#a google search: how not to ghost my friends when i get sad about one tiny thing

[worldofkaeos]

Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

@cate-deriana Thank you so much for the tag!! tbh i havent written in a long time (writer's block + burnout) but this was funn

1 . How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I just finished reading Lockwood and Co and was surviving solely on fanfictions, but i still missed the characters too much and theyve become so real to me i couldnt survive without them!! And then I had this lovely cosy scene play out in my head and it felt warm and lovely like home, and so I started to write it, on my notes app, and it felt really good. And it wasn't meant to be posted or anything, just for me to experience the world again. Then, regularly I would write short scenes of them and daydream, and it was really fun. By the time exams were approaching I had built a solid idea out of that short snippet I first started with, and when exams ended all I could think about was that idea, I spiralled so much I wrote secretly in school and on the train I would source for inspiration, and at night I'd write with spooky music and get vivid images flash across my head for new ideas. I have dreams about it too. In the end I wrote 37k in 2 weeks, even with school and while I was on holiday, and I thought it would be the end but I had more ideas!

Boy, am I long-winded.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

1 (Lockwood and Co.)

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

not even a year! I wrote 7 months since last august and stopped

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Read, definitely! I've learnt a lot from reading, and played around with writing styles. Also, I've gotten a better insight of characters this way and inspiration ✨

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

I actually know that I'm writing when I write 😂 so yes, now I'm less long-winded, more to the point, and writing style changes. I guess in the past I didn't really care for the writing part, I just wanted to experience the world as much as possible through writing which is why my writing is sooo long-winded.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I've once searched how long a body decays if kept at refrigerated temperature in a damp environment. Oh, but I had this incredibly in depth research of a cathedral, I drew out maps and went on 360 virtual tours to learn about them.

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

Anything! I love it most when people point out a certain part in what I write and talk about it. I get really excited like yes I love that part too! It makes me more confident about my writing.

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Crack where the characters are in a tea shop in china, and I used some chinese (with horrible english translations) for a ghost.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Angst, anything with a lot of emotions, I am bad at them because I make myself too sad thinking about it 😂

10. What is the easiest type?

Crack, casefics, action, horror!

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Notes on my phone when i want something quick, but usually google docs on my phone or ipad. In the same account with all my work. Yes, I am messy.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

Detective x Paranormal investigation AU, AUs playing around with lore. Mainly very long AUs

13. What made you choose your username?

Since I was young my friends said I was Kaeos because my name is Kaelyn and I am chaotic

no pressure tags!: @synestheticwanderings @waiting-for-my-hogwarts-letter @menina89 @dangerously-human @almostlikequake @cats-and-metersticks @nomolosk @itripandfallalot @the-biscuit-agreement

[phantomcat94]

Hello this is just a vent post for the void to get my thoughts out without stressing out my friends (I already talk with them a lot about this, hopefully soon my insurance will get approved and I’ll get a therapist to do this with instead) TW suicidal ideation/language, abuse/abusive language

Today was frustrating. I almost got duped by one of those job scams that lists on job searches as a job but is actually a course to learn the skills to *potentially* get a job. Which, like, I initially thought I was a contracted “work when work is available” sort of job, but it was fitted pretty much exactly to my skills, it was remote (so I don’t have to worry about finding out the hard way how much my POTS still affects me in the workplace), it paid decently enough that a few hours a week would have been. You know. ENOUGH. Not to get out of my mom’s house but to have my own money. To afford the things I would really like to have without having to use my moms money, or the very smallest residual amount I get from my OnlyFans, or just putting it on a wishlist where it will rot until the day I die and looking at it wistfully sometimes. Think clothes that fit and aren’t almost 20 years old, a blender that works, a replacement for my sad melted phone case and broken pop socket, little things I don’t NEED but would be nice to have. (Mostly I was hoping to have a little money for a trip mom and I are taking in October. I’d like to visit my high school best friend and pay for my own food. Maybe get a trinket or two at the ren faire, nothing extravagant but some earrings or a necklace maybe, something to remember the trip by)

Anyhow so. The job wasn’t real but was somehow listed on Google jobs literally 50 times in a row from different companies which all linked back to the same site (it’s social sale rep btw) and then I was just. SO ANGRY and FRUSTRATED I had ti scrap todays plans to try to emotionally regulate (ahh, autism)

Some other highly frustrating stuff happened today and it led to me having a meltdown trying to tell my mom that, no, that job I was so excited to apply to wasn’t real, just like the last 20 I’ve found that are suited to my needs. And I’m so ashamed of having my friends say “are you coming to see me” and realizing that, no, I simply can’t afford to. I can barely afford to inhale. My mom had to unretire not only because of me (bitch is SHIT at financial decisions) but I’m certainly making things worse. A very dear friend of mine jokingly pointed out I’m not contributing and I couldn’t look at them and say “I know. It makes me want to kill myself. I spend every day maddened and sickened by the knowledge that I’m a black hole that does nothing but cost money and eat food. I am aware.”

And mom was (for once lmao) so supportive because she offered to have me move home so I could recover from fainting 3 times a day (2022 was a nightmare, man). So that I didn’t have to worry about work, after losing my dream job twice in one year for being disabled (Disney ghosted me and then I was forced to quit my performing job because you can’t perform when you’re unconscious and I just needed to move home). But I carry the shame and guilt of forcing her to unretire because she couldn’t make ends meet without working and I simply couldn’t. And now that I’m able to cognitively, I’m still scared to approach the physical workplace because I’m physically and socially disabled, I don’t know what the stress of work will do to me anymore. Also, getting people to comply with the ADA is like pulling teeth, and most people would realize I need accommodations and just not hire me.

So while mom was being supportive and saying she’d pay for some of the stuff I’m stressed about having to choose between… I remember when she used to threaten to kill me because of how much money she wastes on me. I remember the screaming matches. I have spent my life trying to be worthy of existing, trying to pay my own way and not need anyone to pay for me, and being back where I was at the height of moms abuse is… harrowing. Hearing her be so supportive and comforting is a dissonance that makes my skin crawl because… no. I look at her and think, “but you hate me for SPECIFICALLY this. You’ve said so. For almost 30 years. Many times and in many ways.”

I remember being the burden, the thing that ruined moms life (as well as the only thing keeping her alive, yes at the same time) the reason she never had money or got to do the things she wanted to do— etc etc. It’s not something I’m just gonna let go of and feel less stressed over, that’s the nature of the C-PTSD I got from this whole ordeal growing up.

Anyhow. That’s how my day’s been.

[gukkiebunny]

TW: suicide, heavy suicidal ideation (don't worry, I'm fine, just venting a bit)

I finally talked to someone about jonghyun's death. I'm in a discord server and not many of my friends in said server know about or have much interest in kpop, I learned thursday night/early friday morning that one friend likes kpop (or at the very least shinee and snsd), but a different friend asked me last night who my pfp on discord was. I told her who, and she asked me about him.

I explained to her that if she wanted to search him, to be warned for mentions of death due to his passing. she asked me how and I said "'twas self inflicted" (trying to be lighthearted). I moved to dm's (we were talking in among us ghost chat before) and explained to her that he had struggled with depression and his attempts to get help for it weren't taken very seriously. While googling him she found his note.

I then talked about his music and how he was an advocate for mental health and LGBTQ+ rights in korea, and she asked me for song recs. I gave her a few for SHINee as a group, then at least one solo song from each member.

I won't lie, I was shaking while typing everything out to her. It's been nearly impossible for me to talk about his death aside from acknowledging that he is, in fact, deceased. To be completely honest, his death broke me. I'm sure if I'd had access to pills other than melatonin, I would've ended up in either a psych ward or a grave at the age of 16. I cried 5 separate times that day, and took 80mg of melatonin because all I wanted to do was sleep; part of me hoped it was all a dream and if I took enough pills I'd wake up and he'd still be alive. When I'd go outside to cry so as to not worry my mom and sibling, all that would run through my mind was "how quickly would I die if I fell from the third floor of my building?" "maybe if I die now I'll be able to meet him" "nothing matters anymore, I just want to see him at least once". these weren't even intrusive thoughts. I genuinely wanted to die. It took a few weeks for me to come out of this pit, for me to realize he wouldn't have wanted that. I know he would've been so sad and disappointed if I, in the afterlife, told him that I killed myself so I could finally meet him and tell him how much he meant (and still means) to me.

I still feel drawn to his music when I'm not doing very well mentally. As early as 2015 his music was the sole thing keeping me from breaking down when my grandmother had a major stroke. I would listen to every song on BASE multiple times on the way to and from the hospital. When I have suicidal thoughts, even passive ideation, they're chased away with the single statement "he wouldn't want you to die". I know it sounds silly, he never even knew of my existence, but I feel in my heart of hearts that he would want me to live, and get the help he couldn't, and thrive. So even if I can't get help yet, I live, because he would want me to.

[lalonderose]

hhh

[steve-damngoodbabysitter]

You know there’s something so personal about queer sci-fi or supernatural comics... like I feel like cryptids and mysteries and aliens and monsters are just such a big thing in queer youth or just queer existence in general, at least for me it is. Comic books with supernatural or sci-fi elements that have queer characters as the main role are just so good. Anyways idk I just felt like talking about it cause it’s been such a big part of me discovering myself and my indentity...

Anywhoodle here’s some good comics/graphic novels that fit into the genre (both physical and digital)(be warned I’m kinda terrible at giving summaries without spoiling things so the descriptions may be vague):

- Are you listening By Tillie Walden

Abt two women going on a “road trip” discovering each other and themselves while also dealing with some magical forces (v cool author legit love all of her graphic novels)(physical book)

-On a Sunbeam By Tillie Walden -

Edit: I JUST READ THIS ONE AND HOLY SHIT IS IT GOOD!! Pretty much all of the characters are queer, and the story line is gorgeous! It has found family and sci-fi so it’s like the best thing ever. Definitely cried while reading it!!(physical book)

-Taproot By Keezy Young -

Cute graphic novel about a ghost and a gardeners relationship (I think both physical and digital)

-Lumberjanes By “a whole bunch of authors because it changes from book to book sometimes” -

Series that revolves around these kids at summer camp with some magic/supernatural elements thrown into the mix (physical book series)(Boom! Studios-the people that produce? Publish? the book- change artists every other book sometimes, it seems, in order to give different artists a chance to work on it, so that’s why the authors switch up)

-The Backstagers By “multiple authors/artists cause its published(?) By Boom! Studios” -

Comic abt this high schooler who joins the stage crew of the theater club and the adventures/chaos of the group! Has supernatural elements <3(physical series)

-Paper Rose by v-0-3 on Tapas -

Can’t remember the plot very well cause I haven’t reread it in a while but the basics are “robot man and human man = love+hardship” (Tapas is a free digital reading app which has a ton of awesome comics u should totally check it out!!) (series/story not finished)

-Eerie Crests by Caleb on Tapas -

This series’s art is legit awesome!!I recommend bingeing the updates all in one go so that you don’t forget the plot in between updates like I did :-)) can’t remember a lot of the plot but basically is abt a group of teens in a small town dealing with grief+the supernatural+friendship+relationships+etc (digital book/series) (not finished yet)

-Ghost Lights by fantakoi on Tapas -

IN LOVE WITH THIS SERIES AND JUST FINISHED BINGE REREADING IT ALL!! Has a v unique supernatural story to it and awesome art!! Slow burn romance abt a boy and his best friend who knew each other as supernatural creatures in a past life trying to remember and discover their past(digital series)(not finished yet) (most of the Tapas series are continuously being updated)

-Long Exposure by mars on Tapas -

Nerd+bully gain superpowers after being forced to work on school project with each other+discovering themselves/each other+ dealing with supernatural pwrs (digital series)(completed)

-A Matter of Life and Death by Snarpers -

I can not tell you how much I love this web comic and was so sad when I saw that it wasn’t gonna get finished!! GORGEOUS ART AND GREAT STORY CONCEPT THAT I WILL BUTCHER AT EXPLAINING BUT basically different gods living together+inside tension+slow burn romance+secrets+forgotten memories. Focuses mainly around the gods Life and Death! (digital series) (discontinued, but sooo worth the read because the art is literally stunning)

I’m sure there’s tons more out there, but these are just ones I’ve personally read/know of!

(Also sorry that all the webcomic ones are all mlm and no wlw!! I found them when I was really young around the time when the digital apps were -just- starting to highlight queer content, and most, if not all, of the queer content highlighted was gay (mlm)! There’s definitely more wlw options on Tapas now, I just don’t look regularly for new comics on it to find out what they are) (if I do stumble across some I’ll link them here <3)

[otp-holic]

Will this be the night? (ALSO IN A03)

A random piece of online advertising unleashes some movie memories of a Summer afternoon in 1932

1.5 Ks Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3) Silly drabble born from my love of classic movies... that ended up not having anything to do with classic movies.

BROOKLYN'S KING'S THEATRE

Poster for Cary Grant's Retrospective. Printed paper 2025.

A poster for the upcoming month long celebration of the movies of Cary Grant to be held in Brooklyn.

Bucky is not expecting a vivid memory of the past to jump at him from a piece of online location-targeted promotion popping on his phone as he and Steve are wandering around the neighborhood on a random Friday.

