#apparently steam stopping the counting at some random number early on is happening to a lot of people

[greyias]

As a follow-up on Ari's never-ending musical tour, it appears Steam just decided to stop counting my progress at 17/100, and refuses to update it past that, because the morning after the romance scene, I decided to go ahead and try to hit up the Underdark (and the Blighted Village) that I had forgotten to serenade while in Act 1, and got so many gold pieces from people who she had not played for previously.

Unlike those plebs in Moonrise Towers, mushroom people are really into the lute.

As is this doomed wannabe kidnapper from the Society of Brilliance:

(don't worry why Astarion was hiding. I was trying to save her and her asshole friends' future asses by stealing back the owlbear egg I'd swindled her into taking, but even when Astarion succeeded and started to sneak away she was like "BITCH GIMME THAT BACK" so have fun dying jerk! But... at least she tips better than the Harpers)

Then headed back to the Blighted Village, which I somehow had missed completely while dragging my feet in Act 1, and performed for all the goblins. They enjoyed our traveling show, and had some, erm. Interesting suggestions.

I, uh, am sure it makes an interesting xylaphone-like sound. But I think I'll pass.

Confirmed: Ari's lute playing is more entertaining than watching ogre porn

Thanks I guess? Also we might be forever banned from the Emerald Grove for reasons, but don't worry about that. It's not important.

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Summary: Winry sat in the optimal place to study in the school cafe for the entire fall semester. Then spring came, and suddenly some self-entitled twit who dressed like off-brand Gerard Way decided it was his territory. He was so not going to get off easy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k words of coffee shop/college AU with a side of enemies to almost-lovers

A/N: It's finals week, I posted this on Ao3 at almost 5am, and if the rest of the sentence didn't make it obvious, I'm writing from unfortunate experience. Not beta-ed or proofread, although I happened to see one thing to fix when I woke up this morning. Feel my raw power. Rawr.

It wasn't that big a deal.

It kind of really was, though.

Every Thursday morning during the fall semester, Winry sat in the same spot at the same school coffee shop. It was the spot sent by the entire patron pantheon of cram papers. Maybe one person didn't need an entire booth, but it was in the corner, and the tops of the bench seats had opaque plastic barriers that just so happened to be perfect for minimizing excess visual chaos. For the most part, there weren't loud conversations, and the jazz music that came through the speakers helped her tune out people ordering coffee. Add to that the fact that she could use campus flex dollars and not her own bank account that was begging for mercy, and it was the perfect spot to get papers done.

But apparently not this spring.

As soon as Winry walked in, she noticed him in the corner. Some emo wannabe guy on his computer. Probably on Reddit complaining about how women didn't appreciate the amazing pics he sent them on Tinder. Or at least, it was a fair guess based on the sour look on his face. Why did this guy of all people have to steal the holy grail spot? Ugh. She was still gonna get her coffee, darn it.

"You know the deal, Sciezska. Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer."

"On it! You paying in flex?"

"Yeah." She scanned her student ID and lowered her voice. "Who's off-brand Gerard Way in the corner?"

"Who's Ger—"

"The punk kid."

"Ohhh. I can try to get his number for you, if you want."

"No, he looks like a total tool! And not the kind I like dealing with!"

"Which means you think he's hot. I didn't think you were into that type, but you're not wrong."

"For the last time, no, Sciezska! He took my spot! And I'm trying very, very hard to keep this to a stage whisper, but if you keep trying to set me up with some random creep, I won't be able to!"

A distinctly male voice grumbled, "I'm not a creep."

"Keep telling that to the girls on Tinder. I'm sure they'll understand eventually."

"Yeah, and I'll bet if you look at your 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign a little more, you'll understand it eventually." He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Lay off, it's eight in the morning. I said the only reason I even have a Tinder account is because my roommate stole my phone while I was going to the bathroom."

"Well, if you didn't want it, why didn't you delete it?"

"Eh, I figured if I really got sick of being single one day, it'd already be there."

"Never would have guessed you were single," Winry said dryly.

"Come on, it's way too early to be rubbing that kind of crap in. Who says I'm not fine with being single anyway?"

Sciezska timidly spoke up. "Medium roast with espresso and vanilla creamer?"

Winry thanked her as red jacket boy continued. "'Edward Elric, Bachelor.' Almost sounds as good as 'Edward Elric, Bachelor of Science.'"

"B.S. degree. Sounds about right."

"About time you stopped acting like I'm an idiot!"

Winry snorted. "That's not what I meant."

"Hey!"

"And with that, I'm going to go find some other spot to write my paper."

Edward, as his name apparently was, scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "good riddance". Maybe the librarians wouldn't get on her case too much for bringing in coffee.

-----

A week later, Winry walked into the cafe, assuming the circumstances of the previous week were an anomaly. They were not.

"Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer," she grumbled and sulked in the direction of the corner seat.

"Hey, don't start with me again, blondie. I've had a whopping four hours of sleep and I can't promise you'll like what comes out of my mouth."

"We're at a coffee shop. Get some coffee. I can't help it if you're too hung over to be polite."

