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sameschmidtdiffname · 10 months ago

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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

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violsva · 9 months ago

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February Reading

I liked doing the reading post in January and thinking about books is better than thinking about family things! so here's another one.

Recent: Not all that recent now, but I finished Imre at the beginning of the month and I did actually enjoy it very much. It's very Edwardian, both in style and attitude, but along with the Weird Ideas about ethnicity there's also a sincere attempt to refute misogyny in gay male culture. And idk, the romance is just sweet.

Also read Wired Love by Ella Cheever Thayer, which I first heard of somewhere on tumblr most of a decade ago, and loved that too! And this one actually has surprisingly little in the way of Period Typical Attitudes. People respect each other's boundaries (or, at least, the good ones do) and there's a very nice portrait of life in urban boarding houses in the late 19th century.

Read Paladin's Faith by T. Kingfisher, which I loved all the way through, but I finished it at a point when I had kind of a lot of pain and PMS, which means I have ended up with no ability to comment on it. I liked the ground wights. Oh, also halfway through I decided Wren should ditch her party and marry me. Possibly I have a Type.

Reread an early Cat Sebastian, which, well, it's nice to see how much she's improved.

Still reading and listening to a lot of RWRB fic. I don't think there's anything I want to specifically call out as good, but it's nice and non-demanding. At least as long as I stick to AUs or shove it into the wish-fulfillment area of my brain rather than the class-conscious part. Oh, and I relistened to the first chapter of Life of Crime the other evening, that was great.

Current: In the middle of the climax of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love - thank god for skip-the-line copies, I have been reading this very slowly over the last six weeks. Recommended if it sounds at all like your kind of thing. Hopefully I will finish it on my commute tomorrow.

Have started The AI Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole, because sometimes reading about living in a dystopia is, what's the word, sympathetic.

Last year I read The Astonishing Adventure of Jane Smith by Patricia Wentworth and wondered why she doesn't have the same reputation as, at least, Ngaio Marsh or Josephine Tey. Now I'm reading The Coldstone and finding it somewhat less impressive. Possibly because of SAD and possibly because it doesn't have any characters I straight up like as much as I liked Jane Smith. But the bit I read today had some very fun sneaking around at night pretending to be a ghost. Also a bicycle. I should read more books with bicycles.

Also I got Poetic Designs by Stephen Adams (one of my university professors) from my brother (we should have two copies between us, but mine has disappeared in a box somewhere) and am rereading that for nice practical unemotional nonfiction and nostalgia.

Future: I am going to pick up a gay sci-fi regency romance that I found in the local library and hope it is as awesome as it could be. And either Sixpenny Octavo by Annick Trent or One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny, depending on whether I feel more like even more regency or even more medieval by then. And I have If You'll Have Me by @eunnieboo on hold at the library.

At some point I'm going to go through my reading file and run the stats to see if I'm actually reading more queer fiction this year than usual. Probably not, honestly.

#books #reading #reading log

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yanderecandystore · 1 year ago

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If you are a fuckin dumbass clap your hands 👏

If you are a fuckin moron clap your hands 👏

If you make them wait for you, for more than a year, if you just suddenly disappear clap your hands 👏👏👏

It's been WAY TOO LONG OH MY GOD- How do you guys put up with me Jesus Christ.

The last time I've talked about what was happening in my life I've mentioned that I just started working and trying to rebuild a social life, I also mentioned in one post how I got sick for a week or two I think- So I want to explain that part of the reason for me not writing anymore comes from the fact that my work exhausted me to oblivion.

I realized that kids were just a lot harder to work with than I anticipated and that I didn't want to stay my whole life working in the daycare because I started to pick up on my … Very unhealthy habits of coping.

So I recently quit, because my contract actually didn't seem to have a limit (I was so hoping it would have ended sooner but I'm glad I stayed longer, lmao I need money-). And I feel a lot better now, I'm not joking when I say that I actually got sick from work (the many times I got sick and couldn't do anything, were because of me being stressed, I no joke didn't notice this until my doctor pointed it out to me that I shouldn't be coming to see her with so little time in between meetings 💀)

The other reason is that I started writing and drawing for a webcomic I wanted to make about Brazilian magical girls with a fairy theme- And I felt conflicted whenever I tried to write for both my blog and the webcomic (I'm sorry I'm a one minded person, because if I try making more than one thing my brain fries 💀💀). Which by the way, my job made me give up on that too, like I know jobs are not supposed to be fun, that work is hard and oftentimes we'll be tired- But I never felt more soulless than at that time.