But the 21st century works in mysterious ways and Google is kindly inviting him to check “Cary Grant: A Celebration”, a month-long chronological retrospective of all his movies taking place at a nearby hipster cinema starting… in half an hour.

He beams as a long string of memories of the both of them in different afternoons and movies plays in his head; how they counted the cents for the admission price, and how Bucky learned to sneak into the movie every time that did not add up to two full tickets.

“Buck, you’ve been smiling at your phone in silence for a whole minute,” Steve interrupts his daydreaming. “Should I be jealous? Worried?”

“Sorry,” he answers, still smiling about the memories. “I think I’m leaving you for Google, they see inside my one hundred years old soul; But I might give you another chance if you don’t mind a change of plans for the afternoon.”

“Lead the way, but can you give me some heads up?” Steve chuckles, more than used to Bucky’s ways.

He takes Steve’s hand to direct them towards the movie theatre and thinks about how much information he wants to share.

Although he is the one who still relies on the comfort of 30s and 40s movies whereas Steve keeps getting bolder with his options, Steve has always loved Cary Grant and Bucky thinks he’s going to appreciate his choice since this particular movie has a history (sad history, maybe) for them, so he debates on whether to tell him or not.

“We are going to the movies. But the real ones, not that shit on Netflix you keep choosing,” he settles for half-disclosure.

“Damn, mister life in black and white strikes again. Embrace the 21st century, Barnes, I think you’ll like it!”, Steve laughs.

“Hey, I embrace it more than you do! At least I look the part of a mid-thirties man from it instead of a fifty-year-old hiding in fucking khakis. Albeit a very hot one, I’ll give you that.”

They both laugh. It’s not the first time these remarks fly between them and having a routine, running jokes, and running pet peeves is very soothing after everything they have gone through.

They’re getting closer to the cinema now, and Bucky can already see the Billboard announcing the retrospective and a small queue forming upfront. He takes a side look at Steve to see if he has noticed and he can certainly tell that his curiosity has peaked.

“Surprise! Call it a win-win, it might be up my alley, but you used to love Cary Grant movies,” Bucky smiles as they reach their place in the queue and glance at the program for the afternoon.

‘This is the Night (1932)’, the poster says, ‘Cary Grant's feature film debut on the big screen’

Bucky is deep in nostalgia, remembering a summer day of 32 when they were waiting in line for the same film and how the evening turned out, but when he looks in search of his partner’s reaction, it’s not what he expected at all.

“Steve, you ok?” he asks, worried at seeing Steve frozen in place.

Steve nods. His whole face is deep red, but at least he is responsive. He looks ashamed and Bucky is shifting from worried to curious.

“Jesus, this movie,…” he chuckles now.

“You seem to remember, then. I thought you might.”

It was not a happy memory: Steve had felt really ill halfway through, looking white as a sheet of paper and about to die on Bucky. They had to leave the unfinished movie and run home, as per Steve’s request. But as far as Bucky remembers, nothing to be ashamed of.

“Why are you acting weird? Oh my god, Steven, are you allergic to this movie?”

The silence before Steve answers is a little too long and the queue moves forward.

“Shit, this is not easy to say and I’m sorry in advance.”

“Duly noted, but could you try to explain? I’m lost and I didn’t expect a full-on confession of something to be sorry about when I decided to follow Google’s intelligent advice to an unfinished movie. I just thought it was a good excuse for a change of plans. And kind of closure.”

Steve takes a breath and starts talking.

“I wasn’t honest with you, Buck. Back then…” he stops, searching for words, nervously musing on his beard. “Ah, I cannot believe this hasn’t come up at some point, but there it goes. I absolutely lied to you that day: I wasn’t sick or half dying and I am very very guilty of using my poor health to run away from that place and that movie, but I did the only thingI could think of.”

Bucky is at a loss for words, he’s still deciding if he is angry, curious, or somewhere in between.

“But… but you were feverish and white as a ghost and you said you had palpitations!”

Steve seems to think for a moment again and the bastard laughs so loud they get a curious look from the people behind. And taking advantage of the queue moving up again, he gets really really close to Bucky who honestly thinks he’s going to try to kiss himself out of the situation since it’s a bulletproof strategy.

But he doesn’t: He goes for Bucky’s ear instead, and whispers.

“I had a boner like you wouldn’t believe.”

Bucky gasps loudly totally taken aback while Steve takes a step back and looks at him in the eye more amused and hungry than ashamed, but still blushing.

“But hey, not all lies! I was somehow sick. And pale since my blood was… otherwise occupied. And I was barely 14!”

Bucky laughs at the dork. His dork. But the information is still making its way into his brain.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims as it starts to settle, “You piece of shit, you pulled the poor sick child card when you were just plain horny. I was worried to my bones as we run to your home. Shame on you Rogers!”

“Me? It was your fucking fault! Yours and Cary Grant’s and your stupid grins and stupid chins, those clefts!” he’s screaming in whispers so Steve Rogers’ teenage boner doesn’t make it to the news, but he’s talking as if he was pronouncing an important speech to the UN, “What was a 14-year-old in the fucking 30s popping one upon seeing an actor who kind of looked like a very tall version of his very male best friend to do?”

He is about to say something, but Steve literally covers his mouth with one hand giving Bucky no other option but to stick his tongue and lick the palm.

“Gross, Buck. I’m not done!”, he dries his hand on Buckys’ shirt before he goes on. “I’m not done because as I was still processing all that, you kept brushing your goddamned hand with mine when you went for popcorn! Over and over and over. It was torture. I have palpitations now just thinking about it.”

Bucky full-on laughs. One of those real ones that come more and more lately and that he honestly thought he would never get to experience again.

They have reached the box office, so he doesn’t push it further. For now.

“Two tickets for `This is the Night´, please.” Bucky smiles at the box-office guy. “He is paying, tho. I paid last time we tried to see this one and he didn’t have the decency to stay until the end.”

He actually feels like a teen as Steve takes his hand into the theatre, as he very intentionally buys popcorn to share, and as they start full-on making out on their seats during the commercials once the lights are out.

“Wanna know another secret, Buck?” Steve whispers a few minutes later, eyes on the starting movie as he brushes Bucky’s hand with intention over the popcorn bucket. His flustered face and recently kissed lips bathed by dancing lights and shadows coming from the screen. “It’s a good thing we were already together in ‘38 when “Bringing up baby” came out because I was able to plan ahead and lure you into that memorable window fuck at our old apartment before the show, or we would have totally missed one of our favorite movies, too.”

Bucky hates Steve with the force of the universe. Or maybe not, but he’s not playing clean.

“Raincheck on the movie?” he manages to whisper back as he drives Steve’s hand to his already noticeable hard-on. Two can play this game.

“Oh, poor Buck. Do you have palpitations” Steve chuckles, lips wet on Bucky’s ear and gripping harder on his bulge instead of letting go. “Was that the memory of the window fuck? Or all the making out? Tell me so I don’t do it again.”

“You are a punk, Steve Rogers,” Bucky answers before standing up to leave, closely followed by a smiling Steve.

Argh, sorry for deleting and uploading again, but i had technical issues with this.... so here it goes again. I need to free myself from this one!

[intoanothermind]

Bright - Luke

Word Count: 1.3k

- Luke x reader

Synopsis: you are the shy sister of the drummer of Sunset Curve. You’re also a very talented musician, but are too shy to pursue it. But when your brother, your boyfriend and your friend die before their biggest concert, you decide to play music in their honour.

Masterlist

(This is my first time writing straight to English, instead of first in Portuguese and then translated, so a few sentences might not be written correctly. Make sure to check out my Reggie ones as well!)

Stand Tall - Reggie imagine

Flying Solo - Reggie imagine

Akai Ito - Reggie imagine (soulmate au)

—

Seeing her brother and his friends rehearsing for their big night was incredible. Y/N knew they were good, but was never really there when they performed, so she felt really proud when they invited her to see them on the stage of the Orpheum. They finished playing Now or Never and followed Bobby when he went to the tables to talk to a girl. Y/N raised an eyebrow and opened a small smile to that before looking back down to her journal. Bobby was never one to talk smoothly to girls.

“What are you doing?” Y/N jumped at the sudden voice in front of her.

It was Luke.

She smiled shyly, considering closing the journal, but it’s not like Luke haven’t seen her notes.

“Just a few lyrics thrown here and there.” she answered, leaning over to kiss his lips, not really caring if he was sweaty.

“I don’t think I’m okay with seeing my little sister kissing someone.” Alex interrupted them.

“I don’t think you have a choice anymore.” Reggie laughed.

Y/N smiled shyly at them and blushed. “You were incredible up there, boys.”

“Thank you, milady.” Reggie said, bowing to her and making her let out a small laugh.

“But I think you would be too if you played these songs.” Luke said, reading through her journal over her shoulder.

Alex hugged her slightly. “I agree, you write some pretty good songs.”

“No, no, no.” Y/N answered almost too quickly. “This is just... This is just a hobby, I would never have the courage to sing in front of people.”

“Well, I think you should at least consider it.” Reggie said. “Imagine how cool it would be if we opened each other concert!”

Y/N smiled at the scene playing on her mind, but she knew that probably would never happen. She was just too shy to try it.

“Who knows.” That was all she said.

“We’re going for some street dogs before the show, would you like to join?” offered Alex.

“Minus Bobby, he’s too busy flirting with the waitress.” Reggie pointed to the fourth part of the band on the other side of the room talking to a curly-haired girl.

“No, I’m good.” she said. “I’ll wait for you guys here.”

Alex and Reggie walked to the door, but Luke waited for a bit. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to wait for you guys in the VIP area.”

“Alright, we’ll be right back.”

Luke made sure to kiss her one more time before joining the boys. Y/N went back to working in her lyrics, not knowing this would be the last time she saw them.

 ~*~

 “Now that we know the plan worked, we need to work on the set list for tonight.” Julie suggested. They just had the confirmation of they playing in the Orpheum that night, hopefully in time for the boys to solve their unfinished business and cross over. “I was thinking Stand Tall as the first song. It would vibe with Y/N’s songs as well.”

“Y/N?” asked Reggie, looking up from his bass. “I thought we were opening for Panic! At the Disco.”

“I thought so too, but apparently Panic is tomorrow and Y/N is today.” she explained.

“Who’s Y/N?” Alex got up from his drums and approached the girl, feeling his heart beating hard in his chest.

“You guys probably don’t know her, she started her career after your death. Let me google her.” Julie took her phone and searched for the singer. “Her songs are pretty good and she’s really famous nowadays, but she likes to play often at the Orpheum. She never said why, just that it was a special place for her. Here.”

The boys approached her and stood shocked when recognized the woman.

“That’s... That’s...” Reggie struggled to talk.

“That’s my little sister!” exclaimed Alex, still surprised.

“What?!”

“Yes, and she was Luke’s girlfriend.” Reggie said.

Luke took Julie’s phone to see the picture up close and opened a sad smile. “She still has the same soft eyes.”

“I never knew she knew you guys.” Julie said. “But thinking about it, she always dedicated her performances to her brothers and their friends. Said it was their dream to make music.”

“She was always a great musician as well.” Alex said, feeling nostalgic. “But she was always too shy to try.”

“Yeah, but she was always walking around with a journal full of lyrics.” Luke said.

“Do you guys think she’ll be okay if she sees you in the stage?”

The ghosts shared a hesitant look.

 ~*~

 Y/N was excited to see this new hologram band. She never heard of it before, but she got curious over it when she heard they were opening her concert instead of Downside. Normally she would be in her dressing room until she had to go upstage, trying to calm her nerves and thinking about her lost brother and friends. That’s why she kicked her shyness to a dark room in her mind and pursued a career in the music industry. It was their dream to play music and connect with people. When she lost the most important people in her life, she decided not to let her nerves interfere, just like Luke always told her. If playing music was how she felt connected with them, so be it - she’ll do it.

But for some reason she felt like she should watch the opening performance. Call it a sixth sense, but this time, she didn’t stay in the dressing room. When she heard a girl starting a speech in the stage, Y/N walked out and stayed at the corner of the venue, listening.

The girl up in the stage was young. Probably had the age Y/N had when her friends died. But she sure did had a voice of a angel. And played the piano like a experienced professional. Y/N smiled, feeling the emotion in Julie’s voice rushing through her as well. But then something happened. At first Y/N got confused. The hologram drummer that appeared in the stage looked too similar to her brother. When bassist appeared though, Y/N got into a shocked state. And she started crying when the guitarist appeared as well. That wasn’t possible. As much as Y/N liked to think they were still there somehow, they couldn’t be there. But they seemed too real, running around while playing and interacting with Julie. When they walked on the bridge tough, Luke’s eyes caught her own. His eyes shined and his smile widened. Right before they disappeared, Luke pointed Alex in her direction and her brother smiled and waved discreetly.

Julie waved to the crowd even after the boys disappeared. But Y/N was still getting over state of shock. It wasn’t possible. Unless...