"Now look, genius. I did not stay up until 4 A.M. working on a stupid chem paper for that sadistic pyromaniac excuse for a professor just for some random chick to accuse me of being hung over."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And for your information, coffee doesn't really help me wake up. It just helps me focus on homework." He lifted up his empty cup and gave it a shake.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"ADHD is a weird thing, and yet, here I am."

"Huh, interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pick up where I left off with the same stupid ten page paper I started last night."

"Oh right. Sure," Winry stammered. "Listen, I'm really sorry I just assumed things about you. It was wrong of me, and I'd like to make it up to you, if that's okay."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well...I could look over your paper once you're done writing it? I've got a paper of my own to write while I'm waiting, and I can sit right across the table here so you don't have to come get me. I won't try to talk to you or anything. Neither of us need that kind of distraction."

"Alright, alright. Get your coffee and sit down. The girl at the counter's been up there waiting for a good minute or two while you've been at confessional over here."

"Wait, she has?" Winry's eyes widened, and Edward laughed at her expense. He was kind of attractive when he wasn't scowling...wait what? She pouted and got up to retrieve her coffee. When Winry returned, she plopped down on the bench opposite Edward and opened her laptop. Peeking out from behind it, she added, "By the way, I'm Winry. I figured you ought to at least know the name of the person who's proofreading your paper."

"Well, Winry, you're the one who volunteered." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. The two worked on their assignments in silence, occasionally speaking up when necessary.

-----

Edward was in the corner again the next week as well.

"Hey, Edward! Mind if I join you for homework again?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but you didn't bother me too much last week, so you might as well." He turned away slightly.

"Great! Have you gotten your coffee yet? I didn't see a cup, and you got something the last two times."

"Eh, I haven't been here long. If you're going up and getting yours, would you mind ordering a caramel macchiato for me?" He asked, sliding his ID across the table.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be back in a sec."

She returned and slipped his ID back before pulling out her computer. "Do you have anything for me to look over this time?"

"Not this week. But if you have anything you need looked over, I can do that, too."

"Actually, I do, if you wouldn't mind."

"Winry, I just volunteered. Just send the paper to my school email. Mine's 'elricedwa'," he instructed as he proceeded to spell it.

"Medium roast and a caramel macchiato?" Sciezska called out.

"Coming!" Winry replied and turned to Edward. "I just sent it, so you should be able to start while I'm getting our stuff." Eyes glued to his laptop, Edward gave a thumbs up.

Once she returned with their drinks, Winry sat down and wordlessly set Edward's drink next to him.

"Thanks," he muttered distantly. His lips mirrored the words he was reading. Though his lips weren't plump by any stretch of the imagination, they were shapely. His steely concentration made the air leave Winry's lungs. To top it all off, the first rays of sunlight came through the window just right, hitting Edward's hair in a way that made it positively glow.

What was she thinking? Those were only the sorts of things people thought when they had a crush. She'd only had two positive interactions with him, including this one. ...well, maybe it was a crush. She could certainly do worse than someone with a questionable fashion sense. After all, he worked hard, and he got good grades, if the quality of his writing was any indication. Okay, fine. He was also drop dead gorgeous, if you could see past his clothing choices. Yeah, she had a crush.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"...no."

"Figures. I finished reading your paper. It's not bad, I just left a few suggestions for sentence structure. Now I am going to enjoy my caramel macchiato." He took off the lid and breathed in the steam with his eyes closed, nearly drooping into the cup in content. When he opened his eyes slowly, Winry was awestruck by the similarity between the color of his eyes and his drink.

"What?" Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. At all. Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged. She reopened the document and went through his suggested edits. Gnawing her lip in concentration, she leaned forward a bit to settle in and tackle the editing.

"...hey, uh, Winry?" Edward gulped. "Are you going to drink your coffee?"

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks, Edward!" she smiled.

"No–no problem. And you can call me Ed, you know. Most people do. Except for that excuse for a professor that calls me pipsqueak. Can you believe he's my advisor? I mean, come on, I'm a grown man. I'm not that short."

Winry made a poor attempt at containing her laughter. "Okay then, Ed. Prove it. Stand up."

"Fine." He slid out of the booth and stood. Winry followed suit and appraised their respective heights.

"Well, I'd hardly call you tall, but you're at least taller than me by a few inches, for whatever that's worth."

Edward grinned as if he had won some sort of prize. "Time for shorties to sit down now!"

"Watch it now. You're not too far from that label yourself, mister."

They both returned to their positions in the booth and worked steadily for the next hour. At the end of that time, Winry closed her laptop. "Ed, are you okay? You seem distracted."

"ADHD. I'm always distracted," he dismissed.

"No, like, are you sick or something? You did get more than four hours of sleep this time, right?"

"No comment." Ed's mouth twitched. He mumbled barely loud enough to hear, "Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can drive you over to the health center."

"N-no. That's not it." He exhaled, then slid a napkin across the table. His hands trembled slightly. "Anyway, here's my number. In case you need me to look over a paper. Or whatever. I've got a class soon."