Another reason was that Tumblr kinda took a lot of space in my phone so I had to uninstall it and using it's website mode is just 🤺🤺🤺

I've been going to therapy now, to deal with my said unhealthy "coping habits" which I don't want to specify because you guys don't have to be burdened with that (also because it can be triggering to some), dealing with past trauma and how I can heal from it has been wonderful and to be honest I really do want to continue with the blog, but I have to be honest here: I'm a huge procrastinator when it comes to writing, I try to multi write (like multitask) different requests and fanfics at the same time- And that doesn't work for me 🤡

So. My writing will probably be very slow, and again I'm sorry for everyone who sent asks LAST YEAR (I'm so sorry I'm not even joking like seriously that's so fuckin mean and I didn't mean to do that I just suck at doing tasks ;-;).

I hope everyone is doing well, to everyone new I'm sorry you have to get to know the author by this way lmao, and I hope you're having a good day as well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep's stuff #choco stuff #I'm so sorry I'm back #I'm a MOROOOOOOOON #I MISSED Y'ALL I'M SO SORRY

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years ago

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hi, eonni! i dont know if you still would keep me in your thoughts. better if you do, or even if you don't, i’d be glad both the ways. maybe if i’m being so dumb and vague, im yun.. hello :')

i disappeared suddenly, because life has never been good on me. i miss you dearly, and i don't have the guts to come infront as a non anon, aka someone with a true blog. of the many people i met in my previous blog, you're the one with whom i felt the most safe with, so i just wanted to drop in..

is it too awkward or sudden to drop in?

i read ldomlt chap 10, and it absolutely broke me. of all the things ive learnt so far, i know it's okay to mess up, because we're all humans. but the avalanche of everything which went on..im alright, because it's just common and we're all humans. but one thing for sure is, yoongi and oc are both idiots, complete idiots, lacking proper communication. with jk, he's an amazing guy, is he single? askin for a friend, obv, ty ty

i do so realised that maybe they won't ever share that golden bond they did, but maybe they can improve and develop with time (: (:

and one thing for sure is, that yoongi totally is gaslighting.

i do know that one shouldn't presume anything, and me myself am, because i do know that yoongi is scared. yoongi is scared that he loves her, and she deserves someone who's better than him, and even some stances of past relationships which is making him gaslight everything, even his own emotions. i do get it, it's the human nature afterall. he's scared, but i hope he understands that life is all about feeling it..

don't know, if im logical for it, but it's, i suppose, oc is in the stage of grief and denial, as well as anger. it's okay, the storyline was great, and i absolutely appreciate you for keeping it so clean and natural, because (having faced some so similar situation myself,) some novel shit absolutely doesn't occur in real life, like they appear when you want them to. life makes you lick your shoelaces and taste the bitterness, and sometimes it burns you out...she has gone through a lot..

but however, i truly hope that the story has a good ending: i know some things can't be mend even after years of exile, but they can be better. i know that yoongi loves her, cares about her, which is why he even came to the party.. and the part when he said

“ i just want you to be happy ”

my heart broke too.

but i hope these idiots take upon and talk, and things get better.

and i hope everything is smoother on your side too, eonni (:

YUN BABY MY DONGSAENG OMG 🥺 it's so good to hear from you!!!!

of course you have been in my thoughts!! i have missed talking to you but i know life is hard and i don't take it personally when people take breaks/walk away from tumblr or i just don't hear from them for a bit!

i do hope things are looking up for you or will soon, if not now then definitely in the new year, bc you deserve good things!! 💜 and you are always welcome to say hi to me no matter how long it's been 🥺

oh god 😭 chapter 10 was so so much i know.... all the emotions and flaws and failures to communicate. so much humanity and MESS between these two. at least we have jk 🫠 who is single but i think you have an entire army of baby star candy stans to fight for his love 🤣

you are so so correct about both yoongi and reader. she absolutely called him tf out when she said he was scared. and i love that you pointed out he isn't just gaslighting her but also himself - that's soooo real. he thinks if he can just shove it down, push her away, and get back to work, the way he's feeling will dissipate.... 👀 guess we'll have to see how that plan goes lmao

i'm so glad you're enjoying the story and that you feel it's natural!! i loved putting in that little end moment even though it's obviously VERY sad... as a lover of tv shows/books and the many tropes that come with them, i have sadly had that moment far too many times myself. it can be so crushing when the imagined scenarios in your head don't come true 🥺 but she's off to start a new life.... and we have to see how it all wraps up!! 💜

ugh it makes me so so happy that you reached out, and that you're still enjoying this series!! i really wanna hear more about your life and how things are going - i'm pretty sure you have me on discord so pls don't hesitate to message anytime!!!