“Y/N, you’ll be up in the stage in ten minutes.” a crew member put her attention back to reality. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” her voice was a bit raspy. She coughed before speaking again. “Yeah, I’m alright. But I need a favour. It’s kinda of important.”

“Sure, what is it?” the man asked.

“Can you put me in contact with Julie and the Phantoms?”

[boop-le-snoot]

Doll Parts | tony stark x reader

i love him so much it just turns to hate // he only loves those things because he loves to see them break // and someday you will ache like i ache // Hole - Doll Parts

all hurt comfort. angst. no happy ending. big sad. tony could have been like this, you know. he was like this to pepper at some point. i don't know why i am like this today. rated M for themes of (implied) addiction & cheating and non-explicit mentions of intimacy. word count: 3,3k

It wasn't as if she was blind or dumb. She saw the way he treated everyone around him; whenever a single person got too close he'd push them away, consciously or not. The man loved pushing everybody's buttons as if he was playing Galaga for a living; rapidly, mercilessly, with intent. Tony Stark was not a man to whom a person would give their heart willingly.

It was her own fault she went and gave hers away, to him, of all people. And sometimes, it did feel like he loved her, in his own way. Tony would shower her with gifts and affection, cling to her whenever he wasn't away on SI business, and God, the sex was out of this world. Sometimes, she felt as if she would suddenly burst into a blinding flash of light, scalding and deafening, that would sprout from the invisible wounds his fingers left on her skin. Like fine china, she cracked little by little under his steady, tender hands.

The first time he'd ended their short, by average standards, but long - by his, relationship, it didn't come as a surprise. She had never held illusions on ensnaring the world's most notorious playboy. Younger and less jaded, she amicably agreed to get her things that very same day, blocked his number and left for an overdue vacation in the tropics. Being able to browse the gossip sites speculating on their lack of public appearances whilst sipping a Strawberry Daiquiri was a much better alternative to spending her nights holed up in rainy Manhattan, having to answer numerous "I told you so" calls from friends and relatives.

Maybe, three daiquiris should've been enough. But she'd quit smoking because he said the smell bothered him and she- well, she could do anything she wanted now. Being alone and not dating a very public figure definitely had way more perks than she previously had taken for granted in her much less exposed life. That's how the heartache began to recede: it was hard to mope when fun was calling for you by your name.

Some of Tony's character traits had migrated onto her. Which wasn't bad per se, she had been told she could use to loosen up. Her friends rejoiced in the newfound adventurousness, never missing an opportunity to go out, throw a party, go on a clubbing spree. She was game and she was enjoying it. Dolled up and eyes sparkling, the newfound confidence radiated off her like a beacon, attracting just about every single like-minded person in a five mile radius.

Tony's champagne he had sent to their table meant nothing. Her friends laughed and giggled and asked her all about the juicy details about the billionaire; as much as she searched the rowdy crowd for a familiar pair of baby doe browns, they weren't anywhere within sight. So she went back to talking and smiled as bright as the strobe lights, throwing down a whiskey shot to water the burning ache in her chest.

She found him on the dancefloor. Seconds after she stepped her foot into the mass of grinding bodies Tony was there, an equally happy and intoxicated smile on his face and arms wide open, as if they hadn't parted ways at all. She wanted to be angry with him, she really did, she wanted to snide his frivolity and the possessive way that he had the audacity to treat her.

His eyes, they were her untold weakness. She hadn't seen him so happy in months. Just once, she agreed, she'd let it slide. And so they danced, bodies accustomed to each other in the way that seemed to be impossible for her to achieve with anyone since the day that she left Tony Stark.

A splitting headache and a cold, empty bed greeted her the next morning. Thankfully, her clothes were laying haphazardly on the floor of the bedroom - the bed that was not his own but, rather, as she assumed, one of the many guest rooms in his tower.

Not the one to usually harbour shame of her very human needs, she felt like a cheap whore when she got dressed and grabbed her purse, making a beeline for the door to the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, she was greeted with a woman in a professional suit - tall, strawberry blonde and as cold as the Arctic, beautiful in the Vogue-magazine, unattainable way.

"Good morning," The woman spoke in a pleasant tone.

She wanted to retch from the false cheerfulness. "Good morning, ma'am. I was just leaving," Refusing to bow to her own shame, she flashed an equally cheerful grin towards the blonde.

"I'm Mr. Stark's personal assistant, my name is Pepper Potts," They briefly shook hands, neither of them wanting to touch the other longer than it was necessary. "There is a car waiting for you downstairs. Be sure to take the left exit."

Internally fuming, she smiled slightly wider, seeing no need to introduce herself or prolong the awkward interaction longer than necessary. "Thank you, Ms. Potts, that will not be necessary. I have arranged my own ride. Have a nice day, ma'am," With that, she pressed the button once again, entering the elevator with the expression of polite contentment glued to her face like a persistent piece of dog shit she couldn't shake off the bottom of her shoe.

Ms. Potts' façade slipped slightly - she must've been new - as the blonde ran a sharply observant look over the woman in the elevator, pulling out her phone as soon as the elevator door was halfway closed. That was quickly forgotten, her head growing clearer with each second it was pressed against the cold window of the cab she'd called on the way downstairs.

It was a mistake, a perfectly human accident that happened to the best of them. Only it left a bitter residue somewhere south of her ribcage, something acrid and viscous that even alcohol couldn't melt. The more she drank, the thicker that ball of rolled up frustration became, bleeding into her work, her relationships with her friends. It was tiresome to keep craving something so far out of her reach.

The exhaustion grew day by day, until her chest felt constricted for most part of the day and all the oxygen in the whole wide world wasn't enough. Her heartache was saved, strangely enough, by aliens - they rained down on New York city like frogs during the Plague in the book of Exodus; as if God himself was angry at the state of affairs of his favourite pet earthlings. For a time, she couldn't afford to worry about her broken heart and focused on the dilapidated city, landing her resources and skills whenever, whenever she could.

Late at night, exhausted and drained, she allowed herself to flick through the news, eagerly soaking up the new details that seemed to pop up every other day. Aliens were real, Thor was one, Captain America was alive and her ex-boyfriend was now a member of the merry band of misfit superheroes.

She had never taken his hero sidegig too seriously. Tony had some good in him, he wasn't the attention-demanding supervillain-waiting-to-happen, but neither he was hero material. The Tony she knew was akin to a hyperintelligent kid left without supervision. Consequences were a slight setback, not a surefire deterrent for this man.

Her building remained mostly intact - some cosmetic damages that were repaired quickly and did not concern her apartment at all - so she stayed in the same place, much to everyone's dismay. A good chunk of her friends had moved away from NYC as soon as they could - not that she blamed them - but the calls of her family, consisting of begging and nagging her to move states, were beginning to climb over the annoying line very quickly. More often than not, she ignored all calls that weren't from her friends or work.

It shouldn't have surprised her that Tony showed up on her balcony one night - but the shriek that left her was utterly involuntary. His armored suit was noisy and clunky, just like was expected from a huge chunk of metal. Tony's face was a ghost of the man she used to know: he was pale, the bags under his eyes were fit to carry groceries in and he'd lost more than a few pounds around his middle.

Not that she had a glow-up. Work hours were long, volunteer work was by far more exhausting and emotionally draining. With her support system scattered across the country and free hours few and in-between, she'd acquired a shrink. Nightmares went away and the sluggishness, too, thanks to a couple of convenient prescriptions. It seemed like the professionals were as clueless as any in dealing with the aftermath of an alien invasion.

"You weren't returning my calls," Tony stated in the way of hello. It was so like him, to be skipping the pleasantries and glossing over the details.

"I have your number blocked," She replied unkindly, raising an eyebrow as the suit retracted and the man, wearing worn jeans and an oil-stained tee, stepped into the twilight of her home without an invitation.

"I wanted to make sure you are alive and your home is being rebuilt in case it was demolished. Stark foundation is shouldering most of the expenses," He offered in the way of explanation, beelining for the nice whiskey she kept in a tumbler in the living room.

The snort escaped her lips before she could help it; brain chronically overtired but medicated; Adderall and weariness. He was never a good liar, only a good faker. "Why are you here, Tony?" All of it: the damages, the casualties, all of it was public record, accessible 24/7. All he had to do was open Google.

He turned around, scanning her head-to-toe, in that not-quite-convinced way. "Just wanted to see if you're okay," He tried for nonchalant but his eyes were haunted. The whiskey glass he was holding empty in seconds.

She walked up to him, staying at an arm's distance from the man, before doing a slow, sarcastic twirl. "I'm fine. Not a scratch. Was in Staten Island that day."

He nodded, not at all convinced. "Good," Before slamming the glass down with such force, she was afraid the countertop now sported a rounded indent. Fingers twitching, he pulled the woman into himself before she could utter a peep, smashing their lips together without any grace, paying no attention to the way she froze as still as a statue. "God, I missed you. Couldn't bear the thought of you dying..." He mumbled in between harshly biting the plump of her bottom lip and steering the kiss towards his wishes, hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head.

He tasted like whiskey and desperation.

She couldn't not give in. She'd felt the same way when she watched his red and gold armor fly into that wormhole, missile in tow. She'd felt the same despair clawing at her ribcage when his lifeless body flew back from it before being caught by the rabid green monstrosity.

It wasn't graceful and it wasn't pretty; feeling like a monster herself, she responded the same way he did. She shredded his clothes, she clawed his back, leaving wet crimson streaks in the wake of her nails and whispered the ugliest, nastiest truths she had denied herself for so long. He left with the promise to stay in contact and for once, he did.

Nothing was the same. Tony was far from the careless, extravagant billionaire he used to be. These days he was a cynical, analytical asshole that one-upped people even before he had a real need to do so. Both of them had changed, really. She was not the tender uptown girl either.

The nights with him were rare and long; the nights alone with her work were recurrent and longer. The tower stood out on the NYC skyline like a sore thumb, beckoning with the unattainable snipe hunt of having something stable with the world's #1 superhero, Tony Stark. Each time they met, she felt almost as dirty as the time she stood in the elevator under the scrutiny of Pepper Potts.

Even if he didn't outright hide her. She'd ran into Black Widow and Clint Barton once or twice, each of them casting a glance at her Special Visitor badge before muttering niceties and moving on with their day. It was only slightly better with the Captain: he got in the elevator two floors below Tony's penthouse at 8 AM in the morning, just as she was leaving for work - dressed in a sharp pantsuit that was not-quite on Pepper's level. The soldier must've assumed she was a high-rank employee or a friend, the tips of his cheeks blushing as he spoke a quiet: "Good morning, ma'am," In that semi-formal tone of his.

Seeing a grown man get so flustered was quite adorable. "Good morning, Captain Rogers, sir," She replied in a matching tone, humoring him.

The elevator stopped suddenly and a few employees got in, staring openly at the national icon, who had his eyebrows slanted in confusion. The woman shared his sentiment: it was Tony's private elevator. She guessed all the other ones were too full in the mornings so the tower's AI put the underused one to work.

Or, at least, that's what she tried to convince herself of anyway. It wouldn't be past Tony to get jealous over something as trivial as sharing an elevator car with Captain America.

The plateau of normalcy didn't last long. Just as she was opening her third bottle of wine for the night, laptop open on the kitchen counter and proudly displaying "Tony Stark and Pepper Potts - America's newest power couple?" article, she realised he was a coward, too. Slowly but surely, he had ghosted her, not even bothering with an explanation of his sudden unavailability, the several dates missed and even more postponed indefinitely.

They were never going to be a normal couple. She had made her peace with that, ugly and depressing - but it was real. She thought what they had was real. She finally had admitted to herself that she loved him, loved an impossible man, loved to the bottom of Hell and pitfire. The fireworks under her skin had never fully gone away, she realised as more and more ugly sobs broke from her chapped lips.

She blocked his number again and bought herself a new one, deleting the "Tony Stark" contact for good. There was more than enough work to do and the time to feel sorry for herself was sparse. And if she picked up a habit to make sure the time working was spent with proper efficiency, without soaking documents in saltwater that her eyes seemed to overproduce those days? It wasn't a big deal. She needed to get back on her feet somehow, without being dragged by a man who wasn't even present to actively be ruining her life anymore.

If anything, she thought she should feel grateful. The blinding light, the stars that exploded and shone inside her only for Tony, became something poisonous and vile. It wasn't the bitter taste of regret; rather, she felt a flash of ravenous, burning anger every time his name or his face popped up in a press article within her eyesight. Love and hate weren't that different when it came to the intensity: she basked in those newfound feelings, taking care to pick apart and neatly sort each of his perceived flaws on a cute little shelf in her overtaxed brain and fatigued heart.

It wasn't healthy. A convenient escape for the summer; a cabin far, far away from the busy New York city - she took up the offer and relocated there, being content with working remotely, drinking strawberry mimosas by the lakeside. Day by day, the clarity of her mind returned, lulled into a false sense of security by the tranquil trees slowly swaying in the breeze and wide ripples in the water.

Tony seemed to be enjoying bringing chaos into her life and making her miserable. The quinjet landed right on the neatly manicured lawn in front of the cabin, several obviously exhausted and wounded superheroes dismounting the vehicle, Tony looking sheepish but determined in the lead.