Winry blushed, but tucked the napkin in her laptop. "Thanks, Ed. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

-----

Winry: This goes with your major, right?

Edward: Blocked

[kaylees-fandomworld]

The Gangster and His Angel (Bobby Ikon)

Chapter 4

Y/N’s Pov

“Hey, do you think I’m too easy?” Nina asked from the end of your bed with her head hanging over the side of it. You looked at her extremely confused.

“What makes you think that you’re ‘too easy’?” You ask staring at her tall figure. For as long as you’ve known Nina, you can’t remember anything about her having a boyfriend or even occasional one night stand, so you wanted to know why she asked that.

“I don’t know, I guess it has to do with the guy I met last night. Oh my god, he was so hot and damn he could he work his body.” She exclaimed. You laughed at her outburst, as you moved to the end of the bed, laying in the same position as her.

“Did you get his name?” I wanted to know who the man was that, has stolen my best friend’s heart.

“Well his name is Jihwan, but he prefers to be called Jay.” She said, with flushed cheeks. “He even gave me his number.” She chirped. It was nice to see her happy, especially over a guy.

“So do you think he could be the one for you?” You smirk, sitting up. She followed your movements, tilting her head to the side, pondering for an answer to your question.

“Yeah maybe, but I’m not going to get my hopes up, for now, he is just a one nighter unless he feels the need to text me.” She spoke as if she was unphased by the situation. You laughed once again, shaking your head at her antics.

“Wow I’ve known you for almost a year and yet you never fail to amaze me.” The two of you giggle.

“Well I still know nothing about you, why don’t you tell me about that cute guy who helped you the other day.” She asked, smirking and wiggling her eyebrows at you. The blood rushed to your cheeks as you thought about that day, but then you remembered how much of a jerk he was to you.

“Don’t worry about him he’s a huge ass.” You sneer. Nina looked at you like you were insane.

“Who cares, he is pretty hot you should go for it, besides, what’s so bad about him? Bad boys are sexy, and from what I’ve heard they’re not that bad in bed either.”

“Okay first of all, eww. Second of all, honestly I don’t think he likes me very much.” You spoke, looking down, picking at your nails. Nina tilted her head again, the confusion fading into a look of disbelief.

“How could he not like you?! Girl you’re beautiful, smart, and sweet, not to mention the dash of sass you keep bottled up. If he doesn’t like you then his ass is blind and stupid.” She exclaimed, rather loudly. You just stare at her. Yeah, your friends and family tell you that you’re beautiful, but you don’t believe it. There were so many things that could change that opinion. You look away from her for a moment before getting up from the bed.

“I’m hungry, you wanna go to the diner for lunch?” You quickly changed the subject. Before she could respond, her stomach growled. The two of you erupted into a fit of laughter.

“Well if that answers your question, then let's go.” Nina cheered running out of the room to the front door. You shook your head following her.

As you two walked down the street, Nina proceeded to make fun of random people, urging you to laugh. That was the thing about Nina, she has never really cared what people thought about her or her opinion. She always felt free to speak her mind, even if it was a little mean. You honestly envied her and her carefree spirit, in which you use to possess yourself before life decided to screw you over.

“Earth to Y/N!” Nina yelled, waving her hand in front of your face. You looked at her with confusion before realizing that you must have zoned out

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You answered, your cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. She laughed at you making your face heat up more if that was even possible. People stared at the two of you, you with the face of a tomato and Nina laughing like a lunatic.

“Hahaha, you should h-have seen you f-face ahahaahhh. Ughhh you kill me!” She breathed still smiling.

“Ha yeah okay, c-can we just keep walking please, p-people a-are staring.” Your nerves started picking up as several pairs of eyes were set on you and Nina. Her smile quickly faded as she notices how you were looking at the ground, with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Yeah sure come on let's go.” She hooked her right arm with your left one pulling you towards the door of the diner. When you guys walked in some of your co-workers were stopped what they were doing to stare at you. You hadn’t been to work for two days, because your boss called and told you to take the rest of the week off. To say that they were happy to see you would be an understatement, as they whispered to one another. Nina pulled you to a booth in the corner, far away from everyone else.

“What’s going on?” you asked with your head hung low.

“Well, to be honest, the boss is really pissy about what happened with you and is trying to decide on whether or not to fire you. I told her that if she wanted to keep this place afloat then she really shouldn't.”

“Why did you tell her that?”

“Because you’re the nicest waitress here. Most of the customers that come in here always want you at their waitress.” She explained her argument.

“That is such bull shit.” Someone said in anger. You and Nina looked up from the table coming face to face with a waitress named Hae-Ju. Apparently, she was hired yesterday, but you have no clue why.

“Hae-Ju you're supposed to be nice to your customers.” Nina smiled, although it pretty transparently fake.

“Why should I be nice to her, when she has my man wrapped around her finger.” She roared. Your eyes went wide, what the hell is she talking about?

“What the are you talking about? She is too introverted to even talk to a guy unless she is taking his order.” Nina defended. Although what she said was a little offensive it's the thought that counts. This seemed to make Hae-Ju angrier.

