved on.

a lot of the time, i was glad i lived alone. i could fall back into old habits without being scolded. like drinking, for example. it was the only way i knew how to handle my feelings. which wasn't working very well.

but you're all it takes for me to break a promise.

i knew the next time i saw his face i would break. i would run back. i would stay. spending years with somebody who you're secretly in love with will do that to a person. so i made it my goal to purposefully ignore him.

every time i would go home, i would scroll mindlessly on my phone. i found out that noah canceled the rest of the tour. mental health reasons, or whatever. i rolled my eyes, turning off my phone and cracking open yet another bottle of liquor, feeling the familiar burn go down my throat that i've grown accustomed to. i walked around my apartment mindlessly, humming some unfamiliar tune to myself.

these past few weeks, music has been my number one savior. aside from alcohol.

NOAH'S POV.

these weeks without her proved to be difficult. having fallen into a depression after alyssa and i broke up, [y/n] leaving only made it worse. i sat in my room, staring at the door. sometimes i would pray that she would walk through. surprise me and say it was all just a cruel prank.

countless bottles of hennessy sat in front of my bed. that was all i had been doing. drinking and working out and writing to ease away the pain.

"but nevertheless, i'm fucking depressed. i hide it with sex, and drink till it's fatal." i murmured to myself, taking another sip from the bottle before letting it clatter to the ground, snatching my pen and paper from my desk.

when i went through things like this, i always liked to write down my thoughts. some of those thoughts ended up in songs. and since we were in the middle of writing a new album, this was perfect.

there was a knock at the door and i grumbled a greeting, my eyes never leaving the paper. a couple seconds later, jolly walked in.

"christ, man, you look like hell."

i hummed, continuing to write as he sat in front of me.

"look, i know you're struggling. because of-"

i knew exactly who he was talking about. i didn't want to hear her name. she hurt me enough. "don't say her name."

jolly sighed. "because of her. but dude, we're worried. you know none of it was your fault, right? she was stupid to do that to you."

i scoffed. "she said it herself, jolly. 'he's richer, hotter, and bigger'" i scowled, repeating her words that she had said to me that night. some part of me regretted walking out of that door. i loved her. for years. and i had grown used to loving her. she was all that i had. she was what made me what i am. she was right, really. i would be nothing without her.

"you're doing it again." he said. at this point, i had stopped writing, staring off into space. "doing what?"

"that thing you do when you get all into your head. blaming yourself for everything. how many times do i have to tell you it's not your fault for you to get it in your head, man?" he said, sternly but gently.

i rolled my eyes. "you're wrong."

"how?"

"because i loved her, jolly. i fucking loved her, and i screwed it all up because i can never do anything right. i'll never be good enough. for myself, or anybody."

i buried my face in my hands, sobs racking my body once more. i never liked to be this vulnerable with anybody, even my closest friends. but honestly? i didn't give a fuck anymore. let them see.

"i know man. i know." he said, rubbing his hand over my back in an attempt to sooth me.

it pained jolly to see me like this. i knew that. but it was better to tell people of my thoughts than to keep it bottled up inside, right?

READERS POV.

i was making that damn song all the way till the early morning. i didn't even realize how late it had gotten until i woke up to my alarm. i had fallen asleep at my desk, my computer still running and everything. i didn't have work today, so that left me plenty of time to do whatever the hell i wanted.

months passed. months without seeing or talking to him. i would occasionally text the others, but i wouldn't dare send him a single text. i caught up a bit with folio and jolly, telling them about my ongoing journey with music. i still pursued photography as a side hustle, but my main focus was getting this song perfect.

it was almost done. almost ready to be released. maybe as an album? no, i can't get too carried away. music isn't for me. but as i listened to the song and made sure everything was right, my feelings began to change.

"i don't want it, and i don't want to want you. but in my dreams, i seem to be more honest. and i must admit, you've been in quite a few."

it wasn't a lie. he had began to show up more often in my dreams. not as nightmares, but as something that we could've been.

"Halley's Comet comes around more than i do. but you're all it takes for me to break a promise. silly me to fall in love with you."

that promise. that stupid promise.

"[y/n], please. let me explain-"

"no, noah! i don't care about your shitty explanations and your shitty behavior and your stupid face! i promise, i'll be just fine without you. leave me alone!"

