#I’m on a biyoo high

[dietmimo]

GAHAHAHAAHHAAHHAHAHAA

BEHOLD THE POWER OF HAVING MY OWN THERMAL PRINTER MUWAHAHAHAHA

ENDLESS BIYOO STICKERS AT MY DISPOSAL MUWAHAHAHAHAHA

[lizhly-writes]

so i was dithering about trying to figure out what to do for an orv fic today and then, like a lightning bolt of inspiration, i saw this post and decided sure.  why not.  Let’s continue the bihyung-kdj coparenting au.  further inspiration from @mytoomanybookstoread‘s tags which i took some liberties with, but are:

#For extra fun dies combine it w some of those kdj and yjh knew eo in high school very briefly#And you get an intensely consumed yjh who tracked down kdj years later only to find him w a 10yo and is squinting at the Situation so hard

Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t really remember much about high school.  He doesn’t particularly want to remember very much about high school.  Still, there are some things that stick in his mind.  Cheap cafeteria food, playing games underneath his desk and hoping his teacher wouldn’t catch him, voices he couldn’t care less jabbering at him and blending into so much white noise, one voice in particular that didn’t –

“Stop telling me what to buy, I can feed myself.  I did it without you for years, don’t you have any faith in me by now?”

Yoo Joonghyuk really thinks he’s hallucinating when he hears that one voice in the middle of the produce section on his weekly grocery run.  

“What’s with that look on your face.  It’s like you don’t trust me.  Bihyung, you know a healthy parenting relationship needs to be built on –”

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, mouth moving before he can even think of doing anything else.

Kim Dokja – could it be anyone else? – looks up from an argument he appears to be losing.  “Sorry, do I know you?” he says, polite smile automatically stretching across his face, and then, “...Yoo Joonghyuk?”

Kim Dokja looks… better than he did in high school.  He doesn’t have that adolescent gangliness anymore; doesn’t have the bruises, the bandages, that sallow look to his skin.  There’s a faint darkness under his eyes that speaks of the fact that he could be sleeping more, but overall, he looks… healthier.  Like he’s improved his lot in life.  Like he’s doing well.

Instead of saying any of this, Yoo Joonghyuk says, “You have a child.”

This is less of a non-sequitur than it should be, because Kim Dokja has a hand resting loosely, absentmindedly, in the hair of a little girl clinging to his leg.  She looks up at Yoo Joonghyuk with big dark eyes that look unsettlingly similar to the man she’s currently attached to.    

“Yes, I see you’re as observant as ever, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja says, which doesn’t explain anything at all.  “This is Biyoo,” he adds, which helps less than he seems to think it does.

“Kim Dokja, who is this,” says the man who Kim Dokja was arguing with.  He’s holding a cabbage like he thinks he can do serious damage with it and is contemplating whether he should aim for Kim Dokja or Yoo Joonghyuk first.

“Oh, that’s Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja says, and then to Yoo Joonghyuk, he says, “This is Bihyung.”  

From the look on Bihyung’s face, he’s finding this introduction about as helpful as Yoo Joonghyuk is, which is to say, not at all.  “Really?” 

“What?” says Kim Dokja.

“You have a child?” Yoo Joonghyuk repeats, because the longer he looks at the little girl the more distressingly similar to Kim Dokja she appears and the obvious conclusion is not one that he’s readily capable of believing.

“I feel like I should be offended here,” Kim Dokja says.  “Is there something wrong with me having a child?”

“Is she a relative.”

Kim Dokja sighs, sounding faintly pained.  “Technically correct, I suppose.”

“In the sense that she’s related to him because she’s his daughter,” Bihyung says.

“Who are you,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, because the name ‘Bihyung’ doesn’t tell him anything at all about who Bihyung actually is and why Kim Dokja knows him.

Bihyung quirks a brow up.  “I’m the other parent,” he says dryly.  “Who are you?”

“High school classmate,” Yoo Joonghyuk says automatically.  “You’re married?”

In perfect unison, Kim Dokja and Bihyung take on matching faces of distaste.

“Absolutely not,” Bihyung says.

“Right, Bihyung’s just the other parent.  We’re ex-roommates.”

This is raising more questions than answers. 

[ksalientian]

25. [orv] joongdok

'yjh is a dakimakura'. text version of my twitter post.

.

I have a weird question, Dokja wrote, on his Twitter account that had eleven followers (two of which were bots). Do you think ghosts exist?

No one replied to him, of course, because Dokja's online acquaintances weren't interested in things other than the popular webnovels, but he hadn't expected it anyway. He wasn't even sure if he was imagining things. It was only— well, it really might have been his paranoia. Dokja looked around, made eye contact with the thing lying innocently on his bed, flushed, and looked away again. No, Dokja didn't think he was being paranoid.

He opened up a Q&A forum to ask the same question, hesitating when he was prompted to add more detail. I made a body pillow, he typed, slowly. I commissioned the art and only made one of it so I'm the only one who has one, it's not from a maker. He didn't add that it was a picture of a man on the cover, nor that it was a fictional man whom he sometimes felt like he'd been in love with for half his life. Long story short, it feels like it's watching me.