wishing nothing but the best for you in 2023 and beyond, and i'm manifesting that shit, so you know it'll come true 😉✨💜

#anonymous #mbox 📮#fic review #look down on me like that #LDOMLT spoilers #queue what you want ㄱ -ㅅ-ㄱ

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handsomethrowrug · 2 months ago

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4, 10, 12

Questions for the Mun! ( @musemelodies )

10. what genre do you most enjoy, whether in roleplay, or fiction as a whole? (fantasy, period, superhero, etc.)

In RP, I've mainly written in a somewhat ordinary slice-of-life with a hint of fantasty/sci-fi in recent times. The main fandom I've been in aside from here isn't overly active, so there wasn't huge potential for me personally to work on stuff (also being busy never helped). I do enjoy fantasy settings, like royal AUs... But in a slightly ironic sense, I'm not actually interested in things like D.nD.

I think I like it because it opens up the possibility of virtually anything. Truthfully, I have tried making AU verses to interact with others, especially on other blogs... Let's just say that I put a lot of thinking effort in for writing partners who actually didn't care because they got their "aw yeah I got someone into this" boost before jumping to something else entirely and never actually... doing anything? I used to know some very impulsive people. (thankfully, I stopped writing with those people a long time ago and cut ties with them completely for other reasons)

12. what roleplay trends do you remember from the year you started tumblr rp? how did you feel about those trends?

Yeesh, that's going pretty far back. When I started, private group rps on t.umblr were on the go, and they ran pretty well. The main one I was in stuck together for a good four or five years, and even though none of us write together anymore nowadays, we've still got our little d.iscord group where we sometimes chat. It's really nice. But the big difference was that even though there were still ads and the "we want these characters!" posts... People in the groups were reblogging the ads to try and promote it too. It wasn't just a constant onslaught in certain tags.

On a less nostalgic note.... Finding art/ a gif set of your character and either responding IC or roleplaying in the reblogs. That used to be more common and I'm mortified that I took part once (that I remember).

4. which muse of yours is your all time favorite? if you stopped writing them: why?

Okay. Anyone who has known me for a long time knows I'm a notoriously picky mun. If I take on a muse, I'm taking them on for a long time. They're getting overthought headcanons! They're getting a whole-ass backstory. I spent a YEAR writing out a backstory for one of my muses in two parts. I swear I am not exaggerating when I say it was over 30 pages on g.oogle d.ocs.

This is because I'm personally not a fan of "I watched/played this thing, therefore I must take on this character that I liked". It doesn't work for me when it comes to writing inspiration. I prefer to go with what I call a 'three day rule'. If the urge to write the character lasts for at least three days (up to a week), I take the plunge. The last fully brand new character I took on was... End of April, 2023. Once they're on my roster, they're usually there for good Even if my inspiration moves, the potential is nearly always there. I mean, look at this blog! It was set up in 2017 and I disappeared for a few years!

However, I will be honest and say that Scar isn't my favourite character to write. Don't get me wrong, I love him and I'm hoping to push myself more with him, but there are others that are more in my 'comfort zone', so to speak, and that I've written longer/more consistently. Scar is still a challenge for me, at times.

I'm flip-flopping between a few, but I think the honour has to goes to Y.ancy.

He's from 'A H.eist with M.arkiplier', and one of the only characters I broke my own golden rule for. I wanted to take him on as a muse the day the production came out back in 2019 (all available for free on Y.outube :D ), and I would have if I hadn't been out of town to visit a friend that same day.

... oh my god I'm writing him five years at the end of the month.

For those who don't know, I suppose the easiest comparison of his personality is sorta, but not really, along a similar track of a certain C.entipede, even down to the accent (except my guy isn't actually from the area). Y.ancy is a tough greaser, and a convicted murderer (oh yeah, he's an incarcerated person), but he's also a loyal friend. He's got a small group of trusted friends, and he's absolutely no longer the man he was when he committed his crimes. He's hesitant to apply for parole because he's been chewed up and spat out by the real world. He needs to see the changes that have happened out there. (Though I do have a post-parole setting where he's adjusting to the normal world)

Oh. And you are literally introduced to him by a musical number. That's not a joke.

