#also i added a couple question bc i was tagged in two different get to know mes and i merged them together

[tracybirds]

Remember my TAG Sims 4 save that I’m building? Well it’s well time for an update on where I’m at! I’m having great fun populating the worlds with characters and various people’s OCs* and thought I’d show off how they’re going! I’m focusing on CAS (Create A Sim) rather than building in this save and trying to create a full world of sims! Also note that I’m planning on the gameplay beginning with a teenage Jeff, so no main characters for now. I play with aging off and age them all manually so the other characters will just stay the same age until I’m ready to interact with them.

I’ve finished three worlds; Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, and Sulani. Working on Newcrest and Henford-on-Bagley next! Today I'll show off the characters made in Willow Creek :)

*I’m only showing the TAG characters and the OCs I have made for them today, not OCs made by other people... mostly because I'm not done!! Also if you're interested in my making your Thuderbirds OCs, let me know! I have a lot of households to fill lol and they'll just hang out in the background of the game :D

Notable changes: I moved the park to the Oakenstead lot, added a second park (in Foundry Cove) and a skate park. I changed the museum into a botanical library and placed a community garden next to it. There is now an early childhood education centre and a hospital that can be visited, and I placed a gym and a museum. I did not make any of the builds, they’re all found on the gallery and then tweaked.

There are twelve households in Willow Creek, including an apartment with four families. The only townies I care about are the Goths so they’ll end up being the only non TAG characters. I found a renovated Goth Mansion and a Goth family revamped to look closer to their Sims 2 counterparts on the gallery and stuck them in there :)

Sims 4 lore down, let me show off the sims!!

Sally, Grant and Jeff Tracy

In this save, Jeff has two brothers and a sister, based off of @amistrio's hc :D

Kyrano, Kayo and Tin-Tin

I decided I wanted to add in Tin-Tin and I have vague memories of reading a fic where they were sisters, so I went ahead and did it :D

Brains, Brains and Fermat Hackenbacker

I love Brains ahaha so I put him in twice :D why not after all!

The Apartment Building has four families: Ned Tedford, Tycho Reeves (and his brother David...lol), Wayne Rigby (and his daughter Eleanor... double lol, I think it was @katblu42 who suggested that name :D), and Kat Cavanaugh (who I gave a sister who lives in Oasis Springs, but I've included said sister for completeness)

Ned Tedford

I gave him lots of freckles mostly because I think they look sweet ahaha... I'm tempted to make Gladys a Plant Sim, but for now he's just going to enjoy gardening :D

Tycho and David Reeves

Come on... I had to XD David's a doctor whose aspiration in life is to solve the Strangerville mystery ahaha

Wayne and Eleanor Rigby

Yes the glasses are on purpose :D I love the idea of Rigby being a single dad and I also aged him up a little simply because he's clearly been with the GDF for a while and it made sense to me.

Kat and Sara Cavanaugh

Sara is Kat's older sister but they don't get on so they live in different worlds.

And finally, our last couple of houses are filled by...

Cass McCready, Aiden Hawkins and Theo McCready-Hawkins

Cass is obviously our favourite firefighter, and so I decided to create Aiden to be her fiance and Theo to be their kid. I always imagined Cass having two boys and to be a single mum when she met iR for the first time, so I did give Aiden a couple of less desirable traits lol... I'd like to play out their story at some point so they only have Theo to start :D

Reece and Dobbs (aka our favourite space pirates/scrappers!)

I love these guys so much, they crack me up :D They're space married, don't question me on this, and they live in a tiny home with some chickens xD I might see if I can replace their current home with one that's modelled after a spaceship bc that would be fun!

Robert and Aidan Williams

Aidan is one of my favourite kid characters in the show and I love him! So cool headed even when crisis is happening and his dad is hurt :( I thought for a long time about whether I'd add in more family but then I realised the house was only two bedrooms and then I invented a story where his mum had recently passed away and him and Gordon could have some bittersweet bonding (bc Gordon stays in touch and remembers everyone obviously!!) so I decided to leave them as they were and also the smaller the household the less likely the game is to crash lol

WillowCreek also is resident to three OC families, but they are not mine so I don't want to post about them without permission :)

Anyway I hope you enjoyed the update on this!!! Someday I'll have real gameplay to share lol, but I'm having so much fun building the world up!