"i haven't slept since sunday. mdnight for me is 3:00 a.m. for you. but my sleepless nights are better with you than nights could ever be alone, ooh-ooh-ooh. i was good at feeling nothing, now i'm hopeless. what a drag to love you like i do, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh."

it wasn't entirely a lie. when i imagined him in the bed next to me, it felt like i could sleep better. when i pretended everything was okay, everything felt lighter. the weight on my shoulders seemed to momentarily disappear, only to crash back down when i realized it was all just a fantasy.

"ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh. i've been loved before, but right now in this moment i feel more and more like i was made for you. for you. i'm sitting in my brother's room. haven't slept in a week or two, or two. i think i might have fallen in love. what am i to do?"

as the song ended, i found myself picking up my phone, going to his contact. i laughed softly to myself as i saw the contact. it was still the same. when everything was nice. when i wasn't all alone. i decided to jump the gun, shooting him a text.

i breathed out a sigh of relief. maybe he didn't hate me as much as i thought. i immediately thought back to the time i took it. when things were better. happier.

"come on! put it on!" i laughed, holding out the little plastic tiara to him. we had gone to disney world for a summer vacation, and i won a tiara from one of the game booths.

"i'm not putting that on." he said, his arms folded across his chest.

i pouted, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes i knew he couldn't resist until he groaned, snatching the tiara from my hands and putting it on his head. despite his previously grumpy demeanor, he still wore a smile when i took the pictures.

i missed that.

the moment i saw him walk through those doors, it was like everything hit me all at once. he looked terrible. i did too, but definitely better in comparison.

"hi." i said softly.

"hi." he said back, sitting down in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

i bit my lip as we sat in an awkward silence for a moment before i spoke.

"noah, i-"

"[y/n]-"

i couldn't help but smile softly as we spoke at the same time.

"you first." he said.

i took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. "i know you've been through a lot, noah. and i should've taken that into consideration when i said all that shit. honestly, i haven't been doing too well myself, if you couldn't tell." i said, gesturing to myself.

"it sounds stupid as fuck, but it feels like theres this void in my chest that's just been so empty since i left. i miss you guys. i miss the band." i said.

he sensed there was something more. "but...?"

"but," i began. "i can't come back as the photographer. after i've recovered somewhat from everything, i realized photography isn't for me. i was to pursue something bigger."

"like?"

"music."

he raised his eyebrows. "you want to become a musician?"

"i know, it sounds absurd and like a child's dream, but i really think-"

"no, [y/n] that's fucking amazing." he said with a small laugh, leaning forward. i smiled slightly. there was that smile i missed.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i mean, i've only heard you sing a handful of times, but you're great. you're gonna make it big, trust me." he said.

my heart warmed at his words. "thank you." i said.

"look, [y/n], i'll be the first to admit how much of a douche i was to you. i've had time to think about it. to get over it and stop wallowing in self-pity. and i'm really sorry. i'm kinda shocked you didn't quit sooner, honestly. but, if you'd like, we could start fresh. you don't have to come back to the band, but we can hang out and shit. maybe i can help you with your music."

his words only made my smile brighten. "yeah, i'd like that. a lot. thank you."

"of course, princess."

after our little friend date, we went to his studio to work on some things. he showed me how different things worked and helped me on writing a song that i had been thinking about.

i bit my lip, jotting down a few lyrics in my notebook as he watched.

i don't really wanna know why you went there. i kinda don't care. you want to kill me? you want to hurt me? stop being flirty. it's kinda working.

i hummed a soft tune to myself as i read the lyrics, trying to figure out what would work right.

did you really think this is the right thing to do? is it news? news to who? that i really looked just like the rest of you.

noah snapped me out of my continuous thoughts, turning back to the computer. "i've been working on stuff, too." he said.

"yeah?"

he hummed in response, pulling up a file full of different songs. "pick one." he said, leaning back.

i bit my lip in thought before clicking on the one titled The Grey.

"evened the scores, then i let it all go fall apart. and every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. looking sideways when i say i'm okay with the past. but i'm afraid of what i might say if you ask."

i leaned back in my chair as i listened to the lyrics, knowing that this song could be about one of two people. me, or alyssa.