“Well then, tell me why Bobby is always following around and watching you, huh? Or how about how you put on that show for everyone just so you could get close to him?” She hissed. You stared at her in shock. He’s the one who has been following me around? Why?

“All have you know I barely know him and I sure as hell don't know you, so if you're going to make accusations about something, why don’t you make sure you have your facts straight before you get your panties in a twist, oh wait by the looks of it, you probably spread your legs too much to feel the need to wear panties.” Hae-Ju gasped at your remark. Nina looked at you completely flabbergasted by your outburst. This was unlike you. You weren't someone to speak your mind or to throw insults at people, but she was getting under your skin. You felt a new need to defend yourself, to show at least one person that you weren’t helpless.

“Y/N, let’s just go okay.” Nina urged. She knew that this was about to end really badly, and she wasn’t going to stand there and let the future unfold.

“You stay the hell away from Bobby or else!” Hae-Ju threatened with venom seeping through every word.

“Or else what? You’re going to make my life a living hell, well get in line because you wouldn’t be the first to try.” You spoke. You had no idea where this courage was coming from but you liked it.

“Oh believe me it will be worse than anything you’ve ever experienced.”

“You talk like you know what I’ve been through, look I don’t have time to deal with you, so have a good day.” You spoke walking out the door of the diner. Nina followed you with a look that only proved how proud she was.

“That was badass! Her face was priceless, where the hell did all of that anger come from?” She beamed. You shrugged as the anger suddenly faded and you began to feel helpless once again.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired of people acting like they know me. Hey, I’m gonna go home, I will see you on Monday.” You said with a frown. You didn’t even wait to hear her response before you took off. When you got home you ran inside, slamming your front door behind you. Your breathing picked up as you slid down the back of the door, tears poured from your eyes as you let out all of your frustrations. You didn’t know why you were so upset, but something in you was ready to be released.

You cried for what felt like days but was only a few hours. When you finally calmed down, you picked yourself up off the floor and walked to your bathroom.

As you stepped in the room you caught a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Your cheeks were red and puffy, your blue eyes were now a dull grey, and pieces of hair clung to your face. You looked like hell and you felt like it too. Without another thought, you stripped yourself of your clothing, getting into the shower. You turned the knob for the hot water all the way up, not bothering with the cold water. Steam covered the glass of the shower, and you took that as your sign to step under the water. You hissed as it burned you slightly, but you didn’t move away, you allowed it to scold you. Soon you got used to the sting of the hot water, deciding it was time to finish up. You got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around your body, and headed into your bedroom to get dressed. You put on a pair of underwear and an oversized hoodie, that for some reason you couldn't remember how you had gotten it. You didn’t bother putting on pants, as it was only you in the house. You brushed your hair and teeth, then headed into the living room. You plopped down on the couch, switched on the tv, and threw a blanket over your body. As you watched a random show, you kept thinking about everything that has happened in the past two weeks. First you saved someone who you are pretty sure is part of a gang, then you had a full-on mental breakdown in a public place, next you found out that the man who is hunting you down has gone completely MIA, then you get told that you are wanted by someone named Alec, and last but not least you met Bobby’s psycho sex toy who wants to put you into an early grave. What else do you want to throw at my face? You thought.

Suddenly a knock was heard from the front door. In irritation, you got up to see who it was. You swung the door open, not really caring what you looked like, however, that suddenly changed when you saw who it was.

“Wow umm did I come at a bad time? Hey is that my hoodie?” Bobby asked. You just blankly stared at him, before turning around to go back into the living room. Bobby followed you inside, closing the door, then coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“What do you want?” You snap. Bobby cleared his throat as if he were trying to find what to say.

“Well I um, I heard about what happened and I wanted to um well I wanted to uh see if you were okay.” He spoke rubbing the back if his neck. He seemed nervous, considering how intimidating his demeanor is. You looked at him for a moment, studying his face.

“Why are you really here? I know you've been following me, she told me.” You sigh looking down at your hands. “Why don't you just leave you don't really care about if I'm okay or not.” You added. You went to stand up not realizing that his hoodie had ridden up your stomach, not only showing you sky blue lace panties but numerous scars as well.

“What the hell?” Bobby shot up from the couch, grabbing the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up slightly. Your eyes grew wide as you feared the worst. You tried to pull away from him but his grip was too strong. He pushed you to the couch still holding on to the piece of fabric, following you. He climbed on top of you, sitting on your bare thighs. You tried kicking and punching him but it was no use, he was stronger than you.

“Please stop.” You cried out.

“Angel I’m not going to hurt you. Trust me.” He held onto your hands together with one of his, as he looked into your fear filled eyes. His eyes hosted a look of sincerity in them, one that made all of your worries fade, made you quit fighting. Once your body relaxed a little, he let your hands free, placing back on the hem of the hoodie. He lifted it up just above your belly button, revealing your flawed waist. The scars burned an image in his mind, of all the things that could have happened. One really caught his eye, the discolored skin screaming two words at him. ‘My Whore’. You squirmed under his intense gaze. His eyes showed so many emotions. Anger, sadness, and disgust flashed in his brown eyes. He quickly got off of you taking off towards the door.