[housewarningparty]

Uh, genuine question, but what should non vegans and/or non vegetarians do to be respectful of vegans and/or vegetarians?

And also, a second more specific question, i get that unless the person has actually said something, irl wise it’s generally kinda dumb weird and probably a bit rude to go out of your way to avoid any mention of meat as food in front of a vegan/vegetarian, but online, where the rules are obviously different,

would it be good practice to tag posts that are about or mention meat or other animal products being used as food? Because i imagine even if you don’t care it just might get a bit grating? Like when you keep having to hear a bout a fandom you’re apathetic about

Again, promise this isn’t mocking or anything, these are genuine questions, 🙏 i just believe that similar to religious beliefs, veganism/vegetarianism shouldn’t be mocked and instead respected

None of this is dumb or weird! I think it's nice that you're trying to be mindful.

Personally, I don't think tagging for meat or animal products or stuff like that is necessary. I feel like 99% of the fast food ads I see on billboards or commercials is more obnoxious than like someone posting a pic of their dinner and talking about how good it was.

Tbh the only content I actually see on Tumblr that bothers me In A Vegan Way falls into one of two categories.

Exploitative Animal Images: idk to me this ranges from like mildly annoying to hellish. I feel like a lot of images of animals clearly in distress or in unsafe circumstances get passed around as memes a lot here and it's genuinely kinda disturbing. I mean obviously pictures of living animals captioned with something obnoxious about the kind of food you want to turn them into is one example.

Other stuff would be like videos of wild animals in domestic settings where they don't belong (I hope I never see another pet sugar glider video in my entire fucking life tbh) or like otherwise in captivity under CLEARLY shady circumstances (those tiger farms for example). Otherwise stuff like videos of people scaring their pets bc they make funny faces or silly noises about it. A lot of this stuff is pervasive in Internet humor or like cute animal pages and it can be easy to overlook but I think it's worth being critical of thinking about the circumstances animal content is produced under. Tbh I think this is a good internet rule in general - esp when it comes to meme images of violence and stuff like that.

The other category is probably more obvious and the thing I most frequently block/unfollow people over - please don't reblog weird anti-vegan propaganda. I feel like I don't really have to worry about this from you, anon, since you're clearly approaching from a respectful place but there's been what feels like a significant uptick in anti-vegan content couched in progressive language on this site recently.

From blatant misrepresentations of what veganism means to holding vegans solely accountable for stuff everyone does and/or corporate marketing, to weirdly hateful and defensive screeds - there's a LOT of really popular bad takes going around. And some of it is truly wild and really shows how little people read a post before reblogging it - a couple years ago I saw several majorly popular blogs on Tumblr reblogging an anti-vegan post that had lines about the "occult implications" of veganism buried somewhere in the text and it nearly drove me insane. More mundane examples would be the recent rise of 'vegans love to pollute with fake leather bc they're ignorant babies' type posts. A lot of these don't even have to be outright hostile to be annoying, but they all fundamentally fail to understand what veganism is about. It's not a health movement or an environmental movement or a 'lifestyle' movement - the #1 concern of veganism is animal rights.

Not saying there aren't overlapping concerns like environmentalism that can be used in the messaging, but at the end of the day whether something is good for your health or for the planet is a secondary consideration to 'does this system harm a living being unnecessarily.'

Anyway I hope that was a helpful answer!

Thanks for reaching out! Have a good one!

[wanderersoflight]

Hello everyone! This post has been a long time coming and we didn’t really expect to get as much traction as we have, but since we’ve managed to accumulate a few curious folk, we wanted to shed some light on this little AU for some of y’all who have questions but don’t know how to ask. The goal of this post is to answer a few basic questions for folks across the fandoms we tag so that there’s a bit of clarity around what the heck we’re doing here.

So without further ado, let’s begin!

WHAT IS THE WANDERERS OF LIGHT AU?

Wanderers of Light is a crossover au between two Moomin characters and the world of Final Fantasy XIV. It is an AU started by siblings who play two of our favorite fictional siblings going through the main scenario quest (MSQ) together. There is a bit of lore as to how these two started their adventure, but essentially, we're taking Little My and Snufkin from Moomin valley and transport them to Eorzea, Narnia style.