She wasn't completely unaware of the rest of the world and knew of the fiasco the Avengers recently had. Was it the half-dead, limping Widow or the baby blues of the Captain, she couldn't tell, but the woman ushered them into her house, gathering the tools needed for first aid with haste. Fate wasn't looking to give her a break.

As soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen, alone, Tony was there, looking much like that time on the balcony, baby doe browns turned up to eleven and a groveling speech prepared on demand. He'd noticed her weight loss and the ashen tone of her skin, the prominent veins and the bags under her eyes. She was as obvious as a brick to the face with her vices.

She slapped him. He winced, but stayed quiet, preparing himself for the storm - and storm him she did, keeping quiet enough for most of the team to be able to tactfully ignore the scolding Tony was getting. "I despise, you, Stark. You're a coward. Do not dare to set foot in my house ever again."

Needless to say, the superheroes departed shortly after Natasha's injuries were stabilised and frowning, disappointed Thor and Steve (they'd asked her to address them by their first names) bashfully apologized for their sudden intrusion and any discomfort they might have caused. She smiled at Steve, wide and big; refusing to admit it was done just to spite Tony, she joked and blushed in response to the Captain.

Tony did not attempt to contact her again. For some time, she lived in fear - irrational one at that - he'd appear and wreck her life one more, final time, before admiring the destruction and leaving her a steaming pile of ashes on the floor. But seasons passed and all of it faded, like a vivid, terrible nightmare.

Piece by piece, her life was getting put back together. His name stopped invoking a swarm of feelings she needed to drown just to stay afloat; there were news regarding him, another violent altercation, and she simply flicked the TV back to adult swim. New friends and new hobbies were being made; the fine cracks made by his agile fingers were being filled with the gold of newer, better discoveries.

There was always something going on in the superhero world and finally one of the topics reached her line of work: mutant rights. She'd never stopped being a volunteer after that NYC invasion, making new connections in a domain previously unexplored, it paid off in spades regarding her career growth. The connections were vital to be able to climb the corporate ladder successfully.

Stark showed up at her door three days after half of his merry band of misfits were pronounced fugitives. This time, she expected it. She knew better than to expect him to assume responsibility by himself - a quick Google search and his relationship status was listed as once again single - the Virginia Potts she knew would not have let anything like that happen. Stark was on his own.

"They betrayed me," He'd said, from behind the door she had cracked open a few inches, to make him know he wasn't welcome in her home.

"I think you know now, how I felt then," She didn't falter, ignoring the way his still freshly-bruised face darkened. "As far as I am concerned, you deserve it. Goodbye, Tony." She shut the door without waiting for his response, hearing his footsteps slowly back away as she made herself another coffee.

Tony Stark taglist: @another-stark-sub @letsby @mostly-marvel-musings @rdjesus4ever @ladyeliot

Well um 💀 yeah. I'll go and attempt to scavenge some serotonin somewhere now. Thanks for reading! 💖✨

[lucientelrunya]

WIP Tag Game

I was tagged by @s1utspeare, thank you so much for always thinking of me, that always makes my day 🥺.

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

Okay, all my WIPs are in google docs and most of them have a separate doc for all the notes and the snippets I cut out (and the big ones like Lonely House and Sound of war have a third doc for everything that has been posted because they don't load smoothly on my phone when they get too big), I don't think I'm going to add those. I also added the fandom at the beginning, so I don't get confused ^^°°° Because: Everything has at least a working title, mostly lines from songs that I like and I tend to change them frequently, always searching for the perfect title.

TLT - Sound of War - The Crystal Menace & Promise in the Dark: My Mecha AU and what I am currently writing for the most. It's going to have a second part, but since I tend to write everything in one doc and just cut out the things that have been posted and that are done, it's just one doc for both parts.

TLT - Love is like ghosts: A M9-era fuba short story (hopefully oneshot) where Ba Ye gets cursed/poisoned and Fo Ye and Rishan have to make a deal with a very strange man to get the antidote/anti-curse(?).

TLT - Underneath it all, we're just savages (hidden behind shirts, ties and marriages): Another M9-era fuba short story with Rishan-whump, a mysterious tomb and Fo Ye and Ba Ye being under the influence of said tomb.

TLT - Fofuba Smut Oneshots: Even though there are different scenarios with Fo Ye/Rishan, Ba Ye/Rishan and Fo Ye/Ba Ye/Rishan, and all of them are in progress, they don't get separate docs. I am very, very slow when writing smut...

TLT - There's an old familiar silence: And another M9 story with Fo Ye, Ba Ye & Rishan trying to find an antidote for a poisoned Yin Xinyue in another mysterious tomb. Of course with Rishan-whump and eventual fuba at the end. I am so predictable and boring XD

TLT - All the King's horses: The only thing that's not fuba. This is a Hei Xiazi/Zhang Rishan Immortal AU where they are both very, very old and have been together for a thousand years or so until Xiazi gets cursed so Rishan forgets him again and again. I don't know if I'm ever actually going to write that one, maybe it'll go away if I just ignore it long enough?

TLT - Fragile and composed: This is my 'ohhh now I want to write a story where Fo Ye & Rishan get kidnapped and tortured, too!'-story. Very, very dark.

TLT - You got my heart on it's knees: Yet another M9 era oneshot for Valashu's prompt about sad and pouty Rishan where Ba Ye is mean to him and he gets very sad and pouty.

ST - Until my darkness goes: Stranger Things and Harringrove, I started this one in 2019 after watching season 2, so it's of course canon-divergent, featuring powers!Billy, enemies to friends to lovers and the whole gang. I don't know if I'll ever finish it, because I haven't really worked on it since september 2019...

ST - It's always darkest before the dawn: Another Stranger Things Harringrove story, very very dark Billy-whump. Just like the other Stranger Things one I haven't touched it since 2019...

O - Dark Reign: Original Story about a Vampire and a Werewolf who fall in love with each other and get caught up in a big war to save the world from demons and total destruction. Rewrite of an old story I wrote with a friend and I haven't really worked on it for quite a while... I don't think I know 11 people... Let me see, maybe, @gaiahenshin, @elletromil, @daydreamorama, @lacommunarde, @kholran. (Is it okay to tag you? Please tell me if it's not okay!) And everyone who reads this and wants to talk about their WIP, please feel tagged!

[dadsbongos]

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right? 

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant. 

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it. 

Hi 

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda. 

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks 

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.” 

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

~~

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him. 

That would be heaven.

[swiftgronmasterpost]

Spring/Summer/Fall 2013 - The End(?)

Click here for an appropriately sad Swiftgron breakup playlist.

I don’t know if it’s important or not but Dianna wishes several friends a late happy birthday on twitter, apologizing for missing the actual day through this spring and summer.  It seems like maybe she’s going through something (like a bad break up?) because it’s not like her to miss friends’ birthdays.

March 26, 2013 - Maybe a relevant tweet?

April 7, 2013 - Dianna tweets a photo of James Dean in a day dream like setting:

April 16, 2013 - The article that outed them:

Someone made a fake article that said Swiftgron was dating:

Dianna tweets seven times that day which is a bit much for her.

The hashtag here stands out to me:

The fake article goes viral and all week people are tweeting about the possibility that Dianna and Taylor are dating.

April 23, 2012

It seems to culminate on this day.  Many people are buzzing about Swiftgron and this actress tweets:

That’s right at midnight.

About 12 hours later Dianna deletes her public Tumblr:

On that same day Dianna reblogs several things on her private Tumblr.  These two stand out to me:

She reblogged both of these posts and the only hashtag they had in common was “#lost love” - she was searching that hashtag.

I think it’s very clear that today is the day Swiftgron 2.0 broke up.  I believe they were forced to by their management teams due to being outed.

April 24, 2013 - Taylor seems regretful/stressed out she screenshots her text to Austin and posts:

I think Dianna’s obviously upset about this and as an act of defiance she tweets at Taylor a few days later (Taylor does not respond.)

April 29, 2013

Instead Taylor posts on Dianna’s Birthday (April 30) a silly google search (very DIanna in nature tbh) with a play on the lyrics from 22:

Taylor had the week of Dianna’s 27th birthday off of the Red tour (it was scheduled like that) but as far as we know they did not hang out.

May 4, 2013 - Ours

At her first show since their supposed break-up, Taylor performs Ours as a surprise song. She introduces it by saying: “This is a song about how, when you fall in love everybody starts to give you their opinion. I imagine it could be really hard to make a relationship last, I wouldn’t know. But, given that everyone is giving you their own opinion about it, I think that the only opinion you should really listen to is yours and if you love that person, that should be all that matters.”

Dianna dyes her hair brown and goes to Morocco a week later with Ashley (”You searched the world for something else, To make you feel like what we had”) from about May 11 - May 14 or 15.  While there she attends the A Small World relaunch. ASW could be viewed as a bit “sketchy” if you will.  I think this is where she befriends Olivia Wilde.

This is Dianna’s first (known) trip to Morocco (Derek Blasberg is there too) but she seems to be drawn there over and over again after this, even marrying Winston Marshall there (and possibly meeting another boyfriend, Gus Wenner there.)

May 19, 2013 - Billboard Music Awards in Las Vegas

Taylor wins 8 awards and says this during her acceptance speech:

This and the performance of Ours makes me think Taylor is bitter about a break up right now, even though publicly she broke up with Harry back in January.

This is also the event where Taylor is famously grossed out by Justin and Selena’s hetero nonsense and does this:

It seems like as always, Taylor has a lot going on right now...some kind of drama with Justin is boiling but it’s possible she’s also referencing her breakup with Dianna in her acceptance speech.

Dianna pops back up in NYC.

May 20, 2013 - WLW icon Kristen Stewart apparently spends the night at Taylors?

May 28, 2013 - Taylor plays Haunted on the Red Tour and gives a speech:

"This is a song that I haven't played on this tour so far. It came up when one of my friends tweeted the lyrics to it today and it reminded me that I haven't played this song in about two years. It has to do with the fact that, you know people talk about ghosts all the time. You just kind of imagine it being this supernatural thing, but there's another kind of ghost and it's just a person who is out there walking in the world or just doesn't love you anymore and that's a whole different kind of being haunted." Seems like she’s really going through it.

July 2, 2013 - Anniversary of Hyannis Port trip and interesting private Tumblr post from Dianna:

Bad things happen this summer.  Cory Monteith passes away and Taylor is assaulted at a meet and greet by a DJ.

July 2013 - Dianna buys a house in LA (I Wish You Would)

August 2013 - Dianna’s whosirmesir moniker gets outed and she stops blogging under that tumblr account.

August 14, 2013 - Taylor is in a weird place according to the Lover diaries:

1.  she seems to have basically written The Lakes here

2.  she’s really harping on themes she ends up addressing in I Know Places, Out of the Woods, and Wonderland

August 29, 2013 - Dianna steps out with restaurateur Nick Mathers.  

Not sure what to make of this one.  Dianna seems to date two types of men:  1. teeny bopper actors for bearding and pr purposes (it generally seems) and 2. rich businessmen.  Nick is type 2, but their relationship is reported on as if it’s PR.  “Sources” call up gossip sites to fill them in on the relationship and both their projects get plugged along with announcements on them as a couple:

I don’t know if they were more or less legit but she goes out with Taylor five days later...

September 4, 2013 - The Fun! Concert:

Swiftgron’s last pre-Kaylor public sighting - they go to a Fun! concert in LA

It’s just a split instant of video footage but Sarah Hyland uploads this to Vine and it does not look like Dianna is enjoying herself:

Note:  It kind of looks like DIanna has her arm around Taylor’s waist and also the person to the right of Taylor is Selby Drummond who is still friends with DIanna as of writing of this masterpost (December 2020) and who still appears to be a fan of Taylor’s.

Dianna does look miserable but I do think it’s interesting they seem to be making an effort to hang out on the two year anniversary of their public (perhaps private as well) first meeting.

Dianna tweets about the concert the next day:

September 6, 2013 - Taylor plays Speak Now as the surprise song on the Red tour.  Interesting given the timing of Dianna and her new boyfriend being public just one week before this.

September 8, 2013 - Taylor plays Sad, Beautiful Tragic for the first time ever live and gives this speech:

"I kind of feel like playing a song I've never ever played live before. This is um a song that I wrote about how you know just because something's over doesn't mean it wasn't incredibly beautiful. Cause another lesson I've learned is not all stories have a happy ending and you have to learn how to deal with that. So this is a song about a story that didn't end so happily but was still supposed to happen. This is called Sad, Beautiful, Tragic."

I don’t think this song was originally written about Dianna but I do think at this time while they stumble through the last phase of their relationship Taylor was inspired to sing it.

October 2013 - Taylor writes I Wish You Would, a song inspired by an ex who had recently bought a house near her driving past her house.  It’s thought to be about Harry but Harry didn’t buy a house in LA until March 2014.  But of course we know Dianna did buy a house near Taylor’s in LA earlier this fall.