Admittedly, I've wanted to do some sort of crossover setting with him, but it's a fandom that was slightly taboo for the longest time (he's a fictional character but it's juuuust to the side of Y.outube R.PF). I did find an animated FC for him but... I wasn't sure, you know?

I'm already going on a ramble so I'll cut it off here. Y.ancy's a lot of fun because he's the ideal target for being the normal guy in a weird scenario.

Honourable mentions go to W.ilford W.arfstache (cartoonish at times, yet can do a 180 and hit with feels) and J.ack S.kellington (my actual longest muse, tbh. I took a break for other reasons and never really got back into the swing of things over there.) I'm literally restricting myself here because I will list off every muse that is either active or dormant.

#the caretaker peeks in (ooc)#(thank you for the ask and for accidentally allowing me to ramble under the read-more!)

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shinaus · 3 years ago

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(oh my god, not best girl showing up months after i reactivated? hi! toshi anon here. firstly, i'm so happy to see you posting again! you've been sorely missed on my dash. second, i'm really, really sorry for disappearing. i was [and still am in a way] dealing with personal stuff, which led me to quitting tumblr altogether for a long while. when i came back you were already gone and i was like...well, shoot. i was freaked out at first thinking something happened to you, and disappointed that i didn't say a proper goodbye like i should have. have you been in good health? are the pets alright?

unfortunately, i've quit the bnha fandom some months ago. while i still adore shinsou, i got burnt out of the manga and the fandom overall. i can't promise to start writing letters again, and i'm really sorry for that. but i want you to know it was a pleasure to hopefully bring a little joy to your day. not once did i exaggerate how amazing you are, in character or not. if i were to go back to when i first wrote you, i would do it all over again because i couldn't have asked for a better muse. i hope life has been treating you as you deserve, that is to say the best. much love, keep shining bright) - toshi anon ❤

putting a read more so that i can get in my feelings don't let my comeback think you can perceive me rn

but hi!!! oh my god!!!

honestly i'm so sorry that i wasn't able to reach out to you when i was leaving, that was highkey something i regret not initially doing since you were (and still are) such a big part of my blog and made things so much fun for me — and i missed you a lot!

i completely understand with you going through things and there's no need to apologise at all, i above all else would want you to prioritise and look after yourself first. not only that but i hope taking some time away was something that helped, i can certainly relate in that aspect.

i've been alright! things have been hectic these last few months so a break was certainly needed, not to mention i'm getting over covid which i ended up catching after two years lmao. although, i did miss having a space like this to come back to and checking in with you. how have you been? i hope that work has been alright and the sweet pets you have at home have been behaving well hehe!

in all honesty, i've really not been keeping up with the fandom either other than the odd spoiler so i get where you're coming from — if i can keep this blog up like i want to it'll certainly be more mixed with my interests to keep it fun. whether or not we did continue it, you've still given me a million fun memories to look back on. but that doesn't take away from the fact you were a genuine light to my day whenever i heard from you, in character or not. i feel like i never said enough how much i appreciate you and i couldn't have asked for a better anon to spend time chatting away with. thank you for everything, you know if i could go back to do it again i wouldn't hesitate since you made every moment of it so great. i'm sending you all my love as always, as my beloved toshi anon and my toshi hehe 🤍

(& if it's okay with you/you're comfortable with it i'd love to have your @ if i don't follow you already — just to keep up with you if we both end up sticking around some more 🥺)

#.✉️#time for me to start crying #seriously though you have a place in this lil heart forever #the hitoshi anon era my beloved

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09yards · 5 years ago

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8 - When You’re Gone (days gone by - nct)

All the mystery and the magic You light up what once was tragic And I know that I will miss you when you're gone I could never have imagined All the heavens pour with passion But I know that I will miss you when you're gone

Johnny had been right about one thing tonight; it was indeed a family affair. What felt like just about everyone Mark was close to, was dispersed throughout Yuta's house. The parents had all congregated in the kitchen, about five too many bottles of wine left empty on the side for the number of people - the chatter and laughter rang in Mark's ears.