We go through the MSQ together, while also pulling shenanigans on the side. So if you like Moomins x high fantasy adventure setting, have a soft spot for sibling adventures that sometimes get a little TOO adventurous (think saving the world, killing corrupted authority figures, fighting wars, and leading revolutions among other things), or you're a FFXIV player who likes to see what other players are doing with their downtime bc oh look! G-poses, drawings, stories aside from the msq??? If you're any of these things, we welcome your follow and added interest!!

I'M A MOOMIN FAN BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT FFXIV IS, CAN YOU EXPLAIN?

Yeah! So FFXIV is an open world mmorpg where you play as the "Warrior of Light" aka your super customizable main character that can be of any of the playable races who work under any classes of your choosing.

Already lost you? Ok so take Little My, she's a Lalafell who's a warrior class, so she's the smallest race available who swings a big froggin axe! And Snufkin's a Miqot'e bard (but started as an archer!), so he's a cat boy with a bow/arrow and an array of instruments at his disposal.

(screencap courtesy of our friend, Tristan)

Back on track, as the Warrior of Light (WoL), you start out as an adventurer with the class you've picked in character creation. Depending on how you want to play the game, you can follow the msq where you meet a cast of lovely characters with a storyline that packs some heavy punches in each arc--or as we call expansions, which our pinned posts are made to indicate where we are in the story so as to let people know not to mention spoilers. You can also play the game for completely different goals, like g-posing (essentially playing dolls with your characters and posing them for pretty pictures), pvp fights, Dungeon crawling/Raids with friends and complete strangers, home decoration, crafting up clothes, AND SO MUCH MORE! But for most things available, you have to unlock via msq, so be ready for that!

The community is full of friendly people who LOVE new players!!! Like if you enter a dungeon with a party of strangers and you tell them in the chat that you're new, they will be SO patient and supportive bc generally everyone wants you to have a good time here.

The story of the game revolves around you, the WoL, having time-traveled 5 years into the future from the original upload of the game where a great dragon, Bahamut, destroyed much of the world of Eorzea, and you--along with your friends, the Scions--are helping the land recover and rebuild after the Calamity.

I'M A FFXIV PLAYER AND I THOUGHT YOUR BLOG WAS CUTE, BUT WHAT ARE MOOMINS AND WHO ARE THESE CHARACTERS?

HI!! Welcome! So, I could go on about Moomins, in fact I don't think I could do much justice in a couple paragraphs. But for this au, I can give some brief explanations.

So if you google Moomins, you'll find these little white plump creatures that look so pleasant, right? Those are the titular moomintrolls created by the lovely Tove Jansson in her Moomin novels in the mid-1900s that have since expanded and exploded into a world-wide phenomenon. You have the books as well as the comics Tove and her brother created together, as well as multiple film/tv adaptations of the characters and stories. Some of the most well-known tv depictions are the 1990s anime and the 2010 Moominvalley, but there are also gems in the fuzzy-felt version, other stop-motion, and even live-action adaptations! The Moomin stories cover subject matters regarding love, loneliness and aloneness, family, friendship, growing up, and freedom among other things. It’s definitely something much deeper than what it seems on the surface!

Anyway, as you google the Moomin family, you’ll notice that among their cast of characters, you'll find an angry little girl in red and a polite looking fella in green:

Those are our siblings! Half siblings, actually, which is why we've given them different races because Snufkin's papa (The Joxter) is often depicted as a cat-like creature, so he mostly takes after him.

Little My is the smallest of mymbles (which is commonly believed to be her race/species type?) who is known to be the mischievous, not afraid to speak her mind, and has an honesty in her that sometimes people don’t want to hear. She's also Snufkin's older sister. Snufkin is the baby younger sibling of the two and arguably the wisest of their friends. He's well-traveled and loves his alone time, but is a friendly fellow to find on the path. Both value their independence but usually make a great team, especially when wreaking havoc together!

END NOTES

So that should be a fair introduction! If you have any questions, we welcome asks and may even draw them out if the mood suits us. But yeah, this is basically a self-indulgent au between us that we wanted to share with the communities here. Hopefully this explains why some of y’all keep seeing them in certain tags, and let us know if you’re interested in either of the content this post has enlightened you about!