“Wait, Bobby!” You called, but it was too late he had slammed the door and left. You were confused. Why did he leave like that? He is probably disgusted by me now. Your mind filled with so many bad thoughts. You’ve never voluntarily allowed anyone but your doctor to see the graveyard of scars that was your stomach. However he was different, you felt like you could trust him. As you thought about it, one thought came to your mind.

You were falling for him.

Unknown pov

“Was it her?” I asked, sitting in front of the tv with a bag of chips.

“Yes it was her, but you forgot to mention how much of a bitch she is.” She spoke. I laughed at that statement. Y/N was and still is a feisty one and I can’t wait to have her home with me once again.

“That she is, when will you bring her to me?” I question her as she plopped down on the floor next to me.

“Actually, how do you feel about getting to her all on your own?” She smirked.

“I’m listening.”

“Well if I can keep Bobby away from her then you can swoop in and take your prize.” She smiled at me. She had a point if that guy would stay the hell away from what is mine then I can get her back. “Well, that seems like a plan Ms. Hae-Ju.” I appreciated, before turning back to the tv.

“Good I can have my man and you can have your whore.It’s a win win.”

[crimsxnflxwerz]

I would like that [shyan oneshot]

I would like that summary: the third person who knew Ryan was trans was the ghost that haunted his apartment. rating: teen+ fandom: buzzfeed unsolved pairing: ryan bergara/shane madej warnings: mentioned [murder/death/drug use/stalker/abuser] tags: ghost!shane, trans!ryan, ghost boyfriend, lol, weird universe notes: this is just a random little thing that wouldn’t leave my head no matter how hard i tried so I wrote it down to give myself some peace. have fun guys! this makes no sense, so fair warning!

Ryan could count the number of people who knew he was trans on one hand. 

The first person that he counted would be himself, of course. He’d known ever since he’d heard the word. Whether it was from some botched argument about gender roles or a fresh criticism of Rocky Horror Picture Show, he couldn’t remember, but ever since that he’d been sure that was what he was.

The second person to find out was his brother, Jake. He’d always had a good relationship with his brother, and that didn’t change when Jake had grabbed Ryan’s laundry for him when he still lived at home and accidentally witnessed Ryan’s binder. Jake actually didn’t even realize what it was at first, thinking it some kind of cheap sports bra, and Ryan figured this accident was as good as any to use to come out to him.

It seems horrible to say, but his parents don’t make this list. Ryan moved out of his parents house after graduating college and getting a job with a company he interned with. When he was safely away with his parents, he legally changed his name, started T shots, and got top surgery. He still spoke to his parents, but it was usually over the phone, and if they noticed a change in his voice, they refused to mention it.

The third person who knew about it wasn’t even really a person at all, but rather it was the ghost that haunted his apartment. 

Sounds crazy, and for a while, Ryan thought he was. He went to therapy briefly,not for any depression, just to help him through his transition. He figured maybe the stress was getting to him, or the T affected his brain somehow, but couldn’t find any definitive evidence that linked these things to what he was experiencing.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in ghosts, but rather, now that he was actually the subject of a haunting- he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

There were many things to tip him off that it was a ghost in his house and not just random happenstance that seemed paranormal. The first thing that happened was one night he had been drifting off while watching television on his couch. Behind him, on his kitchen counter, his microwave had randomly turned on. He jumped up and turned it off, before any damage was done, but afterwards just blankly stared at it. He had just gotten the thing, brand new. It shouldn’t have been acting up yet. He figured he’d check it out later. 

The second thing happened after he adopted his first dog, a dachshund named Dori. The first few weeks with her were eventful, but more so in the new puppy way than haunting. After he potty trained her, he let her sleep with him at night, making sure to leave the door open in case she got hungry or needed to pee. 

One night, he woke to find Dori softly growling, while still curled up next to him. He rubbed his eyes and tried to look over to the door she was facing to see if something was there, but he couldn’t see anything. All of a sudden, however, the door slammed shut, and he was snapped right out of his groggy state. He stared in horror and fear at his bedroom door. He didn’t go to sleep again that night.

The third thing to happen was something that continued to happen regularly after that. Ryan would wake up, go into the bathroom, and take a shower. After coming out, he noticed that there was some form of scribbling on his mirror, as if someone had run their fingers through the steam. It never really spelled anything, at most creating a dumb shape or something. At first, Ryan was scared of it, but then he figured it was harmless, so he took it as just a normal part of his life. 

All these things eventually prompted him to do some research on his apartment. At first, he didn’t find anything, but that was just from surface level research. He began to get to know his neighbors, and they were fairly quick to open up. Apparently, a man had lived there before him. He had worked as a freelance website designer, but was also known to frequent the local bar and sing or do stand up comedy. His neighbors were deeply saddened when they found out that he had passed away. 