God, he hated being drunk. The smallest of sounds seemed to echo in his ears but at the same time it felt like he was hearing things underwater, his head was spinning and he was about six too many drinks in and he'd barely been there two hours. The air around him feels thick, muggy from too many people being crowded into the various rooms.

Jisung had somehow managed to get out of the whole ordeal, arguing with their mum about how it would be inappropriate for someone who is (even more so than the others) underage to be surrounded by drunk people and the possibility of him therefore partaking in said underage drinking would be increased and that's not good for his health. Johnny had called him a pussy under his breath and had promptly earned a slap to his stomach from their mum and a stern "watch your language John" who then turned to Jisung (whose face was now adorning the slight pout and puppy dog eyed look - aka how to get their mum to do whatever they wanted look), her face relaxing into a gentle smile before kissing the top of his head (on her tiptoes which made her pout) and telling him to rest well and not stay up too late studying or engrossed in whatever novel he was currently working his way through. Mark stuck his tongue out on the way out the door - the kid could get away with everything, he and Johnny had dubbed it the youngest child effect. Johnny was pretty upset that he'd wasted good chocolate milk and now Yuta was going to get to drink it.

Mark had been dancing around since he'd first arrived, back and forth between rooms in hopes of avoiding Donghyuck. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to avoid him, the younger was probably doing the exact same thing though since the lack of communication between the two since way back to Mark's birthday. Mark had spent some time pining and was okay about the whole situation now (as okay as he could be on the surface anyhow). Mark had been so busy with school - even with only being a month and a half in - he'd been spending lunches in the library, study periods with his tutor to talk about his personal statement and what felt like every second of his free time was spent pouring over his textbooks, homework and whatever else he could get his hands on. The only breath of fresh air was when he finally submitted his uni applications, nudging the whole ordeal to the back of his mind rather than playing the waiting game to see if he'd get accepted or not. He'd drifted apart from everyone in a sense but with Donghyuck it was weird. When he passed the others in the hallways, they'd spare a second to flash a smile or give a quick wave, things were normal, but with Donghyuck it felt like he purposefully averted his eyes every time, maybe Mark's mind was playing tricks on him, maybe it wasn't.

Renjun had ranted to him over facetime at three am one night about how Donghyuck seemed to squash any and all rumours quite quickly about whether or not he was gay, Heejin and him had made up somehow apparently and Renjun had seen the two of them spending time together - what for, Mark didn't know, nor did he want to. Renjun had said it was probably some sort of ploy due to Hyuck's parents. They all knew the story and they weren't the worst, but when Hyuck's older brother, Taeyong, had come out they just seemed to ignore it - they pretended like it hadn't happened and they never brought up dating around Taeyong ever again until Taeyong had gotten quite sick of it and had decided to bring his boyfriend (although he hadn't introduced him as his boyfriend, it was quite clear by the two's body language that Taeil very much was) to their annual family Christmas party. Not his proudest moment he has admitted on multiple occasions but, to Mark and the others it was quite the scandal, particularly as lovely as Donghyuck's parents were, they just seemed to not realise the number of people around them that were gay, much to the amusement of the majority of their friends. Just about everyone was gay, bisexual or pan between Mark and Johnny's friends, as well as a copious amount of people attending their school alone were part of the LGBTQ+ community and openly expressed their support of it and how the Lee's were yet to realise it no one would ever know, as well as how they've managed to live in their surprisingly accepting small town where political and social 'issues' weren't taboo. Taeyong had moved out the moment he was accepted into uni and promised that he wouldn't end their relationship for the sake of Hyuck, even if it meant the only time he spoke to his parents these days was when 'required' to at family events and the occasional birthday phone call. Mark and Donghyuck had grown distant over the last two months and Mark couldn't help but feel like it was to do with the rumours. Mark knew Donghyuck's parents wouldn't be happy about him being gay, if he was (Mark was still confused as to whether or not he'd come out to him that day) they would just pretend like it wasn't happening, make up a girl that he was supposedly dating to rely it to the family - it had happened before and it would more than likely happen again. But alas, Mark was far too drunk for him to be able to work up the emotional capacity to act like the best friend, if he could even call himself that anymore, he should be too Donghyuck.

- - - -

"Jaehyun, please stop, I'm too drunk for this-"

"Being drunk is the perfect time young padawan! As the expert on all thing’s soulmates, please remember I have known mine since I was a mere five years of age, I am the most qualified to educate you here."

"You're probably more drunk than I am right now-"

"I probably am, okay, I definitely am but, doesn't stop me from being happy and in love and married to the best person in the world."