[broomsticks]

PRIMMMMM 😍🤩🤩 SUPER OBSESSED WITH THIS and with your fic and with chaosblue and ok LIVE LISTENING THOUGHTS:

- awww chaosblue has such a lovely voice for reading your fic 💖 and she’s such a reassuring interviewer too!

- totally don’t doubt you used to be a big name polish fic writer and oh man, definitely wish i could understand any polish at all bc i’m so curious about different people’s writing styles in different languages!

- fanfic origin stories! love to hear em

- hahaha the question being phrased as “why is polish fandom not on ao3”, feeling like one might conversely ask the question in reverse — “why isn’t all the english fandom on wattpad?” 😆

- also yes at what we talked about, that polish fandom has more original fic and is (perhaps as a result) virtually nonexistent on FFN

- “I LOVE METAPHORS” UH YES YOU DOOOO

- “writing has always been an intuitive thing to me, there was not a lot of theory behind it” i love this! two trains of thought to ‘yes and’ this - 1) i love this about doing a creative hobby for fun. what a great opportunity to say fuck you to external metrics and pressures and ‘rules’ and get in touch with your inner voice and self and 2) i wonder whether that’s your approach to languages too? it makes me think of learning a new language in adulthood, trying to graduate from the ‘knowing the Rules’ to ‘getting the intuitive feel of it’

- yuck blech ew im sorry you guys have purity policing nonsense in polish fandom too

- oooh you DO talk about writing styles in different languages! so cool love it love it. also, your description of writing in polish feeling more ~floral~ reminded me of this (and yes @ the tags, poland / bō lán / 波兰 wave orchid is right hahaha)

- there was DRAMA there was PLOT there was MYSTERY hahaha yes! i love that! you DO know how to structure things and i DID get the sense that you were doing it intuitively—like, listening to the story and what it needs/is telling you—so i’m so glad it does actually feel that way for you!!

- the magic, how writing harry potter fic feels like coming home, ah i LOVE THAT. ❤️ it DOES have a lot of childhood nostalgia for lots of us.

- magical theory!!! stephen hawking-inspired magical theory!!! hahaha, fanfiction lives in the holes of the original canon’s worldbuilding and storytelling 😂 also v interesting to hear chaosblue’s thoughts on your physics-influenced magical theory-heavy fic, because iirc chaosblue does read HP fic but as primarily a characterization-focused (snarry??) reader?

- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! to everything you’re saying about disability and disability rep - “it was difficult and at the same time it wasn’t” !!! - “it feels like a coming out every time” !!!!!!!! it was cathartic and it was wishful thinking and it was challenging and !!! sorry i am adding nothing except unnecessary exclamation marks but AHHH i love that. all of that. so much.

- couple of my thoughts: 1) i love how you don’t just do one thing—you do multiple big things—in your stories. something i admire about all your fic and aspire to and imo definitely one of the tells that you’re a very mature fic writer hahahah (if this sounds condescending, i don’t mean to, omg 🙈) - 2) i also love the comments you received on this story. shows you certainly did what you intended to do!

- the difficulty of changing deeply ingrained beliefs, especially negative beliefs, about oneself - omg i’m weeping, this is lovely. another irreplaceable thing about fic writing for self-exploration and growth, it’s cathartic, it’s therapeutic even, it’s a space to emotionally work through things. it’s one of the most important reasons why amateur fanfic should not be policed, should be ‘restricted’ as little as possible.

- “he's very powerful, but he feels also limited by his disability” omg love this, again, the concept of ‘twice exceptional’, the concept of intersectionality. this, again, precisely nails something i love about fanfic [someday i will stop taking a point you guys briefly touch on and running away with it being like THIS IS EVERYTHINGGG I LOVE ABOUT FANFICTION but today is not the day] - you take one, unique, very niche experience and you dig into that deeply - finding value, finding universal truths from the nichest most specific of experiences! we are all different and we are all the same! we can all empathize with each other, we all have the capability to understand each other and we can all always learn from each other!

- and ofc yeah the not having it all figured out from the start. albus dumbledore is such a complicated character to even begin to explore! i feel like this is a little bit of your initial exploration of him in the supernova/goats fic paying off a little too, and i love that!