"gave you way too many chances, you ran through them all. got everything i could want but it wasn't enough. nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. got everything i could want but i still wanted more. yeah, i still wanted more."

the pure emotion in his voice was enough to make my heart break into pieces and clarify who it was about. i knew after what happened with her, he was broken. and this song was only proof.

"there's not another way, don't let me go. don't dig another grave today. i'll make the same mistakes, i'll never know who i was before i faded away into the grey."

the recording stopped, and my eyes darted from the screen to his face. "that's all i have right now." he said. "we have more sessions later this week to finish it."

i gulped. "noah..."

he looked at me and raised a brow. "what?"

"that was fucking beautiful."

i almost felt like i was going to cry. i always loved his voice, but that was on a whole other level. usually he was screaming. he never had those soft vocals like what i just heard.

he smiled softly. "thanks. now get in there."

i blinked, shaking my head. "sorry, what?"

"go on. get in the booth. i want to hear you sing this. we can figure something out."

"noah, i-" "don't argue. go."

i sighed, getting up and heading into the recording booth. maybe it would be okay. i wouldn't fuck it up. i put on the headphones, looking back up at him through the glass. "which one?" i asked.

he hummed, looking through the notebook i had left on the desk.

"what about my future? start it off strong."

i nodded, mentally preparing myself for whatever the hell was about to happen.

"i can't seem to focus, and you don't seem to notice i'm not here. i'm just a mirror. you check your complexion to find your reflection's all alone. i had to go. can't you hear me? i'm not coming home. do you understand? i've changed my plans. cause i, i'm in love with my future. and i, i'm in love. but not with anybody else. just wanna get to know myself."

it really was a beautiful song. and it was me putting all of my feelings on the line. the lyrics didn't have a deeper meaning to them like noah's often did. their meaning was just laid flat out. i changed my plans for the future, and i'm waiting to sort things out with myself before falling in love again.

"i know supposedly i'm lonely now. know i'm supposed to be unhappy without someone. but aren't i someone? i'd like to be your answer. cause you're so handsome. but i know better than to drive you home. cause you'd invite me in, and i'd be yours again."

the lyrics seemed to flow freely as i sang, my eyes closed and hands moving in random directions. i didn't even notice him staring.

"but i, i'm in love. with my future. and you don't know her, mm. and i, i'm in love. but not with anybody here. i'll see you in a couple years."

i opened my eyes and looked at noah, noticing how his mouth was slightly open. i laughed. "don't start drooling."

he shook himself out of his thoughts. "sorry, that was just. really fucking good. you're a natural, princess. i'm jealous." he said.

i rolled my eyes, stepping out of the booth.

"great, now let's work out a tune."

we spent hours and hours fixing up the song, getting carried away in our musical abilities. last time i checked, it was around 2 am. i didn't want to go home, so i suggested we took a little break and watched a movie or something. he nodded and we sat on the couch, turning on the tv (of course he turned on naruto). my head ended up lulling to the side, landing on his shoulder as i slowly fell asleep. the last thing my brain registered before falling into dreamland was the soft kiss on my forehead and his soft words.

"goodnight, princess."

his lips against mine felt like heaven. it felt like my whole life was complete when i kissed him, when i felt him. he felt like home. something i hadn't known in a long time. i pulled away, breathing slightly heavy as i looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

"noah.." i whispered.

he smiled softly and hummed.

"i fucking love you."

"mm.. [y/n]." he mumbled against my lips.

"princess."

"[Y/N]!"

[marryinred]

A fresh wave of panic began to simmer in the pit of Lydia’s stomach. This was not good.

Part of their original binding contract stated that Lydia was, quite literally, Betelgeuse’s anchor to the realm of the living. Where she would go, he would go, and vice versa. In the time they’d been together, they’d never tested the boundaries and limits of the invisible leash, and now Lydia was desperately wishing they had. 

With a quick, chilly kiss to Lydia’s cheek, Byron was quickly rushed out the door with her father. She remained standing there in the living room, anxiety rolling through her like an oncoming storm as she stared at the closed door. Letting out a deep exhale, she turned and walked past the kitchen. Delia was still busying herself with straightening up after breakfast, so she decided to use that moment to dart back upstairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

Lydia began to pace back and forth, her long black skirt swishing as she would turn direction. She was confident in Betelgeuse’s immense power, but what would happen if he wandered too far away from her? Would the leash function like a Netherworld version of an ankle monitor? Would the Powers That Be assume he was breaking the contract and wreaking havoc upon the world? Or would he be automatically teleported to her side? 