November 11, 2013 - The music video for “She’s Just Another Girl” premiers starring Dianna looking stunning in high fashion drag, dressed up as the lead singer, and lip syncing the words to the song:

Some lyrics to the song include:

All of my friends say I should move on She's just another girl, don't let her stick it to your heart so hard And all of my friends say it wasn't meant to be And it's a great big world, she's just another girl

I could be reeling them in left and right Something's got a hold on me, tonight Well maybe all of my friends should confront The fact that I don't want another girl

I think it’s at least possible that Dianna was drawn to this project because the lyrics resonated to her given what she was going through with Taylor at the time.

November 12, 2013 - Day of Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show rehearsals and Dianna posts this (now deleted) picture:

November 13, 2013 - Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show where Taylor performs and Karlie Kloss walks the runway.

Dianna posts this picture (now deleted) of her at Emma Stone’s birthday party from 11 months previous:

It’s likely she’s looking at Taylor in this photo who was seated across from her.

It’s a very random picture to post.  It wasn’t titled as a throwback and it wasn’t an exact year after the picture was taken (prompting some kind of happy birthday shout out to Emma Stone or anything) - just a random picture of Dianna smiling, likely at Taylor. 

November 17, 2013 - Dianna posts a (now deleted) photo about missing someone:

November 21, 2013 - Taylor posts lyrics from a hopeful love song about a troubled relationship:

Lyrics:

December 9, 2013 - Dianna listens to Pale Blue Eyes

Lyrics are about being emo over a lost love with Blue Eyes:

Sometimes I feel so happy Sometimes I feel so sad Sometimes I feel so happy But mostly you just make me mad Baby, you just make me madLinger on your pale blue eyes Linger on your pale blue eyes

Thought of you as my mountaintop Thought of you as my peak Thought of you as everything I've had, but couldn't keep I've had, but couldn't keep

Linger on your pale blue eyes Linger on your pale blue eyes

If I could make the world as pure And strange as what I see I'd put you in the mirror I put in front of me I put in front of meLinger on your pale blue eyes Linger on your pale blue eyes

Skip a life completely Stuff it in a cup She said, "Money is like us in time It lies, but can't stand up" Down for you is upLinger on your pale blue eyes Linger on your pale blue eyesIt was good what we did yesterday And I'd do it once again The fact that you are married Only proves you're my best friend But it's truly, truly a sinLinger on your pale blue eyes Linger on your pale blue eyes

December 11, 2013 - You know the drill...Dianna posts a now deleted photo to Instagram:

December 13, 2013 - Dianna posts an attention grabbing photo on Taylor’s Birthday

Conclusions - Swiftgron very clearly goes through a rough breakup due to being outed. 

Then they attempt some sort of reconciliation - even hanging out (date night?) on the second anniversary of their Fairfax Flea Market meetcute, but it goes wrong.  

Taylor is on tour for much of this time and Dianna is posting angst ridden and peculiar Instagram posts exactly at the time Taylor meets Karlie.

Click here to keep reading!

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

2, 5, 11, 15, 16, 18 aaand 31 for the story teller asks.

Gotta stop here before i send all of them xD

Oh man! :D Thank you so much! I'm very excited to answer these! :D 2. Describe your story in three words or less Chaotic.... but loving. Not that the story is written chaotically, cause I don't think it is, but I think from an outsiders perspective, specially considering I sorta started sharing the story publicly almost 300 chapters in, I'm sure it at times can seem rather chaotic? Or maybe I'm the chaotic one? 5. How do you choose your characters’ names? Hm... it's many different ways really. For the most part I recall a name I really like for whatever reason, or see a name somewhere in the passing, like a tv show or an online article? Sometimes I use Google, let's say I want a very "bohemian" type of name... I'd Google that, cause I know shit nothing about that. And for the McKinney's I Google a fair bit. They all have Irish/Scottish names (well 99% of them do) and since I'm not Irish/Scottish, and I don't want everyone to end up with the most mainstream names, well, Google is my friend. Also specifically for the McKinney's, their names are chosen because of their meaning. Raven's birth name is Brandubh, which essentially can be translated to little black raven. Ronan, his brother, means seal, and he is actually a key that can seal the doors of hell. Eonan is knight... he was a knight of hell. Aedan (Andy and Raven's son) is born of fire, Andy has a power to control/create fire, that not many knows about. The McKinney brother's fathers name is Alroy, which means red haired (cause he simply has red hair, *snort*) And I could keep going. But I'm sure I would bore everyone to death. Anyway, point is, all McKinney's have a name that has something to do with either their powers or their appearance. 11. Why have you decided to tell this story? are there any messages or meanings within it? First it never meant to be a story for anyone but myself. It started as an RP. But when the RP ended, I had all these characters with elaborate personalities, living and breathing inside me. It felt empty to just drop them there. So I continued writing the story for myself. It was never meant at first to continue for years, I actually continued with the thought that I'd maybe write 5-10 chapters or so, and simply writing an ending of the story. Yeah, that was at least 275+ chapters ago. The story fast became a way for me to live a life I had to at the same time face I could never live out in real life. So I suppose my decision to keep writing, was a way for me to pull through a lot of things, I'm not sure I otherwise would have been able to pull through. There are a lot of "hidden" messages and meanings in the story, but I wont sit here and spoil them all, it's up to the readers (now that the story is actually being posted... here <- to interpret it for themselves.) However, I'm always up for answering questions about it. What I can give you is the message of loving people for who they are, not what you want them to be. To love yourself, even if you aren't the version of you you wanted to be, you can still be a pretty rad person. A message that we can overcome much more than we believe, as long as we keep fighting. And last but not least, a message of never giving up, and following your dreams. And to never give up on love. But above all, the message is simply love. I chose to write a story that heavily weighs on love, simply for the fact that I more than ever, believe what we need most on this planet, is love. And lots more of it. A lot of our issues could be solved by simply loving each other more, and loving the planet we live on, before there's nothing left to love. It sounds cliche maybe, but it's my opinion, and you don't have to agree. 15. What have been the highlights of creating your story? Definitely getting to know everyone, watching their characters unfold and grow. It has kept me to my writing. Back in school, my Danish teacher told me to never give up on writing, cause in her words, I'm good at it. She told me to 'always write, whether I would be bubbly happy or breakingly sad, write

write write'. For many years after I finished school, I barely wrote at all, so I was insanely rusty when I picked writing back up. My story helped me with that, and I found my way back to writing. Another highlight is definitely all the hard times my story has gotten me through. Doesn't mean I am smooth sailing my way through life, but it keeps me from drowning completely, and that's something. I still need to make some major life changes, but till that's possible, I'm holding onto my story, and it keeps me above water. 16. What about the process do you enjoy? *Snort* I think if people has followed this blog more than a month, it's already clear I enjoy creating characters, and as a result post some of the most lengthy bio's on Tumblr. But I enjoy just as much to see the scenes unfold in front of me as I write, feeling the emotions of the characters, often so intensely that it affects my own mood. There's just something in it, that makes me feel like I'm a part of the story, like I'm literally in there. And that's enjoyable to escape into for a time. 18. Choose a song that reminds you of your story A? A song? Like in one? ONE song for a circa 300 chapters story??? How??? How do I cram such an elaborate and still growing story into ONE song??????? Ghost-boi.... pls.... I'll have to get back to you on that *goes into full on panic mode searching through albums in my head* 31. Drop some random trivia about your story Pffft.... First chapter that actually made it into the story (cause there were a couple loose ones before that, that never made it) was actually written under different names, as I was considering sharing it online, but didn't want to annoy my previous RP partner, so I changed everyone's names. Andy was Alexander. Congo was Connor. Evan was Ethan. And there you also have the original poly relationship, that ended up in so much more. Well.... at the very beginning of the story, Evan and Congo still wasn't dating, but it didn't take many chapters. Adrian was originally made as an attempt to create something different, look-wise. To get out of my comfort zone and play with new features. While making him, I sat there looking at his face thinking 'this is me'. I simply connected not only with his looks, but also the character I started seeing growing in front of me, so writing his bio was probably one of the easiest ever to write, and he was very easy to adapt as a main character in my story. He just swept his way in there like a cool breeze on a way too hot summers day and the main cast was like... keh... cool... So he actually sorta became the main focal point of the part of my story I am sharing on my story blog, where Andy is the main focal point of the main story. Akin, the Alpha wolf, was originally supposed to never be a fully developed character. He was "just" a doctor that popped by here and there, but the two readers of my story back then, liked him a lot, and started expressing seeing potential in him. So I started developing him. As I expressed how he looked (he was originally extremely tall and a bit like a rugby player) they strongly disagreed and told me he was definitely slender and with semi-long dreads XD And that made Akin look more or less like he does today <- About that song though... if I have to choose just one song for such a BIG story, I'd have to simply choose a love song. But not a sugary sweet one. A haunting, emotional, longing, breathtaking, yet deep, passionate and warm song. I'd go with <- Witch is also a song from the movie Romeo + Juliet, by amazing Baz Luhrman. So basically a story about teenage suicide. In that aspect it doesn't fit at all. But it was the first song that came to my mind.... Sooooo.... I'll quietly leave this as well, on the way out <- (which is probably a much better fit anyway, both regarding lyrics and music video) 

[bunnimew]

Not the Junk Yard!

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, Jamie/Cupcake Tags: Modern AU, Ghost AU, Jack and Pitch are ghostie boyz, Is it major character death if they start out dead and don't die harder during the fic?, Cupcake is only in one scene Rating: Teen Words: 2,954 Summary: Jamie stiffly looked forward and pointedly ignored Jack, even when his phone started playing Candy Crush on its own.

He would be fine.

His car was haunted.

He would be fine.

Or Jack and Pitch are obnoxious ghosts with nothing else to do but terrorize Jamie.

For @rotg-hope-week 2021 Prompt: Free Day! On AO3 here!

“Get off our ass, dickwad!”

“Use your turn signal, asshole!”

“Hey Idiot! That’s not how you make a U-turn!”

This was Jamie’s life now.

If he turned his head, he wouldn’t see them. Sometimes he forgot, when he opened the door and climbed inside, that just because his backseat looked empty didn’t mean it actually was.

If Jamie looked up into the rear-view mirror, they would be there.

Jack and Pitch, they told him the first week he owned this car. They had passed in a horrible accident and their spirits got stuck here. Jamie never asked if this was the car they died in, because he didn’t really want to know that.

He asked a million other questions though. He couldn’t help it! Ghosts! Real ghosts! In his car!

It was an absolute, utter, horrible, terrible pain in the ass.

But Jamie would have been so jealous if this car belonged to anyone else.

-o-

“I think it’s a day for fucking with the radio,” Jack nodded sagely. He turned his head to Pitch. “What’re you feeling?”

Pitch straightened his back and adopted a posture of confidence and poise. “I’m thinking Queen.”

“Solid choice,” Jack approved. He gestured grandly at the front of the car. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Pitch nodded once. “I would.” It took barely two seconds of static for the catchy pop song topping the charts this week to transform into Freddie crying, ‘Bicycle! Bicycle!’ and Jamie didn’t even glance over. He already knew.

His head connected with the steering wheel. “So it’s gonna be a day like that, huh?”

Jack shrugged and waved flat hands at the front seat. “I don’t know what his problem is. This song is amazing.”

“It might be that I played it last week, too,” Pitch suggested. Then grinned. “Or the inevitable hours of repeat he’s anticipating.”

“I still count that as a blessing,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Few things are more angelic than Freddie Mercury’s voice.”

Pitch took Jack’s hand and lifted the knuckles to his lips. “I could not have died and had my soul entangled to a better man.”

Jack rotated their hands and returned the sentiment with a smile. “Nor I, Pitch my love,” he dramatically declared. “Nor I!”

-o-

“In two-hundred feet, turn right on–”

“Why’s it telling you to turn here?” Jack asked. Jamie only knew he was poking Jamie’s phone because suddenly Google didn’t know which way was up and had backed all the way out of Navigation and was trying to find him fast food to eat.

“Damn it, Jack! Stop touching it!” Jamie flapped one hand at his phone, occasionally passing through what felt like weirdly cold pockets of air. He had to re-search his destination and re-enter navigation and pray he was turning right where he was supposed to, all at the same time. “You’re gonna break it! Or drain the battery, whichever comes first.”

“It’s faster to go straight and turn on 182nd. Trust me, we used to go this way all the time.”

“I kind of trust you,” Jamie tentatively said. It wasn’t a lie, if there wasn’t any GPS, Jamie would totally follow Jack’s instructions. But there was GPS, and it was telling him to turn here. “But there might be traffic or something that isn’t usually on that road, so it wants me to go around.”

“But it’s telling you to take Harding. Harding is way slower than Orange. You should turn around and go back.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “If I turn around, I lose the, like, one minute advantage of taking this route.”

“One minute? You’re taking a slower route to save one minute?”

“It’s one minute faster!”

“It’s slower!”

“That’s literally not how that works, Jack!”

Pitch’s chuckle, borderline giggle, cut through Jamie’s screeching. “You may want to keep better control of yourself. You’re looking a bit…”

Jamie turned his head, dread and embarrassment taking hold even before he saw the man one lane over staring back at him in alarm. The man looked away quickly and started talking to the driver, but it was too late. Jamie knew they knew that he was talking to himself. It was every driver’s worst nightmare. That someone else on the road would notice what they were doing.