- OK IM DONE. 😍❤️ loved the drawing from personal experiences bit, hahaha, and also the emotional maturity and restraint and control involved in being able to take a step back. anyway THIS WAS SUPER COOL, THANK YOU for doing this!! (and thank you chaosblue too!!)

- “he's very powerful, but he feels also limited by his disability” omg love this, again, the concept of ‘twice exceptional’, the concept of intersectionality. this, again, precisely nails something i love about fanfic [someday i will stop taking a point you guys briefly touch on and running away with it being like THIS IS EVERYTHINGGG I LOVE ABOUT FANFICTION but today is not the day] - you take one, unique, very niche experience and you dig into that deeply - finding value, finding universal truths from the nichest most specific of experiences! we are all different and we are all the same! we can all empathize with each other, we all have the capability to understand each other and we can all always learn from each other!

The latest episode of The FanFic Maverick podcast is out! The show is available through the link above and also on Apple Podcast, Google Podcast, Spotify, and iHeartRadio.

In this episode I chat with HP fanfiction writer Prima_Vera about disability representation and her Grindledore fic “Quiet In Blue.” 

Thanks for coming on the show, @girl-with-goats!

Keep on rollin’!

Link to Quiet In Blue is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42018363/chapters/105493884

[woogurl]

(hi, it’s me again pretending as if i didn’t go on an unannounced hiatus).

yes, i’m back...for now. i’m not sure for how long. as i’m too busy these days, but i wanted to specifically make this post because it’s been bothering me for a while now. someone mentioned this in the woosan tag as well, but it’s...

non-atiny’s(and some anti-shipping atiny) who constantly feel the need to expose woosan as some cleverly put together ship that was carefully manufactured by the company. i’ve seen so many titles on youtube and posts on twitter saying how:

“woosan is obvious fanservice” and “woosan; a prime example of queerbating in kpop” 

i’ve never seen a ship be so criticized for being ‘out there’ and ‘in your face’. i’ve made a post on fanservice before but this post will mainly be focused on why i think it’s completely unfair, dishonest, homophobic, and antagonistic to view their relationship as manufactured and fake. and before you go, ‘i’m sure they’re good friends but all that other stuff is clearly done by the company.’ and don’t get me wrong, bc kq is very much aware of the ships and do try to profit off of fanservice...like every other company. but the clearest indicator of this not being MOSTLY all fanservice is something i’ve mentioned many times before.

1. the rest of the ships in ateez not being anywhere near the intimacy and skinship as woosan.

2. body language. 

3. the members THEMSELVES explaining their dynamics.

4. kq not FORCING ships.

ever since predebut and debut there’s ALWAYS been three main ships in ateez. seongjoong, yungi, and ofc woosan. 

as you could see, woosan was definitely thee most popular ship. however, i do believe their popularity grew over time because during the early era i’m sure seongjoong dominated, even on fanfic sites they dominate the amount of fanfics written about them. however, woosan’s clear comfort and intimacy with each other made them more popular among atiny’s and even non atiny’s they even had some taekookers saying their ship was realer and that’s saying something xD. 

something people really, no i mean REALLY need to understand is...doing fanservice does not invalidate an entire relationship. 

there are plenty of celeb couples who enjoy publicly dating and showing affection. 

then comes the argument of well, “if they were real they wouldn’t be so obvious about it.”

this statement bothers me because, people who believe that showing too much skinship is fanservice but then they’ll turn around and say at the same time it’s just culture???

it’s fair to see them doing their fake love dance routine and going THAT’S FANSERVICE. but looking at those moments and going ���nah, their entire friendship gotta be fanservice.’ is delusional to me, as u like to call us shippers. 

even if you do not ship them romantically, it’s odd to me that people see two same-sex idols expressing comfortability, intimacy and skinship together and feel like if they’re too open about it or if it looks too gay then it’s....fake? even tho fans love to say it’s just apart of their culture. but if it gets too gay, then it’s fanservice. 

i can’t. xD

just because they’re completely comfortable with being intimate doesn’t mean they’re being forced to act that way...it literally just means they ARE that way. 