A gentle knock at her bedroom door interrupted Lydia’s chaotic thoughts.

“C-come in!” She called out, trying to keep her voice level. The door opened to reveal Barbara, smiling, but with a slight apologetic expression. The curly-haired woman slipped inside, leaving the door open just a crack. Lydia straightened, giving her a small smile she hoped would pass as friendly and not anxious.

“Hey, honey,” Barbara began, her voice soft and gentle as she spoke. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.” The ghostly woman fiddled with her fingers, having nothing to do with her hands. “It was just…shocking, you know, to find out you’d told your new boyfriend–”

“Byron,” Lydia interjected.  “His name is Byron.”

Barbara nodded. “Right. It was a surprise that you’d told Byron about us, about…” she waved her hand, gesturing vaguely. “About life after death. Juno was very clear to Adam and I… we can’t let living people know about us. The fact that ghosts are real. It could be dangerous.” Lydia shook her head, coming to stand beside her window. She stared out at the expanse of the town of Winter River down beyond the bridge. God, please hurry up and get back, Beej.

Barbara continued.

“It’s–It’s not that I doubt your judgement, Lydia. I can understand being excited to… share your life, all your secrets, with someone when you get close to them. But I just think…maybe you shouldn’t have told him about us?” After a beat of silence, she continued. “How well do you know him, anyway, Lydia?” At that question, Lydia’s head swiveled back to look at Barbara. 

“I know him better than anyone. And he knows everything about me, too.” Turning now to fully face the ghost woman, Lydia could feel her panic fading into an emotion she rarely let herself express; anger. Lydia had spent the years after her parents’ divorce desperately craving the love and care of a mother and father. While Adam and Barbara were incredibly supportive and loving, they were also almost smothering in their care. What Lydia had thought was comforting in the beginning became overbearing. Through no fault of their own, it was too little, too late.

“What was I supposed to do?” Lydia asked, holding her hands out towards Barbara in a questioning manner. Her voice held a bitter edge as she spoke. “Stay here, in Winter River, forever? Never make friends, never have a relationship? Never really share my life with someone because of this big dark secret that hangs over my head? Was I just supposed to lock myself up in the attic? Be the town’s crazy spinster that can see and talk to ghosts?” 

While she was speaking, Lydia waved her hands for emphasis. Barbara shook her head in protest, and opened her mouth to try and explain she never wanted that for the young woman. Two things happened then– the way in which Lydia moved rang a bell of vague familiarity in Barbara’s mind, and while gesturing with her hands, the light from the window glinted off of the ring on Lydia’s left hand. Chocolate eyes narrowed, Barbara stepped forward and gently grasped Lydia’s wrist, bringing her hand into the light for examination.

At first, Lydia was confused, halted in her expression of a few years’ worth of pent up angst. She glanced down to her ring and realization struck her. She could tell by the look on Barbara’s face that it was all slowly clicking into place for her, as well. Although Adam and Barbara had only been around the poltergeist a handful of times, Barbara could easily remember their first meeting. After having dug him out of his grave in the model, he’d thrown himself at her like a man half starved. When he’d wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she’d recoiled in disgust. She remembered casting a glance to his hand, repulsed by the mold and dirt adorning his fingers. Her attention was drawn, however briefly, to a large gold ring beset with a ruby on his index finger.

An identical ring, although smaller and more feminine, could be found on Lydia’s left hand, where a wedding band would reside. 

It all added up for Barbara now. Byron’s mannerisms, the cadence of his voice, the thinly-veiled contempt in his eyes when he looked at her…

Lydia felt her face drain of all color–how could she have been so forgetful? She’d always kept the ring covered with little lace or velvet gloves, passing it off as another addition to her eccentric style. She’d grown so used to allowing the world to see, openly referring to Betelgeuse as her husband, that she’d forgotten to keep up the guise when she returned to Winter River.

Time seemed to slow down, and silence between the two women seemed to stretch on for eons, before they both began to speak at once. Barbara’s voice was shrill in her concern for the girl, her eyes wide and full of panic. 