Supernatural questions were fairly popular on this forum, and before long the answers were filled up with people heckling him for being dirty and asking if he liked 'that sort of thing'. He scrolled past these answers with mild embarrassment.

"Joonghyuk-ah, you're making people think I'm a pervert," he said, absently. 

Then he closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. He'd meant to stop talking to the pillow, but he just couldn't seem to break the habit. Dokja had always talked to himself like he was talking to Yoo Joonghyuk before, and the addition of a life-size pillow with an almost-perfect recreation (because nothing really lived up to the Yoo Joonghyuk in his imagination) had just made this habit exponentially worse.

To be fair, it wasn't that the pillow responded to his talking. In fact, the pillow didn't respond to anything he did.

Honestly, Dokja thought, turning to look at the pillow again. What has it really done? Nothing, that's what. It was just Dokja inexplicably sensing the constant weight of someone's regard, feeling like the pillow's eyes were watching his every move. He glanced back at his phone and saw that the answers on the forum were heading in an irrevocably age-restricted direction, sighed again, and decided to just give up. If his pillow was haunted, just let it be haunted. What could a pillow do to him, anyway.

——

Joonghyuk hadn't meant to do it.

Really, he hadn't. 

He had been doing so well in all his world-jumps, avoiding even the thought of looking for traces of Kim Dokja. Down that path lay no good things whether for him or Biyoo. He stayed just long enough to make sure the story was being published, then he left, nice and simple.

Until… this.

Being a pillow was very stressful. He couldn't speak or move or do anything, really, for fear that Dokja would notice him and the situation would spiral out of control. The fact that Biyoo was somewhere else fixing the Ark made it even worse— he had nothing to fill his time when Dokja was away, because even if he did move, his movements were limited to that of a pillow. He couldn't open the door, or the window, and in any case leaving meant someone might see him, which was what he had to avoid in the first place. 

Joonghyuk cursed whatever metaphysical whim that had decided to allow a Ways of Survival clone in this world, and then cursed the Kim Dokja in this world along with it. He was, somehow, certain that it was all because of Dokja's ridiculous custom body pillow. The picture on the thing didn't even look like him; it was far too clean and unmarred. And less good-looking, not that Joonghyuk cared about that sort of thing.

Having cursed his fill, Joonghyuk returned grouchily to his only pastime, which was observing Kim Dokja.

This Kim Dokja was different from the one that was his companion. Younger, of course, still a kid fresh out of high school who hadn't even been to the military yet. But he was also a little less… hardened. Less hurt. Joonghyuk remembered the days he'd been here, how Dokja relaxed and smiled when he thought he was alone and felt like his own Dokja wouldn't be like this even if he was nineteen too. His Dokja must have been a shifty bastard since he was in the cradle.

If he started categorising all the ways they were different, there would be no end to it. Sometimes Joonghyuk thought he might have built up the Kim Dokja in his head so much that when (if) Kim Dokja actually came back, he would be disappointed.

Just then, this world's Kim Dokja laughed at something on his phone.

Joonghyuk watched the way his whole face softened, how he leaned back in his chair and opened his mouth wide and didn't put his hand over it like he was embarrassed. Watched a little less calmly as Dokja eeled off the chair and came to flop on the bed right next to him.

"Joonghyuk-ah," said Dokja, face a little flushed and eyes shining. It was depressingly attractive. "You're so cute!"

Dokja began to tell Joonghyuk about the antics of fake-Joonghyuk in this world's Ways of Survival. Fake-Joonghyuk had apparently jumped in a lake and fished out all the marine life in it because Mia had wanted to eat fish, which— Joonghyuk wasn't going to say he hadn't done that before, but it hadn't been fun and it most certainly hadn't been cute. But he listened to Dokja's spirited retelling anyway, because what else could he do?

Soon, Dokja's bright voice faded away. "It would be nice if I was that brave," Dokja said, softly enough that Joonghyuk almost missed it. He didn't hug Joonghyuk, but he put his back against Joonghyuk's pillow form and leaned against him.

You are so brave, Joonghyuk wanted to say. You are brave enough that you still want to live, despite everything, despite the universe.

But that wasn't this Kim Dokja. Joonghyuk's Dokja was still scattered, waiting for Joonghyuk to bring him home. This Dokja was not yet in such dire straits.

You can be brave, Joonghyuk thought instead. 

Very carefully, he curved the pillow that was his body closer to Dokja's. Dokja stiffened. Joonghyuk pressed himself against Dokja's back anyway, suddenly glad that he was a pillow in this world (there was no way he could do this as a human). He knew Dokja had some suspicions about him. But if it meant a kid could take some comfort from it, he was alright with being discovered. Biyoo would fix it. Probably.

"Are you… a ghost?" Dokja asked, in a trembling little voice.

Joonghyuk couldn't answer.

The room was quiet for a long time, and then Dokja hesitantly reached a hand behind him to touch the pillow. Joonghyuk noted that his fingers rested coincidentally on fake-Joonghyuk's chest.

"Thank you," whispered Dokja, and said no more.