"You aren't married?"

"That's what you think."

"Jaehyun, what on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because I may not be legally married, yet, that doesn't mean I won't be anytime soon. I just need to pick a ring and then ask him but it's not like he's going to say no right? Having a soulmate, you are bound to that person for the rest of your life, that's the whole idea of marriage, is it not? Oh look, there's Doyoung, see you later Mark!" Mark was flabbergasted, apparently Jaehyun had turned into some kind of Tumblr drabble reciting robot when drunk off the dubious substance in his cup, although if you asked him he'd probably just say it's what happens when you're in love and then flash you the famous Jung smile - dimpled and gummy.

"Wait!" Even when he raised his voice himself it made his head pound, "You didn't give me your advice?"

"Oh yeah," Jaehyun could barely stand straight, gently swaying as he paused in his steps half turned to Mark, “Just confess already. The pining isn't doing you any good and there's no other way to find out if he's your soulmate or not unless he tells you he's the one who caused your tattoo. Right now, you're only hurting yourself, stop feeling guilty all the time and be a little selfish for once, not that telling someone how you feel is selfish. You'll only make yourself sick, literally, either way and yes it could end up worst case scenario but you could also end up happy. You deserve to be happy Mark, you've spent so long doing things for everyone else because you felt like you had to, do something for yourself." Mark let his weight sink to the floor, his back pressed against the cold wall of the hallway.

Maybe it's what he needed to be able to let go?

"Mark, hey," Jungwoo turned the corner, finding Mark still cuddled up against the wall where Jaehyun had left him earlier, "I was looking for you, you disappeared on everyone."

"Jungwoo... I want to apologise again about what happened at my birthday. I was drunk, wasn't thinking straight. What I did was wrong, so wrong and I'm so sorry for it and for upsetting you and-"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm okay? Taeyong introduced me to this older friend of his anyway, very cute, very mature so no risk of him doing any classic teenage pining. Besides, neither of us were exactly thinking straight Mark. You and Haechannie will figure things out soon enough."

"Jaehyun told me to confess, that's why I'm here, debating whether that would be easier than yeeting myself off a cliff." Mark couldn't look at Jungwoo, he still felt guilty, sure they'd both been drunk and neither were exactly hoping to start anything in the future but it felt sucky, Mark never wanted to hurt someone else and in that moment he did, whether Jungwoo was okay now or not.

"Maybe you should, get everything out in the open rather than keeping all those emotions bottled up. You never know, maybe good things will come from it."

"Thank you, Woo, I know what I did was super shitty and I really hope you know how sorry I am."

"Shut up Mark, it never happened."

"Right, it never happened."

For the first time in a while, an actual smile threatened to appear on Mark's face. "Come on, lets re-join the party! Winwin got everyone dancing, even Johnny," Jungwoo grabbed his hand to pull him up from the floor, "let’s have some fun."

As Jungwoo and Mark joined the makeshift dance floor of Yuta's living room, more drinks were pushed into their hands as their friends whooped and cheered that they were back, all far too drunk to remember any of their actions come morning. Jaehyun and Doyoung were cooped up in a corner, speaking in hushed voices to one another, both of their eyes filled with complete adoration for one another. Lucas was twirling Yuqi, the two of them bursting into fits of giggles whenever they made eye contact, it was endearing, Mark thought. Yuta and Winwin seemed to no longer be hiding their relationship status when Sicheng was not-so-subtle, sitting on Yuta's lap, the two leaning in for an R-rated kiss that Mark swiftly looked away from. Jaemin's head was resting on Renjun's thigh as they sat down on the sofa, evidently Jaemin had drunk more than he could handle and Renjun's hands gently cascaded through the younger's hair. Mark liked seeing his friends together, it made him realise just what having one’s soulmate can do, how it can make you feel. But he couldn't help the pang in his chest at the thought, he was alone, his eyes somehow having found Donghyuck among the copious amounts of people dancing. Mark couldn't take his eyes off of him, he gravitated towards him, dancing with some girls from his class who dragged Mark to join them - pushing him towards Donghyuck.

The younger's head snapped up at the mention of Mark's name, no longer focused on perfecting the choreography to whatever song was playing with Yeri and Irene. Before Donghyuck could escape, Mark clasped his wrist, looking at him with pleading eyes. Now or never, now or never.