i constantly put emphasis on being comfortable with skinship and intimacy bc, to me that’s just not something the company can force. body language is a reaction from your true emotions and your inner most thoughts. IT IS THE FOUNDATION TO FIGURING OUT WHAT A PERSON TRULY FEELS INSIDE AS THEIR EMOTIONS WILL ALWAYS TRANSLATE THROUGH THEIR BODY. if u are uncomfortable it will be revealed through body language. and i know a ton of seongjoong shippers are gonna hate me for this, but they are a prime example of this. trust me i’m not here to start a ship war, i am purely just using them as an example of discomfort in body language. 

body language is something a company cannot control.

seongjoong show definite signs of being uncomfortable with intimacy, heck shippers use that one moment seonghwa expressed sadness bc hj hugged the other members and not him as a shipping moment lol. but even when they do hug it looks uncomfortable. my guess is bc hj is not good at expressing his feelings and isn’t a touchy person. and even tho seonghwa is comfortable with skinship, it’s understandable that it can become uncomfortable for him bc of the things i mentioned before as well as the power dynamics and age difference between them.

and here i am going to be stoned bc, i have more to say about seongjoong(don’t kill me). 

bc something the company also can’t control is what OR who the members hang out with OUTSIDE of group activities. so that’s why i’m also mentioning that i also don’t think seongjoong is as close as shippers think they are as...seonghwa mostly hangs out with woosan. and it is almost always mentioned how often woosan hang out together off camera. even early on. woosan hung out so much that it literally came to a point where yeosang felt like his bestfriend was taken from him. 

can we mention again how happy that makes san? and let’s not forget the moment woo said seonghwa was into him, but san was like. ‘you’re into me tho’ and they BOTH tried to gloss over that.

wooyoung: wHaT dO u mEaN? 

lol. people love to say how much san’s whipped for woo, but woo’s probably even more whipped. 

here’s more evidence of woosan enjoying each others company off camera. https://woogurl.tumblr.com/post/614348590729625600/nobody-wooyoung-san-and-i-bass-boosted#notes. 

we can even talk about a more recent moment. the ateez debate about mint chocolate. dunno what’s with these kpop idols debating about mint choco ‘cause bts did it too. lol. anyway, they ended up talking about the group dynamics. and how woosan again are always together. 

i-i’m sorry, but does moment remind y’all of a past moment? LMFAO. seonghwa’s feeling yeosang’s pain. 

seonghwa’s just like woosan says they’re tired of each other but can’t detach themselves. and here’s more evidence that the company isn’t forcing them. for those who thinks kq has some masterplan when it comes to promoting ships.

when they talk about their dynamics, jongho says he feels left out but hj exposes him and says, ‘we’ve tried to pair him with someone but he(jongho) just doesn’t do it’

so this just solidifies my statement from earlier, if the members don’t wanna promote a ship. they ain’t gonna do it. we got one or two vlives from twoho and das it. lmfao. don’t get me wrong. i’m sure jongho get along well with yunho as well as the other members, but promoting any of the other ships in ateez like woosan isn’t gonna work well. ‘cause the rest of the members don’t have the same dynamics. woosan are comfortable with skinship and being intimate with each other and the other members just are not.

another piece of evidence is the members tired reaction whenever woosan is mentioned. lmfao. 

this was so dramatic omg. but the members reactions are very telling of woosan’s relationship off screen. if woosan was just fanservice i do not believe the members would react the way they do, maybe share some knowing glances at each other like. ‘pfft, they think woosan’s real’ but their reactions are always big or very indicative of something bigger happening behind the scenes. lol. 

i’m not gonna go into too much details, bc the members reactions to woosan are an entirely different post(i got so many posts to make. xD).

Lastly Wooyoung’s Tatto. I know right? He’s very committed to fanservice guys. 

Amicus ad Aras is something that woosan made to signify their friendship, and the fact woo got a tattoo on his body of it means a lot. not to mention woo himself taking initiative to find something that represented their relationship. 

i feel like i need to reiterate that the meaning of this tattoo was to define his relationship to san specifically so it applies to san specifically. woo has many MANY friends AS WELL as bestfriends yet he got a tattoo that can only be truly applied to san and no one else. 

u can continue saying theyy’re just good friends doing fanservice, but it’s obv that woo has many good friends. so the next question u gotta answer is what separates san from the others.