Jamie stiffly looked forward again and pointedly ignored Jack, even when his phone started playing Candy Crush on its own. He… mostly knew the route.

He would be fine.

His car was haunted.

He would be fine.

-o-

“Pitch?”

“Yes, Jack?”

Jack tapped his foot against the door of the car, legs propped in Pitch’s lap. He was staring at the ceiling, noting the wear in the roof lining around the dome light. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck in this car?”

Pitch shook his head. He was resting a hand on Jack’s shin, fingers pleasantly scratching back and forth. Jack was happy that being dead didn’t mean he couldn’t feel anything. “I couldn’t say. I’ve never been dead before. We could be here forever. We could move on tomorrow.”

Jack bit his lip and shifted in the seat so he sank further down, nearly lying on his back now. “What if we are stuck forever? This car’s not going to last forever. Where will we go?”

Pitch’s fingers pressed a little harder into his skin. “Wherever this broken down car goes, I suppose. A landfill? A junk yard?”

Jack closed his eyes and whined. “I don’t wanna go to a junk yard.”

Pitch rubbed soothingly into Jack’s leg. “Isn’t the whole point of this line of questioning that we may not have a choice?”

Jack covered his face with his hands. “That just means I’m gonna whine harder, Pitch.”

“Of course you are.”

“It’ll be so boring. And so lonely. We can’t, Pitch!”

Pitch sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to Jack’s thigh, just above his knee. “At least we’ll be together?”

Jack pressed his hands up into his hair so that he could look at Pitch through the frame of his wrists. That was something. He wouldn’t be completely alone, but still.

“I love you, Pitch. And I’m glad that if I’m stuck forever with someone, it’s with you. But.”

Pitch folded his hands over Jack’s knees. Of course there was a but. “But?”

“But we absolutely can not go to the junk yard!”

-o-

“This is highly rude, I just want you to know.”

Jamie knew, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. There was nowhere else in the car his new, new to him anyway, tv would fit. The screen was just too big. It had to go in the back seat. Besides, what was Jamie supposed to do if he wanted to give his friends a ride sometime? Make them crawl in the trunk instead of use the perfectly functioning back seat?

Jack and Pitch were being pretty hilarious about it though. They were honestly trying not to touch it, pressed to opposite doors and barely in their seats. Pitch was practically folded against the wall and ceiling of the car, like the tv might burn him or something.

Or maybe he might burn the tv?

Suddenly it was a lot less funny.

“I’m sorry, just don’t break it, please? It was a really good deal and I definitely can’t afford another one,” he pleaded into the rearview.

Jack looked a little panicked himself. “No promises, but it won’t be on purpose.”

That was super not reassuring at all. Jamie pressed the pedal a little harder. Now he kind of felt bad about them trying not to be in the tv. “Can’t you guys, like… sit in the front seat, maybe?”

The ghosts looked at each other, which Jamie had to shift in the seat to see because they were so far apart. Pitch looked back at Jamie. “Maybe?”

Jack, on the passenger side, was gazing deep into the upholstery like a puzzle he was struggling to solve. “We’ve had pretty free rein of the car, right? We just…” Jack’s face contorted into something like concern or discomfort. Jamie got the feeling he didn’t want to say why they hadn’t tried it, yet.

“You don’t have to!” he was quick to say. “I just thought it might be more comfortable.” And also less dangerous for the tv.

Jamie had to take his eyes off of the rearview for a while. He was driving after all, and he could check in on them but he couldn’t watch them the whole time. He heard Pitch saying, “It can’t actually hurt, right?”

“I mean, we’re already dead,” Jack replied.

Which didn’t mean a whole lot. Sure, physical pain wasn’t a consideration, but their souls were still their souls and… Jamie should really do some research on ghosts. He was shocked out of his thoughts by a sudden metaphorical bucket of ice water spilling over his back and into his very being. He nearly slammed on the brakes, but caught it just in time. Getting rear-ended right now would suck for many, many reasons.

“Oh my God, Pitch! You have to warn me when you do that!”

“I did!” Pitch was no longer in the back seat, so Jamie couldn’t see his expression. “It’s not my fault you were too distracted to hear me.”

That was fair.

“Where’s Jack?”

He heard a cough.

“With Pitch.”

Jamie smiled and actually tried looking over at his passenger seat. It was empty, of course. That was a little sad. He knew they were ghosts, but it would be cool to talk to them face to face some day. “So it worked? And you fit?”

There was a snort. Probably from Pitch. “Sort of.”

Jamie… had to shrug it off, because it probably wasn’t anything important and he had to pay attention to the road. If it was working, sort of, that would be good enough for now.

“Sorry about the back seat.”

“It’s fine,” Pitch said, and the tone of his voice said it really was. “We understand this is your car, even if we’re eternally stuck in it.”

Jamie smiled again, but didn’t try to look at them. “Honestly. I’d like this car a lot less if you weren’t stuck in it, so.”

“Aww,” Jack cooed, “I knew you liked us!”

Jamie was almost home. “I could do without the songs on repeat, but… my car is haunted! That makes it the coolest car I could have!”

“Oh, I see, so it’s not about us,” Pitch said.

Jamie pulled into his drive and put the car in park, so he was safe to look over and pretend he could see them. “Of course it’s about you. It wouldn’t be haunted without you.”

“Any ol’ ghosts could be haunting this car, Jamie.”

The pretending was getting to him, so Jamie pressed the buttons on his door to turn the passenger mirror so far in that Jamie could see Pitch and Jack reflected in it. The angle wasn’t great, because it was only one side of them, but it was something.

And it was something.

Jack was sitting sideways in Pitch’s lap, his shoulder pressed to Pitch’s chest and his head resting on Pitch’s shoulder. This meant Jamie could only see the back of his head, but that really didn’t matter, did it? Pitch’s arms were around Jack, and his head was propped against Jack’s. As he watched, Pitch’s eyes caught Jamie’s in the mirror. They were precious.

Jamie’s smile felt like it was splitting his face in two.

“Then I’m glad it’s you.”

Pitch smiled.

-o-

It was already awkward, trying to do this across the front seats. Jamie couldn’t really help that though, because if he’d tried to sit in the back with Cupcake, he would have been thinking about Pitch and Jack dodging them the whole time, the way Pitch and Jack sit and lay and stretch in that seat, the way Jamie feels cold every time he reaches back there.

He shouldn’t have bothered. The way he was leaning to reach her lips was a little bit painful and a lotta bit hard to hold, but then there was Jack, talking in his ear, “Is this your girlfriend? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” So Jamie was thinking about them anyway, and all of his efforts were for naught.

“I kinda thought you might be gay.”

Jamie’s eyes snapped open to glare at the backseat. Jack wanted to talk about this now? Really?

“I’m just saying. I guess my gaydar is as dead as I am.”

Jamie wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry. And then he realized Cupcake wasn’t reacting to Jack at all. Couldn’t she hear him?

“Nope.” His expression must have given away his thoughts. “Only you can hear us. You know, just to make this as awkward as possible for you.”

Jamie definitely wanted to cry now. So he closed his eyes and chose to focus on Cupcake, who did not make him want to cry. She sure made him want a lot of other things, though.

“So…” Oh God, he really wasn’t going to stop, was he? “Should we make out too, or…?”

Jamie fought down a groan and pulled away from Cupcake to the sound of Pitch’s laughter. She wouldn’t understand why he was frustrated (And wasn’t that frustrating?), so he tried to act completely normal when he asked, “Think you might be able to sneak into my room?”

The devilish look she gave him turned Jamie’s mood right around.

-o-

“Aww, man…”

Jamie knew it would happen eventually. No car stayed in working condition forever. Something was bound to break, and it wasn’t like Jamie bought this car new or anything.

“What? What is it?” Jack’s voice was alert and panicked. Jamie felt a chill in his right shoulder that told him Jack was leaning forward between the seats.

“The engine’s overheating,” Jamie said. “I’ll have to pull over and, I dunno, try to figure out what’s causing it.”

“We’re breaking down?!”

Jack’s voice was so close that Jamie instinctively leaned away. “Uh, I guess? I hope not. I hope it’s just something easy, like… like the radiator needs coolant or something.”

“I’ll fix it!”

“Wait! No!” Jamie cried. Although he didn’t know what he was objecting to. And also it wasn’t like he could stop Jack. And also he had no idea if Jack actually could help or not, so there was… all of that. “What? Jack! Pitch!” Jamie turned in his seat, stupidly forgetting that wouldn’t help, then turned to the rearview. “What is he doing?”

Pitch looked alarmed and that did not calm Jamie down one bit. “He dove into the engine. I know nothing more than that.”

“I’ll cool it down!”

“How?! Jamie demanded. He was officially looking for any shoulder at all to pull off on. Unfortunately, this road had a curb. Stupid curbs. “How are you going to cool it down?”

“I am literally a cold spot. That has got to be useful for something.”

If Jamie weren’t so panicked about pulling over, he might have marvelled at Jack’s quick thinking. As it stood, he barely thought ‘Fair’ before he was working on the next problem.

“But you don’t even know what’s causing it! That’s not fixing, that’s duct tape! What’re you gonna do? Hang out in the engine every time I drive from now on?” Not to mention, a disembodied voice talking to him from the wrong side of his dashboard was disconcerting as hell. Odd that the disembodied voice talking to him from the backseat was no longer all that weird.

Before Jack could reply, Jamie felt another cold brush pass through his right arm and Pitch’s voice on the move. “I’ll go… see if a fan isn’t turning. Or if a hose is leaking.”

That was legitimately reassuring and Jamie felt adrift in the wake of his panic. Now what?

Right. Jamie pulled into the first parking lot he saw and stopped the car as far away from other humans as he reasonably could. The temperature gauge actually had stayed steady after Jack… yeeted himself into the engine block.

Jamie didn’t turn off the car just yet, in case leaving it on helped Pitch diagnose it. “Do you see anything?”

“The fans are turning, so it’s not that. This could be a leak, though. Might as well try the coolant.”

“So turn the car off?” Jamie asked.

“Turn the car off,” Pitch confirmed.

As the engine quieted down, Jack’s voice filtered through the dash. “So it’s fixable? We’re not going to the junk yard?”

Jamie snorted. “I was more thinking we’d go to the mechanic.”

“We’re not going to the junk yard,” Pitch confirmed again.

“Why are you guys talking about a junk yard?”

Suddenly half of Jamie was swathed in ice and when he looked up, Jack’s determined face took up more than half of the rearview mirror. “I will fix this car with sheer spite and will power if that’s what it takes to keep us out of the junk yard.”

Oh. Jamie didn’t really know what to say. Jamie’s panic over mechanic bills and inconvenience sure seemed inconsequential next to Jack and Pitch’s eternal damnation to a trash pile. Put like that...

“You guys can be a real pain in my ass sometimes, but…” Jamie shook his head and laughed disbelievingly. Repeat music, broken electronics, no making out in his own car, all sucked pretty hard, but moments like this made him realize. Jamie would also do damn near anything to keep them out of the junk yard. “I really hope I get to drive this car forever.”

[sheerfreesia007]

Coulda Been

Title: Coulda Been

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 1,437

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, Mutual Pining Idiots (my specialty)

Teen Wolf Tag List: @linkpk88​, @pure-ghost​

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Author Notes: Inspired purely by the gif. I’m stuck on the Stiles train for the moment. And I love mutual pining. It makes me soft inside. Feedback always welcome!

Gif Credit: Google

         “You know that this was a stupid idea right?” Stiles says out of the side of his mouth as he leans back against the bar next to Scott.

         “She needs to let loose after that horrible break up Nick put her through.” Scott responded back as his eyes flicked over to you as you danced on the dancefloor.

         “But Scott, she’s going to find another boyfriend tonight. I can feel it.” Stiles complained softly as he looked over to Scott with a deep frown.

         “Not unless you do something about it.” Scott suggests with a quirked eyebrow to his best friend.

         “And what am I supposed to do about it? She doesn’t see me that way.” Stiles gripped as he looked over at you as you twirled and shimmied your body to the beat. He smiled softly as he saw how relaxed and happy you looked as you danced.

         “Go dance with her. Tell her how you feel about her.” Scott suggests and Stiles’ face twists into an incredulous look at his friend.

         “Go tell her how I feel? Dude, do you understand how bad that could turn out?” Stiles asks with a frown.

         “Or, it could turn out really great and the two of you could wind up together.” Scott says trying to calm his best friend.

         “She’s so out of my league it’s unbelievable.” Stiles quips out quickly as he looks down at the coke in his hands.

         “Who’s out of your league?” comes your excitable voice and Stiles’ head snaps up to see you’re standing in front of him grinning as you pant for breath. You’re dressed in a pretty flowy dark blue dress that reaches your knees and Stiles blushes softly as his rake over your body.

         “No-noone.” Stiles stumbles over his words and Scott snorts next to him making Stiles throw him a harsh glare.

         “No sad conversations Stiles you know the rules!” you called out as bop his nose with your finger. Stiles makes a move as if he’s gonna bite your retreating finger and you laugh brightly along with Scott. You push in between the two boys to lean up against the bar, Scott and Stiles move automatically so that you’re comfortable between the two of them as you try to flag down the bar tender for  soda. They both turn so that they’re also leaning on the bar with you.