His name had been Shane, and he overdosed on sleeping pills at 35. He had no family or friends close enough to him to confirm anything, but police ruled it a suicide. 

After this, Ryan tried communicating with him. He purchased a Ouija board to ask him some questions, but he either must’ve done something wrong or Shane wasn’t too keen to cooperate, because nothing happened. 

Ryan forgot about it for a while, forgot about him. After a few weeks of no more activity, something else happened. Ryan came home one day to find Dori cowering near the front door. Everything in his apartment was okay, but in his bathroom, the medicine cabinet looked like it just exploded. The door was handing off it’s hinges, bottles, pills, liquids, band-aids, everything scattered across the floor. Ryan was glad that Dori was too scared to eat anything, but he wondered what had caused the outburst. 

He tried reaching out to Shane again, and this time, the Ouija board spelled out “pills” and then stopped working with him. 

The interaction basically confirmed that the ghost in his apartment was, in fact, Shane. For whatever reason, he was unwilling to talk to him. Except to tell him his non-explanation as to why he destroyed his medicine cabinet. 

He figured that before he left for work that day, he’d taken a pain killer to help his headache- something he did very rarely, since he didn’t normally get headaches.

Maybe it bothered Shane, considering how he died. 

Anyways, Ryan knew that Shane knew that he was trans. That was his third person. How did he know this? Well, the scribbles on his mirror after each shower slowly became a dialogue between them. Shane would normally leave something for him to see (like “dog?”), and Ryan would reply with an answer (like “Dori”) and then leave the bathroom. 

One day he stepped out of the shower to something quite comical. It was a drawing of him, albeit crude, and there was an arrow pointing to his crotch with a question mark at the end. Ryan rolled his eyes playfully, and wrote “I’m trans” on the mirror. The next thing that happened really spooked him. 

Slowly, new words started forming in the condensation, “trans?” Ryan stared in disbelief for a moment, before he recovered and wrote, “female transitioned to male”.

There were no more responses after that, but Shane didn’t go away.

Through his time living there, he began to warm up to Shane. The fact that he was regularly interacting with a spirit was wild enough, but that spirit knew and understood that he was trans as well was even more outlandish. He couldn’t imagine telling anyone about it. This would be his secret- but he was fine with that- he was used to keeping secrets. 

Sometimes he would wake up to his coffee already made, or the news on. One time he woke up to find that Shane had literally picked out his clothes for the day. 

Ryan began to get more and more curious about the specter living with him. He asked around and found out Shane’s last name, and scoured the web for any information about the man. He even frequented the bar that Shane had gone to in his life to perform stand up. Some people knew Ryan as the guy who moved into Shane’s old apartment, and they were pretty willing to share stories about the dude. Apparently he had lots of friends.

So why did he kill himself? Why did he overdose on those sleeping pills? Was it an accident? Ryan realized that he was being nosy, but he had to know. It was killing him to not know.

Maybe he was being too invasive, since not long after he started researching and compiling information, things started happening in his apartment. He’d get out of the shower to the word “no” written all over the mirror. He’d come back to his apartment, only to find his lights flickering or his fridge door opening and closing. Sometimes, he found Dori growling and barking at empty corners, and random spots in his apartment freezing cold. 

Was Shane angry that he was looking?

Ryan set up some candles to try out the Ouija board again, but each time he lit one, he would go on to the next to find the first one had already gone out. He tried several times, the candles getting put out each time, before he gave up. He cursed at the room.

“You don’t want to talk to me? Fine! Fuck you!” he shouted, making Dori whimper next to him. 

That night he dreamed of a tall, lanky figure with soft features, and messy hair. He had warm, brown eyes- calloused hands- rough five o-clock shadow. The figure in his dream slipped into bed next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. He felt warm as he slept. When he woke, the space next to him was still warm like someone had slept there. It couldn’t have been Dori, since she always slept at his feet.

So maybe Ryan had developed a little bit of a crush. 

Even though it was impossible. How could he have a crush on a ghost? Though, the ghost knew more about him than anyone else in his life. Shane knew how Ryan liked his coffee, he knew that while Ryan found it hard to wake up early, he enjoyed the soft silence before dawn. Shane knew that he sang pop songs in the shower, and that he preferred shampoo that smelled like lilacs, and sometimes when he was cooking he did a little dance while he waited for something from the oven.

And Shane knew that he was trans, and he respected that.

Not that he’s sure what Shane would or could do if he didn’t respect that. He was a ghost after all.

When he came home from work a few days later, he found something tied onto Dori’s collar. It was a little note. He opened it. It read: “talk ?” in a messy scrawl he recognized from the many conversations on his bathroom mirror he had.

He smiled and brought out the candles and Ouija board and got everything ready. He opened a channel and put his hands lightly on the planchette. He moved the object over Hello to welcome Shane, and then let it move freely.

“Sorry,” Shane spelled out. “End like me.”

“Were you afraid I’d end up like you?” Ryan asked. He was sort of confused, because he wasn’t really depressed or anything. Ever since he moved out of his parents house, he felt the stress of hiding his identity wear off. After top surgery, he felt even better. The only thing stressing him out right now was Shane.