[crybabykiko]

Brainrot Kinktober 10/27

the best medicine

Squirting: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Skdkfkf a lot- angst if you squint, post breakup rebound sex kinda, recreational drug use bc it’s me who wrote this and every day is 4/20, sex under the influence so if you count that as dubcon oops, fingering, I wrote this for myself tbh so if you hate it oops, oral sex (f. receiving), Suga is a gemini, he is a menace, uhhh and yeah- squirting... I’m sorry I’m horrible at tags. It’s smut.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/n: yes you get this a day early bc my anniversary is tomorrow and bc @super-noya is taking a break. Be grateful... also I didn’t expect to make it this far into ktober without a train wreck so this is a good feeling. ☺️ enjoy yet another self indulgent piece.

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

The best way to get over someone is by getting under someone else. But that’s not why you texted Suga to come over. He was going to help you numb the pain of your breakup in a different way- the both of you getting insanely high. That was your ritual. Whenever one of you got dumped, the other would bring their stash, and you’d drown your sorrows in several bowls. After all, no one likes being high alone, and what else are best friends for? If anything, he’d be there to listen to you vent.

“I’m not going to say I told you so if you don’t,” he said as he walked through the door of your apartment. Before meeting up with you, he had just gotten stood up for the third time by another girl he was seeing. Taking his shoes and jacket off, he handed you his stash box. You blew a raspberry at him, bounding toward your room. You’d already had the lights low, and your speaker blasting music for the optimal vibe- which just so happened to be “all men-and the girl that stood Suga up- are trash.”

You sat on your bed as he came in behind you, grabbing your bong from its place on your shelf and sitting on the other side of the bed. Slowly and meticulously you had started to grind a portion of the quarter he had bought over.

“So what even happened,” he sighed as he began to pre-roll a few joints for you both.

“You sure you want to know?” You gave him a raised eyebrow.

He winced, getting the hint.

“Okay, maybe I don’t,” he laughed.

You hadn’t been with your now ex long, but it was no secret to any of your friends that you weren’t very happy with him in regards to your sex life.

The first few billows of smoke filled your bedroom from your lips, ending in a cough as you passed your bong over to Suga.

“God I hate this thing,” he chuckled, sparking the glitter encrusted glass. He took a feel inhale, the sound of the bubbling popping in your ears.

“So ugly,” he blew out. A light cough escaped from his lungs as he examined your piece.

“Fuck off,” you laughed back, snatching it from his hands. “It was my birthday gift from Yachi, and I happen to love it- she decorated it all on her own.” As you rubbed the cold glass with pride, a plastic letter popped off, sending you both over a barrel with giggles as you tried to gain your composure for another hit.

You shifted yourself to a more comfortable position on your stomach as you changed the song on your phone to something more mellow, reaching down in front of you to grab your snack stash below you before finally fully settling in and taking a few more hits, letting the familiar feeling of fuzziness overtake your senses.

Once both of you were comfortably numb, you moved the box in between you two, scooting closer to Suga for warmth. He tossed the hem of his flannel over your feet, the soft fabric somehow feeling even softer as you fixated on the texture in your inebriated state.

“Was he really that bad?” He sighed, sitting up next to you and grabbing another handful of Cheeze-Itz. Your trance on the plaid pattern broke as you felt your stomach drop just a little thinking about your ex.

“I mean… I never…” you trailed off a bit, body pricking with an uncomfortable embarrassment that was definitely harshing your high.

“I never came once. Literally 3 months of my life, and I didn’t.”

“Yikes,” Suga breathed out. He didn’t know exactly what to say, the drugs in his system impairing his normal supportive demeanor. You could tell he felt bad for you, but at the same time, he wouldn’t remember any of this come tomorrow morning.

“Well you know, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else…” his voice wavered, taking a drag of a joint he had left sitting in your ashtray.

“You’re so gross,” you huffed, giggling at him. “That’s not true anyway!” You flopped backwards on your bed, laughs softening as your head hit your pillow- your foggy head resting mere inches from his as he shifted to accommodate your new position.

“It would be if you were under me.” Smoke plumed from his mouth in a few rings as he stretched to lean back into your mattress.