Donghyuck freed himself, flashing Mark a disgusted look before walking out of the room as fast as he could without drawing attention to them, Mark close behind.

"Hyuck, wait up please!"

"Leave me alone Mark."

"Come on Hyuck, at least let me speak," Mark's shoulders slumped as he let out a deep sigh, attempting to build up his courage, now or never. "J-just let me say this and then you can scream, yell, runaway or whatever it is you want to do," Donghyuck's resistance against Mark pulling his arm again relaxed, "just, please let me speak."

"Fine. What do you so desperately have to say?" His voice was wobbly, Donghyuck was telling himself that it was because of the cold October air and not his emotions getting the better of him. Donghyuck doesn’t even remember at what point they’d made it outside – nor does he see the audience of one they’ve gathered.

"Okay, right, here we go."

"I don't have all night Mark."

"Right, sorry. Of course, I just need a second." Was the air getting thicker or was Mark just having trouble breathing?

"Here goes nothing," Mark took one last deep breath and closed his eyes, he had this speech engraved in his mind ready to use it at any moment, "I like you Hyuck. I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you and I'm also fairly certain that you're my soulmate.

I know that we're young and I'm definitely dumb and you aren't even eighteen yet but, I know that I'm in love with you and I trust that the universe made us meet that day in the library because you are my soulmate. I can't imagine my life without you, I can't imagine waking up next to anyone else. I can't imagine kissing someone else, holding someone else in my arms, running my hands through their hair, listening to them hum along to the radio. It's always you, in my daydreams and my nightmares, whether I'm asleep or awake you're always by my side.

Believe me when I say I tried to stop, I tried to convince myself that you're not the one. I spent so long crying myself to sleep, begging the universe to let me stop loving you, I tried, I really, really tried... but, I'm always going to love you. I think I've known that since the day we first met and I need you to know that, I'm always going to love you. No matter what. I've imagined me saying this to you hundreds of thousands of times and I was never going to say anything but I can't keep doing this. I can't fake another smile, I can't fake like everything’s alright all of the time, I can't fake that I'm alright. I love you Donghyuck."

"Mark," Donghyuck inhaled sharply, "I don't know what you want me to say..."

"Say you feel the same, say you can feel your soulmate mark showing up, whatever," the pleading in Mark's words was clear by his breathlessness, "Hyuckie, please, I know you can feel it too."

"I'm sorry Mark, I really am," his shoulders slumped and he couldn't meet Mark's eyes, Mark's pleading gaze, "I'm so sorry. I can't do this. I don't feel the same, I'm not in love with you Mark. You're hurting someone else by doing this, please get over me and stop - I know you won't be able to handle the guilt. I can't let you hurt someone else, I can't hurt you by lying like that. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

And with that he turned away, leaving Mark behind, hiccupping in attempts to breathe while he sobbed uncontrollably. A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling Mark into a warm chest, a gentle hand patting his head and muttering "it's okay" over and over again.

Mark had never felt more sober than he did in that moment. Dizziness overtook him, the walls if the hallway felt like they were closing in around him, getting closer and closer, suffocating him. He sobbed and sobbed until he didn't have a single tear left to cry, his body spasming as he tried to catch his breath, hiccupping into the comfort of Johnny's arms.

Mark had never wanted to get drunk more in his life.

- - - - -

Donghyuck is peacefully absorbed in his history textbook when his attention is snapped away from medieval medical treatments and to Jaemin quite literally plonking himself in the chair over the other side of the table to Donghyuck, letting out an exasperated sigh as he does so, backpack discarded on the floor by his feet as his eyes meet Donghyuck's - they're inquisitive and Donghyuck feels himself shrink in on himself a little, out of apprehension, fear or embarrassment, Donghyuck isn't sure.

"What happened with you and Mark?"

There was a slight bite to Jaemin's voice, no traces of any gentleness or subtly. Jaemin wasn't for softness when it came to life generally, particularly when someone’s upset, he approaches situations with the grace of a herd of elephants.

"Nothing."

Jaemin tuts, rolls his eyes and lets out a deep sigh, clearly not satisfied with Donghyuck's answer - or rather lack thereof.

"Oh, that’s not what I heard?"