The planchette moved to the yes on the board. Ryan shook his head.

“I’m fine, Shane,” he reassured him. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Not depressed.” Shane spelled out. Ryan paused for a moment. He wasn’t really sure what he meant by that. Did he mean to say that he knew Ryan wasn’t depressed- or had he not been depressed? Did that mean that what happened to him wasn’t a suicide?

“Did...Did you...” Ryan started, hesitating. “Did you kill yourself?”

There was along, silent moment where the planchette didn’t move at all. Then it slowly moved to the no in the corner. Ryan felt like his heart had stopped. It had been the usual story, the funny guy with no family killed himself in his apartment alone one night. He hadn’t really found out anything about the cops doing any blood tests or anything- only an empty pill bottle on the bedside table. He figured that kind of thing wouldn’t have been released anyways, but maybe it was never done. Maybe they saw this lonely, dead man and figured it was a suicide.

Was Shane still here because he had been given no justice in death?

“What happened to you?” Ryan asked, even though he knew the ghost wouldn’t be able to give him any long answers. He stayed quiet, however. The planchette remained still for a moment longer, before Ryan’s laptop that had been sitting on the coffee table near the couch flew open and turned on. Things were being typed into the search bar, and eventually a social media account was brought up. It was a dating website profile. Ryan let go of the planchette and moved over to look at it closer.

Shane Madej. Age, 35. Male. Hey, my name is Shane. I’m really just looking for a chill relationship with someone I have some stuff in common with. I love cartoons and video games, so I’m kinda nerdy, but I’m not opposed to a night on the town, or a romantic dinner and movie. I’m obsessed with popcorn, and just a foodie in general. If interested, please hit me up, maybe we could meet.

There were lots of comments and likes on his profile, but they were all from a long time ago- a few years in fact. It looked like the account had been inactive for at least a year before Shane had passed away. The most recent comments, however- just weeks before Shane had died, were the most disturbing. They were from a man named Zach Smith, a white man with dark hair who looked to be in his forties. 

Zach Smith Hey babe, want to catch a drink with ol Zach-y sometime? I’ll make it worth your while.

Zach Smith Hey, answer me sweetheart, or you’ll regret it, I promise.

Zach Smith Oh darling, I’m obsessed with you. I know where you live, I saw you park outside your apartment today and I almost just went up and grabbed you.

The comments went on, but Ryan couldn’t stomach them any longer. Ryan looked back at the planchette that started moving on it’s own. It spelled out found me and hurt and drugs. Ryan felt his stomach flip as he glanced between the Ouija board and the dating website. He clicked over to Zach Smith’s profile, and immediately saw that it was a fake account with a false name. He turned back to the board again and saw that Shane was spelling something else out.

“Hate that they think I wanted to die,” he spelled out. “afraid of drugs afraid for you.”

“Why are you afraid for me?” Ryan asked.

“Trans boy,” he spelled out. Ryan felt a little cold at the explanation. He sighed.

“Just because I’m a trans boy?” he asked, sounding a little annoyed.

“I was gay.” the planchette spelled. Ryan let out a soft ‘oh’ upon realizing the connection. His killer had been preying on gay men looking for relationships online, and that was how he’d found Shane in the first place.

Ryan wondered if he should turn over this information to the police. But, It wasn’t as if Shane’s case was any kind of mystery to them. He knew the dark truth, but no one else did.

“Is there anyone you want me to tell?” he asked Shane. The planchette didn’t move. Nothing moved. Dori started barking, but after Ryan reached out and pulled the puppy into his lap, the candles were blown out. He figured this session was over. Maybe Shane could only speak for so long before he got tired.

Either way, a lot of information had been exchanged today. 

That night, when Ryan slipped into bed, he waited for the dip in his mattress and the warm arms around his waist to fall asleep. Peaking over his shoulder, he could just make out the angle of a broad shoulder, and he felt safe. 

A week later, he came home to a note on his fridge. it read: nobody. He could tell it was written by Shane. At first, he wasn’t sure what it meant, then he remembered his question from the other night about telling people. Shane was killed, and he didn’t want anyone to know. Ryan wondered if Shane was estranged from his family because he was queer, too. He wondered if Shane just didn’t want to reopen old scars with new information about his death. Whatever the reason, it was Shane’s decision, so he respected it. It wasn’t like the police would believe him if he told him he could talk to Shane from beyond the grave or anything. 

“I wish you weren’t dead, though,” Ryan said out loud to himself. “Although, if you never died, we never would have met.”

After the revelations, weeks went by without any communications from Shane. He attempted to talk to him several times, but after still only getting radio silence on his fifth attempt, he decided to stop trying. He knew Shane was still hanging around, he hadn’t moved on or anything yet, he just wasn’t talking to him. Ryan still felt the familiar presence join him for bed at night, and the blanket of security he always associated with Shane meandering about the house moving things around. He wondered why Shane wasn’t talking anymore, but he was okay with it. 