“Lydia, what have you done? Did he trick you into this? We’ve got to tell your parents! Adam and I, we can go to Juno, we can get him taken care of for good–”

“Please, please don’t tell my dad and Delia, I didn’t want you all to find out like this–”

Lydia was panicking, and in her mind she was screaming.

This is bad. Please, hurry back, Beej! Hurry!

The panic that was tightening in her chest began to subside the very moment Betelgeuse embraced her.  Lydia closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as he placed a gentle kiss against the top of her head. She gazed adoringly at him as he gave Barbara what-for, and she couldn’t help the faint smile that began to play at the corners of her mouth.

God, I love him, she thought to herself.  

Barbara, however, stood completely still, her chocolate brown eyes wide as dinner plates. Adam, too, was shocked, his jaw gone slack in awe at how this complete stranger was speaking to them as if he knew them. 

But he was passionately defending Lydia, and wouldn’t he do the very same for Barbara? Adam took note of the man’s gentle nature as he silently comforted Lydia, and how the young woman completely melted into his arms. He saw how Byron’s hand gripped Lydia’s shoulder–soft, yet with an undertone of possessiveness. As a man, he read the body language easily. It screamed “She’s mine, and you’re hurting her. This is a warning.”

Byron’s spiel ended as Charles appeared in the doorway, blissfully ignorant of what had just transpired between everyone. There was a moment of terribly awkward silence as they just stood there, not knowing how to react. 

“Oh! Uhm! I changed my mind!” Delia called out, her voice cracking a bit. She immediately started bringing out skillets and placing them on top of the stove. “How does sausage, eggs, and bacon sound? Hm? Want some toast as well? There’s orange juice in the refrigerator!” 

Lydia smiled inwardly and gave her dad a good morning kiss on the cheek. She lead Byron into the living room to sit for a bit, just so she could decompress after what had just happened. Barbara’s eyes followed them all the while, until Charles and Adam began exchanging pleasantries. 

“Thank you,” Lydia whispered, her hand finding Betelgeuse’s and giving it a tight squeeze. 

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

Tw: suicide

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[corefourmuscle]

@ofrunsfromtrauma

Tara, you're one of my favorite people in the world, but if you apologize one more time... [I trailed off. Really having no idea how to end that. Thing was, threatening Tara, even in a teasing manner, didn't feel right, but even if I was cool with it, I couldn't even think of a good way to threaten her. Damn these pain meds they had me on. They were messing with my head and screwing up my game too, at the moment. Making a mental note to myself to get off of these pain meds sooner rather than later] Nobody blames you for this but you, so get that in your head. This isn't your fault. It's not your fault anymore than it is mine, Mindy's, Sam's, or hell, even my mother for that matter. [I knew adding my mother in that list was odd, but that was the point. I was trying to use that as a way of letting Tara know how ridiculous she was being by blaming herself for this. Trust me, there were no warning signs. You know, other than the fact that Amber's a bitch. Aside from that though, the bitch played her part well. She could win a damn Oscar for how spot on she played her role as Tara's best friend. My point being, none of us would have suspected her. Now Richie, yeah... The whole boyfriend thing, especially in a requel, definitely pointed him as suspect number one. I guess we overlooked that fact though because of how well he played his part as a spineless, whiny jackass. Nobody thought he'd have the balls to pull this off... Then again, he didn't really do much since, plot twist, he was actually a spineless, whiny jackass who had Amber doing all the dirty work] My point is, none of us figured it out, so either we're all to blame, or none of us are. [I said with a casual shrug but flashed her a smirk as Tara gave flirting back with me a shot] Feels strange, doesn't it? Trying to flirt with me... [I aired out with a muffled chuckle before adding] Practice makes perfect though, so once I'm off of these damn pain meds and am back on my game again, expect lots more flirting from me, T. [Flashing her a wink before a smirk tugged at the corners of my lips]