Donghyuck can't tell if Jaemin drew the short straw and is the one tasked with interrogating him over the events of the weekend or if he's genuinely doing it for himself. Maybe Mark is keeping quiet about the events of that night, however even with how good the two are at avoiding one another it is clear Mark hasn't been in school the last few days, they aren't that good at not having crossed paths remotely once. Donghyuck couldn't help the pang of guilt. Donghyuck also knows that Jaemin isn't giving up, he's tapping his fingers against the desk as if he's hoping that'll prompt Donghyuck to talk. Jaemin is nonchalant about most things in life (aside from anything Renjun related), yet he doesn't back down and is evidently undaunted when it comes to getting what he wants.

"Well, nothing happened."

"Bullshit." Jaemin counters, without missing a beat.

Donghyuck is taken back by the harshness of his voice. Honestly, Donghyuck thought they would drag this out for longer, more like he was hoping he could keep up his charade of 'nothing happened' for longer, staying in his little bubble where he could pretend like everything was okay - like that night hadn't happened and he hadn't broken his best friends heart. Jaemin was the type to bug you to just the right level of being ridiculously annoying to get what he wanted out of you - driving you to insanity bit by bit was more his style unlike the current look of utter despair lacing his usually kind features.

"That's utter bullshit and you know it. Whatever fantasy charade you're keeping up by pretending everything’s okay is ending right now. You keep sighing in lessons, I can practically feel the anguish radiating off of you from the other side of town and here you are straight up lying to my face and just about everyone else, including yourself."

"Why do you care so much?" Hyuck didn't mean to sound so cold, it was just a second-nature defence mechanism at this point as well as being caught off-guard by Jaemin's sudden outburst.

Jaemin looks at him again, staring dead into Hyuck's eyes like he's searching for Donghyuck's last remaining brain cell, jokes on him though because it's not there. "Because Haechannie, I actually care about you and want to make sure you're okay as well as Mark. The tension between you two is downright depressing and I thought all the melodrama ended when Renjun and I got together but clearly, I was wrong, the two of you are so much worse. Both with permanent pouts on their faces, avoiding talking about whatever happened so no one can do anything to help which again, is just," Jaemin let out some disgruntled sound in lieu of an adjective but laced with the same disgust he was attempting to convey, "you see? Everyone has been here before, we're not all Jaehyun and Doyoung, you're more like Johnny and Ten and the utter mess that was the start of their best-friends-to-boyfriends transition. We all care about you; we all want to make sure that you're coping and not making yourself sick." Jaemin's now looking at him with one eyebrow raised as if Donghyuck's now supposed to magically understand whatever Jaemin's word vomit was actually implying.

Donghyuck lets his eyes wander over Jaemin's appearance, his hand griping his hair in anticipation of Hyuck's reply, pupils blown, wide and gazing at Donghyuck's face for any hint of emotion, looking slightly manic. Donghyuck evaluates his current position and with a deep breath he feels calmer, his muscles have relaxed, a smirk graces his face and-

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask, how are Johnny and Ten?"

6 NEW MESSAGES FROM RENJUN

I don't know what you did but you broke Jaemin

I've been trying to get him to shut up for years and you did it in less than half an hour

teach me your ways

he hasn't said anything since he got back, he's just sat there staring out the window with his mouth hanging open

Jisung and Chenle are seeing how many blueberries they can get in his mouth until he snaps out of it

they're up to nine

let me know how many they get up too

and tell Jaemin I'm sorry and that I'll

talk when I'm ready.

Donghyuck smiles, its only small but it’s his first genuine smile in a while.

- - - - -

The rain is bouncing off the ground as he walks home, splashing his ankles and soaking the ends of his jeans. The temperature seems to have dropped by a million degrees since this morning and he's wishing he checked the weather app and put a warmer coat on. He's at the point where the harsh October air feels like it’s getting in his bones, just about every inch of him is freezing and just when he thinks things can't get any worse, as he turns the corner to his house he's met by a tall figure sat on the steps leading up to his door.

The rain is the last thing on his mind as he lets his umbrella drop to his side, tilting his head as if that would help him get a better look at the boy that's slouched over, flicking his phone between his hands.

Upon hearing Donghyuck let out a pathetic attempt at a cough in hopes of gaining the others attention, the mop of blonde hair moves until Hyuck is met with a heart-warming, lopsided smile he could recognise anywhere.

"Hey, Haechannie."

"Hello, what can I help you with?"

"I think you know why I'm here."

#cznnent #nct #markhyuck #nct fic #markhyuck fic #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct mark #dojae #nct donghyuck #johnten #luqi #renmin #yuwin

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