         “Are you feeling better?” Scott asks you and you nod your head grinning. You lean your head against Scott’s shoulder and sigh softly.

         “I’ve got my two best guys here making sure I’m alright so I can let off a little steam. What could make tonight better?” you say happily as you place a hand on Stiles’ forearm and smile warmly over at him. He nods his head and grimaces softly before smiling at you. You frown softly and move to press yourself against his side. “What’s wrong?” you ask close to his ear and he jerks his head back away from you.

         “Nothing’s wrong.” he answers quickly and you scowl at him.

         “Mieczyslaw Stilinski, what’s wrong?” you say sternly and Scott laughs from next to you as Stiles groans lowly.

         “Are you really full naming me?” Stiles asks with another groan. You nod your head to him as you stare into his eyes.

         “I am, it’s the only way to get a straight answer from you.” you respond as you continue to stare at him. You don’t even notice wiggling his eyebrows at Stiles from over your shoulder. Stiles rolls his eyes and sighs softly.

         “I-I’m just not a club person.” Stiles lamely responds and watches as your face falls slightly and he’s quickly trying to ease you. “But I know how much you needed this so I’ve got no problem being here.”

         “Oh.” you say softly and turn to your drink silently as you begin to sip it. Scott shoots him a pointed look and Stiles shakes his head at him. You’re quiet now between the two of them and they can feel your mood dropping. Stiles feels badly for making you feel bad but he couldn’t tell you the real reason he wasn’t happy. You didn’t feel the same way about as he did you and he wasn’t willing to give up your friendship just to confess his feelings to you. He leans over to you and gets close to your ear to whisper into it.

         “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be a mood killer.” he whispers into your ear and feels you shiver against him. You shake your head and turn to smile brightly at him but he can tell that’s not genuine.

         “You aren’t being one.” you answer easily trying to reassure him and Stiles stares at you stunned. The whole reason for the three of you being in this club is so that you blow off some steam because you had a piece of shit ex-boyfriend but here you are trying to reassure him after he made you feel bad. He loves you, god does he love you and suddenly he feels the urge to tell you how much he loves you. Damn the friendship, the feelings bubbling up inside of him are growing to be too much. You’re both so close that if he leans forward just a fraction his lips will be pressing against yours. He can finally feel what it’s like to kiss your soft lips.

         “I need to tell you something.” he whispers into your ear and you stop moving instantly. Your head turns to look at him and he can see your eyes searching his own. “It’s gonna change a lot for us but I suddenly feel like-” he begins to say before he’s pulling away and shaking out his hands nervously. Your hands come up to grab his own and he looks over at you desperately. The smiles you’re sporting is kind and reassuring and soft, so soft that Stiles feels like he’s falling into it.

         “Tell me anyway.” you say to him loud enough that he can hear it. You’re turned to face him and he does the same as you’re still holding his hands in your own. He looks down at your hands before looking back up at you.

         “I’m in love with you. Been since middle school.” he says to you and watches as your eyes widen slightly before a bright happy smile slips across your lips and you grip his hands tighter. You tilt your head slightly at him and furrow your eyebrows adorably in confusion.

         “What about Lydia?” you ask suddenly and Stiles scoffs softly.

         “She was the first girl I saw when I was trying to tell Scott who I had a crush on when you walked up to us. I couldn’t blurt out your name with you right there.” Stiles tells you and pulls an incredulous face that makes you grin. Stiles watches as Scott presses closer to your back and you smile over your shoulder at him.

         “You coulda told me Scotty.” you chastise your best friend and Stiles frowns softly.

        ��“He’d kill me if he ever found out I told you.” Scott responds and you shake your head at him.

         “What are you two talking about?” Stiles questions as his eyes dance between you and Scott.

         “I told Scott the week before that that I was in love with you, you idiot.” you respond fondly at Stiles. Stiles’ head whips over to glare at Scott who holds his hands up in surrender.

         “She made me promise not to tell you too. Don’t look at me, I tried to drop as many hints as I could to the both of you.” Scott said in defense as he laughed softly. Stiles looks back down at you and sees you smiling softly at him.

         “And what about Nick?” he asks you with a head nod.

         “A distraction to try and get over you since I thought you didn’t like me back.” you said regrettably.

         “You mean to tell me that we could’ve been dating since middle school?” Stiles asked suddenly and both you and Scott laughed loudly nodding your heads. “Well fuck, we’ve got a lot of time to catch up on.” he says out loud and your eyes widen as he tugs you into his chest and he leans down towards you. “This is okay right?” he asks quickly before his lips press to yours.

         “More than okay Stilinski.” you respond and with that Stiles presses his lips to yours heatedly. Scott chuckles softly from behind you and Stiles flips him the bird as he continues to kiss you.

[prorevenge]

A stranger scammed me out of $300 online. I tracked him down, called his dad's work phone, and got my money back.

Long post, TL;DR below. Early last year I was deep in depression, spending the Spring in my room (I work in a seasonal industry which pays just enough to live on during the off months.)

All I did was play video games all day which led to me getting into game marketplace sites and planning on starting a side hustle selling in game items and accounts in MMos. I was brand new to the "industry" and didn't have contacts to learn from, so I just went for it and posted my first listing. I got a few hits back early and found an interested "buyer" (I'll refer to him later as C) who told me he was ready to purchase.

The way these transactions are supposed to go is this: A reputable middleman (There were several known MM in the community that I joined) takes in the product and the payment, verifies both, then distributes both ways after taking a cut for their services. This circumvents the "you first" prolem where you have to trust solely in the other guy to not scam you. -Well.. They impersonated a middleman well enough to fool me. I admit that it was 100% on me, I didn't know what I was doing. I just wanted to start selling so bad and I was glad to see quick hits on my first listing.

So, the "middleman" (To this day I don't know if there was a 3rd person acting as middleman or if it was C all along) takes the buyer's money, then the product which was a high ranked account in a popular competitve game. Suddenly, the MM says there was a problem with the payment and it needs to be redone.

At this point I know game's over and I just got scammed, but I went along with it as a sad parting gift to my first "sale." I message C and asked him how this was going to go. He told me he'll just direct paypal me the $300 now and apologized, which didn't make sense to me (you already scammed me, why haven't you blocked me yet?) I gave him my paypal email.

Conversation goes like this: C- "Sent." Me- "repeats my email same email correct?" C- "F%@& I sent it to the wrong email. I'll call paypal." Me- 3 minutes later "Are you going to send me $300 or no?" C- "I only had $450 in my paypal account, they should be able to refund me over the phone." Me- 5 minutes later "Okay. Progress?" C- "On the phone with them." Me 10 minutes of silence later- ":D" Then he goes offline. I call the MM several times but he's standoffish and won't pick up saying "something something privacy.. you arent giving me a reason to pick up the call." It's clear he's not being real with me.

I don't know what to do at this point as I've never encountered a sudden loss of hard work like that. I'm not a drinker at all but that night when faced with that emptiness while trying to get out of depression, I hit the bottle hard.

The next day I woke up naked on my bathroom floor in the pitch black and sheepishly checked my PC to see if it really happened. Without any hope at all I started googling this kid's two usernames that I knew of. I scanned the internet for every site that had an account with the same username that he used, but only found more scam reports (yep, I wasn't his first victim.) So I gave up.

A week later I came back and did it all over again, but this time I thought to check his discord profile to see if he had any other profiles linked to it (steam, twitch, etc.) and the genius did. I checked his steam profile and wrote down each of his past usernames that looked unique and wouldn't pull a million results.

After hours of scanning each one, I had his name, age (teenager,) city, email, skype, knew he went to chess tournaments as a kid, liked neopets, and found a youtube channel with his class project videos on it. It still wasn't enough though. All the information got me was another two contact methods, and I didn't want to start harassing him.

He ghosted me and emailing him wasn't going to change that. If I was going to get my money back, I needed to contact his parents and I knew this all along. In a last ditch effort I googled his emails again, found his google+ profile, and saw that he had a public photo library (which was discontinued by google very shortly after all this happened.) It had 1 picture. A perfect view of his house, from the street. Street number in view. After some searching without finding much I clicked "More info" on the picture and the the geo-tagged coordinates attatched to the picture appeared.

So now I have the address which I google along with the last name, which leads to me getting the first & last names of both parents. I pop that into trusty whitepages and have everything I need to spring my plan into action. While all this was going on I was updating my friend who lives in the same area as C. He asked if I wanted him to call since he had the same area code. It lined up perfectly so I agreed.

At this point I realize it's March 30th, just two days before April fools and C could probably play this off as some elaborate joke played by his friends so I call my friend off. It was so hard to wait, but we did and we waited long enough that it couldn't be looked at as a joke at all.

Two weeks later in a discord call I give my friend the green light and he calls phone #1. The cell. After a little ringing it cuts to voicemail and we decide to try phone #2, the work phone. This time the phone rang for significantly longer but also cut to voicemail and the message before the beep confirmed we had the right dad. My friend leaves a message saying "Hello Mr. ______, this is _ ______ with (marketplace name's) collection department. We currently have multiple fradulent activity cases open with your son C, totalling x thousands of dollars (I added up all the reports against him which were posted on the site and it totalled thousands, even talked to a couple people who he targeted.) At the moment we're reviewing the most recent case which involved a $300 transaction. If you could please, get back to us between 9am-10pm to resolve these cases. Thank you" All that was paraprased but that was his message.

He was very professional and seemed legit, and even though the dad might listen to it and ignore it we didn't think that was going to happen. It's worth noting that they live in a nice area of a nice state, so there was less of a chance that this would be a financial burden and the parents would likely just want to clear this up.

Two days later, while playing video games (yeah I had a problem.) I get a contact request notification. MY BOY C!

He tells me that he's a good person and he wants to give the account back. I check it and he played 10 games and lost each one which deranked and devalued the account (at this point I pretty much knew his parents were standing over his shoulder watching everything that was said. I could've even been speaking to them directly.) So I told him the account devalued, and I either want what he stole from me (the account at a higher rank) or I want $300. He told me he'll give me the account AND $300 (Parents coming through in the clutch!)

We went through a lot of hoops, trying paypal which he couldn't get to work, a few others and finally got google pay to work after troubleshooting stupid problems which I attriubted to him stalling. It was clear that they were scared of me since I got their info (and regularly called him by his first name throughout the convo as a power move lol) but I assured them I wasn't a bad person and told them to be extra safe of what you upload, especially if you're trying to scam people because when money is involved bad things can happen (playing into his parents who were surely reading it.) I explained the public Google+ upload of their clear to see geo-tagged house which I'm sure his they weren't happy about.

After he sent the money he asked for confirmation that I received it. I confirmed saying "YOU F** DID IT! SO PROUD OF YOU, C!" and he immediately went offline. I danced up and down the hallway and it was probably embarrasingly bad but I didn't care. I don't think the smile was gone from my face for an hour. It was a month long process and with the help of my friend the money was back. I haven't seen my friend in person since then, but when I do I owe him a top notch steak. He refused when I sent him $ online.

Instead of trying to resell the account and start back up in the marketplace I abandoned it all and went another way. I'm currently training for the military and in a much better place, but still have a long way to go.

A lot was left out of this story but it was a long one. I have screenshots of our conversations and I surely won't ever forget it.

TL;DR - I tried selling a video game account to see if I could make a new side hustle and got scammed since I was dumb, inexperienced and decided to trust the internet. I got scammed and took it hard but the scammer left too much of his info public and after a little bit of elbow grease I was able to obtain his & his parent's info and left his dad a voicemail. Two days later the scammer contacted me and gave me the money and the account back, apologizing. I learned from it.

(source) story by (/u/dstrezzd)

[bandaged-writer]

a chance || dazai

➤ Pairing: Dazai x Reader

➤ Genre: fluff

➤ Warning: none

➤ Summary: To be held so closely and tightly by you, reminded him of the time you confessed to him one late afternoon. Now that Dazai thought about it, it was a lovely memory and wondered if it was okay for him to give in.

➤ Word count: 3.1k

➤ Note: This is my first time writing after nearly a year, but I hope you still enjoy it. Please, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request in my inbox. ^.^

The sound of hurried footsteps were successfully drowned out by the hustle lingering within the busy streets of Yokohama. People chattered away either on their phone for business purposes or with their peers, laughing at jokes, pouting and enjoying themselves underneath the glowing sun of spring. The smell of food filled your nostrils as you passed them in a hurry and for a moment you contemplated getting a piece of that delicious piece of strawberry cake the bakery had on display. After all, your morning stopped you from having the slightest bit of breakfast in your system.

That train of thought, however, was interrupted by your colleague, Kunikida, picking up the phone. “Where are you? You’re already five minutes late and I doubt you’ll finish the reports you have to finish at this rate.” You couldn’t helpt the slight roll of your eyes, yet you knew that Kunikida only meant well - or so you’d like to believe. “I’m sorry, Kunikida,” you started with a heavy sigh, stopped at a traffic light and waited for the lights to turn green. “My car wouldn’t start this morning and the traffic is too horrible to take the bus. The next train would’ve arrived late so now I’m walking to work.” 