@ofrunsfromtrauma

[The return of Ghost Face... What the hell?! How many Ghost Face posers was this now? Eight? Ten? Fuck this Ghost Face shit. Honestly, I had lost count, at this point in time, but regardless, I was beyond tired of this bullshit. It was old and overdone. Been there, done that. Time to move the fuck on. I thought in building anger as I laid on the ground outside of Amber's house; feeling a coldness moving through my body as the blood continued to drain from my wounds. For my part, I wasn't a pussy, nor was I quitter, so I did try to move from the ground to get myself some help. Hell, for that matter, to help my sister and friends, who I assumed were still inside dealing with this psychotic fucker terrorizing all of us. Considering the asshole had stabbed me in the leg to start their attack on me, apparently hitting an artery in my leg as they did, considering the blood was pooling out of me like a fucking fountain, as we speak, I couldn't walk. Not to mention I had also been repeatedly stabbed in my side, my stomach, my arm, and God only knows where else too. My point was, the loss of blood was making it near impossible for me to move from this ground. For a hot second, I wondered if I was going to die right here, but I quickly pushed that pussy mindset to the back of my mind; refusing to give in so easily. Hell no! The fuck if I was going to die here in the grass like some wounded animal] Fuck that... [I muttered out in weak determination as I used every bit of strength I could muster up to crawl across the ground toward some ounce of civilization. Fortunately, I managed to find my phone on the ground where I had tossed it just before the first... Or maybe the second... Eh, third stabbing... Regardless, I found my phone, which was the point. I fussed with the keys enough to dial 911. The call was short, but it was enough to alert the 911 operator of the murders here at...] What the fuck is the address? [I muttered out weakly. More so to myself before managing to weakly blurt out] I don't fucking know. Turner Lane... Big house. Stop when you see the party turned blood bath. [I got out before the loss of blood got the better of me, and I dropped my phone onto the ground, before passing out. Apparently it was enough... Or maybe it wasn't and somebody else called about the live action scene from some Nightmare On Elm Street type movie, or whatever. Either way, sirens alerted me that help was on the way. I just hoped I could hang on long enough for someone to find me in this damn grass. I thought as I found my eyes closing once more...

I didn't know how much time was passing before I felt the sensation of throbbing pain moving through my body again as the EMTs packed my knife wounds, then moved me from the ground, onto a gurney, and ultimately into the back of an ambo. As I did, I caught a brief glimpse of my sister, Tara, and Sam grouped at the back of another ambulance. Relieved to know they were alive. As far as anyone else who lived or died, or for that matter, who the fucktard was playing the overly done Ghost Face part this time around, I'd just have to wait until I was conscious again to have someone fill me in on the parts and pieces I missed while I laid in the ground bleeding like some chump. I silently told myself as my eyes closed once more; lulled off to sleep as the ambo doors closed, a siren rang out around me, and I knew I was on route to the hospital]

[pilonciillo]

lol didn’t think someone giving money would give me anxiety

[snzluv3r]

Is it hard dating that isn’t chronically ill? I am another chronically ill person and I’m scared to date someone that isn’t chronically ill because they won’t understand my pain and make me feel bad about it (I’ve had a lot of trauma with it in the past). Just wondering if it’s possible to do and how you and your partner navigate it?

honestly, yes it’s so hard, but only in the sense that i constantly feel like im holding her back or disappointing her. it’s so hard being sick all the time and not knowing when or if im going to be well enough to take her on an actual date or all the other things that my illnesses get in the way of, but she’s the first person i’ve ever known to never ever validate that guilt by making me feel bad for things out of my control.

she always lets me know i don’t have to apologize for bailing last minute or spending our only weekend together sick and in bed asleep for half the time because she knows it’s not something i’ve chosen. i’m so used to people making me feel like im just being lazy and choosing to not participate in things and am purposefully letting people down, especially in romantic relationships with non-chronically ill people, so i totally get the fear and it’s so valid. if you ever wanna talk more in depth my dms are always always open, i hope this made sense

[chamerionwrites]

A thing about adulthood (though not exclusive to adulthood) is that now and then you will find yourself involved in a conversation in which the only truly reasonable response is to say “Even if I were a terrible person with no conscience, I would simply not admit to being a terrible person with no conscience. Out loud. Unprompted. In public.”

And then you have to decide whether to be the person who actually says it, thus taking the heat for Making A Scene

[kaiserkisser]

today is such a stark contrast to yesterday in how much i fucking hate today (vent/rant in tags bc i forgor to do it on my vent one)

[mainfaggot]

how do you cut someone off