He was starting to really settle into the neighborhood- gaining more and more friends- and he’d even invited his brother over to his apartment a few times. His job was the best thing ever, he had fun everyday, and worked with amazing people. Though, no matter how many people he met and became friends with, a little nagging voice in the back of his head would always remind him of Shane. He wondered how different the man would’ve been while he was alive. Ryan had heard plenty of funny or wild stories from everyone who had known Shane, but hearing a story and living one where two different things. 

A year went by, and Ryan was finally looking like the kind of male he wanted to look like. He started working out to give his body a more defined shape- lifting, jogging, stuff like that. He wasn’t super obsessed with working out or anything, but he did enjoy it as just a little past time thing to stay in good health. He also loved checking out his own flexing in the mirror sometimes, although he would never admit it.

It was the one year anniversary of the first day Ryan had moved into his new apartment. Dori was bigger, and Ryan was thinking of getting another dachshund to keep her company (and just because he wanted another one). That day, he came home from work and popped himself some fresh popcorn, making more than he usually made just for an extra little treat. He plopped down to watch Netflix on his tv, when he heard something. It sounded like a shifting noise, like someone was shuffling around, and it was coming from his bedroom. 

He put his popcorn down on the coffee table and grabbed a skateboard that he had resting up against his hall closet. He carefully approached his bedroom, seeing that the door was ajar. He crept up and paused at the door momentarily, taking a shaky breath in, before slamming the door open. Inside his bedroom, there was a tall, lanky man, back facing him. He was wearing a worn, jean jacket and black pants, but no shoes. His brown hair was shaved on the sides, long on top, and unkempt- some pieces sticking straight up dramatically. 

As soon as he saw him, Ryan screamed. The man spun around, the motion almost comical, and he started screaming as well. Ryan, spooked, swung the skateboard at the stranger, hitting him so hard that it cracked. Although, he’d only managed to hit the length of the man’s arm, even though he was aiming for his head. He was too short.

The man started speaking, or rather, shouting.

“Wait! Wait!” he begged. “Wait a second! Ryan, wait a second!”

“How do you know my name?” Ryan demanded, dropping the skateboard, but not relaxing in the slightest. He looked as if he were about to bolt. 

“It’s me-” he said. “It’s Shane. I’m Shane. You can see me now.”

“It’s-- It’s uh--” Ryan stuttered, still feeling shell shocked. He looked the man up and down. Now that his brain wasn’t in danger mode, he could tell that the man looked very familiar, similar to the man he’d seen in all the pictures. From the warm, brown eyes, to the worn jean jacket, to the unkempt hair and soft stubble framing his face. He was tall, and awkward, like he heard about. 

But-- he was right there- he was standing right there and Ryan had hit him with a skateboard, not passed through him, actually hit him! This person was a solid, real human.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Ryan said bluntly. He didn’t mean to sound so rude, or cold, but he was confused. Wasn’t Shane dead? Hadn’t he been killed? Was his happy life just a dream? Was this a dream?

“Well,” Shane said, patting himself down. “I was dead. I might still be?” 

Ryan felt some of the tension in him melt away. Just a tiny trickle, at the smile that pulled Shane’s face, and he sensed himself smiling back- if only just slightly. He shakily reached out a hand for Shane to touch, to see if he was really real- if he was really solid. Shane saw this, and reached out as well. 

When their hands touched, Ryan felt it, and he was warm. The calloused pads of Shane’s fingers traced over the lines in Ryan’s hand, sending shivers all through him. He stared for a heartbeat or two at Shane, completely speechless. 

“You’re warm...” he said. “You’re alive?” 

Shane didn’t move or response to the question- as if this all was some kind of illusion- as if the wrong movement would shatter it all. Ryan payed that no mind, he had one thing in mind that he wanted to do.

He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Shane’s torso before the other man could protest. Ryan pressed his ear hard against the man’s chest and listened. Against his ear, he heard, without a doubt, a heartbeat. After a moment, he felt Shane’s awkward arms come down around him, and it was like all of those night they shared Ryan’s bed, but this time- Shane wasn’t cloaked in darkness. This time, it was real, and Ryan could hug him back. 

“H-How?” Ryan asked softly, feeling a weird, overwhelming emotion bubble up in him. Confusion, sadness, happiness, and love.

“I don’t know,” he said. “One moment, I was about to toss around your pillows for something to do, the next moment, I could see my reflection in your mirror.”

“You were gonna mess up my bed?” Ryan laughed, but it sounded a little choked, as a few tears ran down his face. 

Shane moved his hand to wipe away the tears.

“Yeah, I’m haunting you after all,” he said, although his voice was softer now, his arms pulling Ryan closer- tighter- “isn’t that what ghosts do?”

“I guess it is.” Ryan said, and closed his eyes. He felt safe. “But you’re not a ghost anymore. What are you gonna do now?”

“Idk,” he muttered. “become a human again?” 

Ryan laughed, Shane joining in, too. “You can stay here if you’d like.”

Shane paused for a moment, before running his hand through Ryan’s hair. “I would like that. No- I would love it.”

-the end(?)-