To anyone else, it could sound like an excuse, but Kunikida never saw you arriving late without a plausible reason and even that case was extremely rare. Whenever he entered the office, you’d arrive at the Agency only a few minutes after him, a treat from the local bakery in your hands and a grin on your face. Truth be told, it had become a part of Kunikida’s schedule: “Greet [Name] at 08:05 am”. That’s how consistent your presence was.  “That’s unfortunate,” Kunikida spoke and glanced over at your supposedly empty desk which Dazai was occupying, mumbling something about finding your Google search history and using it for blackmail while Atsushi was quite literally dragging his superior away from your desk. Luckily, all the chairs possessed the ability to roll. ‘‘How much longer will you take?“

One hand stuffed into the pocket of your jacket, you hastily crossed the street once the traffic lights turned green and skillfully avoided bumping into people, only stopping once because someone’s dog was sniffing your leg with a wagging tail. You stroked the pet’s head affectionately and cooed at the creature that possessed such button-like eyes. At least there was one good thing about your morning now. “Hmm..Maybe about ten minutes? Could be less, could be a few minutes more,” you spoke into the phone, unsure of how long you’d actually take. If the streets continued to be so lively, then you’d definitely need longer than usual. Why couldn’t those people choose a different day to go outside and meet up with their friends and business partners? Ah, not like you had any control over such a thing.

‘‘Dazai-san! I’m sure you won’t find anything on [Name]‘s computer!“ Atsushi argued loudly enough for you to catch it over the phone. ‘‘Isn’t this what people your age call ‘finding tea‘?“ Dazai whined in response, pouted his lips and acted like he had gotten seriously betrayed by the Internet and its slang language.

‘Oh, Dazai is back?” You asked Kunikida before he could ask you to hurry up so he wouldn’t end up wringing the brown-haired man’s neck who was currently going on Kunikida’s nerves with his usual antics. A smile cracked your lips at the thought of a sense of normality returning to the Agency. Well, as normal as it could be. “Unfortunately, yes. Please try to arrive as early as possible.”

With those words being said, the call ended and the small smile fell from your lips faster than it had found home on your face. Everyone was still on high alert after Atsushi was abducted by Akutagawa and fought the Port Mafia’s rabid dog. Then there was Dazai purposely getting himself caught by the mafia just so he could find out who had placed the bounty on the young boy’s head. He was successful as always, but usually it was a death sentence once you were within the wall’s of the Port Mafia.

Of course, you believed in Dazai. His calculations were awfully accurate and somehow, everything played right into his bandaged hands. A man of such intellect would be terrifying to anyone else, but it only made you wonder how sharp Dazai really was, how deep his thoughts truly went. You’d probably never find out.

Despite Dazai’s plans always working out one way or another, you couldn’t help but worry about the suicidal idiot while everyone else brushed it off, saying he was either drifting along the river or chatting up some pretty lady. Only Atsushi and you had voiced out your concerns at the time.

You’d barely made it through the door and shrugged off your jacket when your hand was suddenly held by an awfull familiar, bandaged one and chocolate orbs sparkled brightly upon your apparently long-awaited arrival. “What a blessing you are for my sore eyes!” Dazai exclaimed dramatically and pulled off his daily, overdramatical act, lips pulled into an anticipating and hopeful smile that this time you’d say yes to a double suicide with him. “Ah, [Name]! You won’t believe how dull and grey the morning is when you’re not here and all I see is Kunikida’s unflattering face.” Somewhere in the back, you could hear Kunikida call out his partner’s name in an offended and warning tone of voice, probably about to pop a vein, too.

Normally, you would’ve laughed at their antics, but this time, a frown slowly spread across your face as you looked at Dazai, his hand delicately holding yours. Only one mistake in his planned abduction could’ve sentenced him to death by the hands of some mafioso. He wouldn’t be here, holding your hand and fooling around with Atsushi, annoying Kunikida and receiving more paperwork as a result. That idiot wouldn’t ask you for a double suicide every morning or steal bite after bite of your food until it, according to Dazai, magically disappeared. He would be gone, erased, deleted. This was the first time Dazai had been at the office ever since his visit at the mafia. “A wonderful face such as yours would look absolutely stunning in a lover’s-”

Dazai cut himself off as you refused to even crack the ghost of a smile at his attempt of openly flirting with you. Usually, you’d hear him out and end up laughing at his rather serious suggestion, but this time, there wasn’t even a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. Instead, he found a layer of sudden sadness clouding your gaze, but it wasn’t enough for tears to spill. “Is everything okay?”

You lowered your gaze to the ground, bangs casting a shadow over your eyes while you slowly let your hand slip from Dazai’s gentle grasp and raised it up high. Suddenly, you smacked him upside down on the head - maybe a bit harder than you intended to, but it was deserved either way. “You idiot!,” you exclaimed loudly enough to catch the attention of your colleagues who were more than puzzled that you were upset with Dazai of all people. After all, they were convinced that the two of you were connected by the hip or siblings separated at birth. 

“Ah, didn’t I tell you that I’m not as fond of pain as I am of your face, [Name]?” Dazai whined after his chin collided with your shoulder pretty hard. A pout found home on his lips as he was about to rub the sore spot you had hit so mercilessly and out of the blue, as well. “Shut up,” you said and rested one hand on his back, the other one cradled the back of Dazai’s head, getting tangled in his messy, brown locks. It probably looked funny given that Dazai was taller than you and maybe you’d laugh about that later. “I was worried sick about you,” the grasp you had on his trenchcoat tightened like he was about to disappear, slip from your embrace like water through the gaps of your fingers. 

Chocolate-like orbs widened as he understood what the hit was for and he silently admitted that it was indeed deserved. He’d told you nothing about his plan to extract information directly from the mafia instead of receiving it through a third person. Of course, Dazai knew you’d be upset with him once he’d return to the Agency, knew about the feelings you held for him.

Dazai could feel your heart thumping against his chest in relief and allowed himself to bask in the warmth you radiated. He didn’t necessarily return the hug, but ended up patting the top of your head and gently messing up your styled hair which had probably frustrated you like every morning. To be held so closely and tightly by you, reminded him of the time you confessed to him one late afternoon. Now that Dazai thought about it, it was a lovely memory and wondered if it was okay for him to give in.

The sun was beginning to set and dipped the office of the Agency into an orange hue, giving the usually lively space a tranquil and warm aura that would be welcomed by anyone walking in. But the office was empty safe for Dazai and you who was typing away on the laptop in front of you, sending off important emails and bringing certain documents into chronological order to make it easier for Kunikida to skim through them whenever it’d be needed.

Dazai had ended up with more paperwork than necessary since he insisted on annoying Kunikida all day while you just had a lot to do. A case had caused a lot of material damage throughout Yokohama and now it was your duty to get everything organized and ready to be paid off by the insurance that had saved the Agency from bankruptcy more than once. That was why the two of you were currently stuck in the office, working overtime, unpaid.

Usually, you’d chat with the man sitting opposite of you about anything that came to mind, but that afternoon, you were nervously biting your bottom lip, chewing the sensitive flesh until it was reddened. The glances you stole of him were fleeting but you’d always look away whenever Dazai was about to make eye contact. Your cheeks were dusted in a pink hue as well and truth be told, it looked cute and suited you in a way. However, Dazai wasn’t too fond of your sudden silence. He was about to break the silence, but you cut him to it and closed the laptop shut a bit louder than necessary - you flinched at the sudden, strong sound bouncing off the walls of the Agency.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” your voice was full of conviction yet it was shaking with the insecurity of a child, your fingers couldn’t properly hold still. Interested in what you had to say, Dazai rested his chin on his palm, brown eyes attentive to your every move yet they held a soft glimmer in them and conjured a smile on his lips. “Hm? What is it?”

You took a deep breath - once, twice. It felt like your heart was trying to pound its way out of your ribcage, your pulse raced and you could hear the blood ringing in your ears. But this was no time to chicken out. If you didn’t do it now, God knew when the next best chance would be offered to you on a silver platter like this. “This might sound silly, but I think I might be developing feelings towards you,” you confessed in one breath and for a moment it felt like a burden had been lifted off your shoulders. It felt good to come clean. “You don’t have to return those feelings at all. I just..really needed to get this off my chest and I don’t want it to change anything between us,” and it was true. You didn’t mind being just friends with the suicide enthusiast as long as he remained by your side in some way. But unsaid feelings can be one’s downfall, so you took the risk.

The expression on Dazai’s face didn’t change, but it wasn’t quite readable, either. There was a certain depth to it that you’d never reach the end of, no matter how deep you swam, no matter how deep you’d cut. “I was wondering when you’d notice,” Dazai pretty much deadpanned. He had taken notice of your lingering gaze, the more frequent blushing when he’d compliment you or the fact that you always brought food with you, although you knew he’d eat it instead. The confusion on your face at that moment was quite amusing, too. Dazai chuckled, “you’re pretty much an open book for me to read, [Name].”

Of course, he’d know before you’d even notice your own feelings, you thought to yourself and let a gentle chuckle slip past your lips. It was really futile to hide anything from that man. “Promise it won’t change anything between us?”

“Promise,” he smiled in a heartfelt way.

“Yes, we’re all very happy you two get along,” Kunikida cut the moment without mercy and dumped a load of paperwork on your desk that contained things like finances, complaints, cancelled cases as well as successful ones. “But work comes first.” The blonde adjusted his glasses on his nose and then crossed the point of giving you your work for the day out of his schedule. Next was getting the discounted eggs and several other goods. No way he was going to miss out on that. “Come on, don’t be so harsh on them, Kunikida,” Yosano said, sitting on the edge of Ranpo’s desk who had been watching the scene with snacks between his fingers. “You know how they are,” the doctor tried to reason with the idealist and possibly lessen your paperwork. Kunikida shook his head no - as was expected but one could always hope, right? “That’s no excuse to be slacking.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured your colleagues and got to your desk only to find your Google search history opened. So that bandaged bastard really did want to find dirt on you. Luckily, this wasn’t your personal laptop but the one you explicitly used for work. “It has to be done sooner or later, anyway. I’d rather have it off the desk now than tomorrow,” getting comfortable, you opened up Excel and began typing in the different losses as well as profits the Agency had made, giving several documents your signature and the likes. 

“And what was that about my face being unflattering, you bandage wasting machine?!”

“Ouch, words hurt, Kunikida-kun!”

True to your words, all the paperwork was off your desk, every single data was saved on your laptop and the documents were stored away safely in a folder. When you looked out of the window, you saw that the large crowds from this morning were beginning to clear out, the sun was about to set soon. Considering the time, you doubted that anyone else would enter the Agency, today. 

Atsushi was out on a job with Kenji, Kunikida was getting those discounted eggs, Ranpo had finished a murder case and most likely went home with Tanizaki’s help. Yosano had given you a hand with some of your work but left early.

You closed the Agency’s door when your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching you and sighed. “I’m sorry but we’re closed for today,” you spoke and locked the door properly, letting the key slide into the pocket of your jacket. But to your surprise, it was no possible client that wanted to give the Agency yet another case. “What? You can’t recognize me by the sound of my footsteps? I’m disappointed, [Name],” Dazai feigned hurt and put his hand right above his heart. The audacity you had to not recognize him after working together for so long! You couldn’t help the surprise adorning your face - Dazai never got back to his workplace unless he was dragged by Kunikida or it was a top priority. “Yeah, you must be incredibly hurt and will never get over it,” you laughed and cocked your hips to your side. “Now, what did you come back for?”

It was at that very moment that Dazai dropped the theatrical act that you had grown so fond of and replaced it what that damned tender face of his. You know, the face someone made when they could see their puppy grow up. “Let’s go on a date,” He spoke softly, not tripping over a syllable and remaining completely composed unlike you when you had confessed one or two months ago. Heat rose to your cheeks and suddenly, you grew oddly shy. Sure, Dazai was the epitome of a flirt and regularly asked women to commit a double suicide with him, but never quite asked them for a date with a look in his eyes that made the endless depths of them seem reachable. “Are you serious?” You double-checked, eyebrows raised in curiosity of his sincerity. Although you were pretty sure that Dazai wasn’t messing around in that moment, you feared that your ears might’ve played an ill trick on you. “As serious as a suicide enthusiast can be,” Dazai confirmed and offered for you to take his hand. Your eyes flickered from his hand and back to his face a few times, wondering what changed his mind about your feelings towards him and being a little bit cautious. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“You trust me, don’t you?” You hated it whenever he pulled the trust card. Both of you knew you could never say no to that particular question, because it’d be a lie. And Dazai had a nose for lies. Sighing, you put your hand in his and watched his face light up in a pleased way, red staining your cheeks and your heart rate gradually picking up the more you realized that Dazai was seriously taking you out. In a date way. 

As the two of you strolled throughout Yokohama’s streets and ended up in a small restaurant where Dazai made up for all the times he’d eaten your food by treating you to dinner, he’d realized that maybe this was one of the few right decisions he’d ever made.

A friend of him once told him he could never fill the empty hole in his heart. But maybe you could.