There was a still silence for a second, but it felt like hours. He looked over at you with low eyes through the LED tinted haze. As red and glassed over as they were, they were still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. He was too gone to notice you were staring back. Without warning, he sat up, hooking a leg around you and taking hold of your wrists, looking down at you with lustfully hooded eyes.

“What if,” he started, a lazy smile enveloping his face.

“What if I made you cum? Would you be over him?”

You were entirely too high to comprehend the question, let alone protest it- especially because it had been something you’d wanted for so long. It couldn’t be real, he was just off his ass… there was no way this was happening… right?

You simply nodded at him, mouth agape- giving him the go ahead. His grin widened, pleased to be given the chance.

“Let’s get those pretty eyes rolling, then,” he breathed, lips already moving against yours, trailing kisses down your neck and chest, slowly sliding your leggings down and away from your body. You arched your back into him, making haste to pull his shirt over his head and toss it somewhere in your bedroom. Suga pushed you back, a wash of confusion blanketing your face as he stood at the foot of your bed.

“This is about you right now,” he chuckled, kneeling down and grabbing your ankles. “If you’re not too fucked out afterwards, then maybe we’ll get to me.”

What a tease. But his words were velveteen against your ears as your core started to heat with desire of what it would possibly be like to be able to get to him.

His motions were fast but everything around you felt slow. Propping your legs up and apart, he gave one last glossy-eyed look at you. Your jaw was slacked with anticipation as he brought his fingers to your mouth. You coated them with your own spit, just enough to wet them a little, never once taking your eyes off of Suga. You traced his every move as he lined his slicked digits up at your poor, neglected slit, which was already soaked in anticipation of him. Slowly, he sunk in one finger, then another. You were already clenching your walls at the mere feeling of friction.

“Greedy are we?” He laughed, slowly adding in a third finger, filling you completely. Your long drawn out moan was response enough to him as he started to move, slowly curling them against you. You began to move as well, begging for more friction only to have your bottom half pinned into place by Suga’s free hand. The swimming feeling in your head made you feel even more sensitive to his touch, as jagged breaths left your lungs.

“Stop squirming, baby,” he cautioned. “I’ve got you- I promise.”

“Please, just… please don’t stop,” you said, barely above a whisper.

You were met with a jolt of wet heat as he attached his mouth to your core, fingers still slowly pumping as he wrapped his lips around your clit. Even in your fuzziness, your hands found his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth and face, trying so hard to get all of the friction you could as he fucked you on his lithe fingers. A string of curses left your lips as he removed his fingers from you and plunged his tongue inside, swirling it up and then around your clit again.

He detached from you, hooded eyes and a lazy smile spreading across his face as he watched you writhing under his touch. You whined in disapproval, only to be pulled down by your ankles and into his lap on the floor. He placed lazy open mouthed kisses to your own, sloppily dragging his tongue anywhere he could make contact, the taste of your arousal meeting your own tongue.

Humming against your skin, Suga took the lead, hands roaming your body as he twisted you to sit in his lap, back against his chest. He lifted your chin to look at him, shakily breathing as one of his arms found his way between your thighs, lithe fingers tracing against your slit, slowly slipping themselves into you, walls eagerly swallowing them in pleasure.

“I’m going to start moving now, okay?” he said softly, eyes stuck to yours as he curled them in and out. His other hand snaked around your waist, pressing down to your abdomen as you arched your back at the change in pressure. A gargled moan caught in the back of your throat as he sped up, pistoning his fingers directly into the soft, spongy flesh in your core.

You could barely form any coherent words- lips sputtering half praises and soft gasps as he guided you, the butterflies welling in your stomach set to burst through. Goosebumps were pricking your body as he whispered in your ear.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Does it feel good?”

You nodded, the fuzziness in between your eyes coupled with the building pressure in your lower half gave way to a dizzying sensation, a squelching noise coming out from your walls. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you grabbed at his wrist, feeling the familiar approach of your high, but even stranger, the burning feeling of having to go to the bathroom.

“I’m going to…” Suga cut you off as he clasped his lips over yours again, fingering you faster and bringing his thumb to your clit. Your screams were muffled by his kiss, a wet release streaming from you as Suga removed his fingers to flatten his palm against your sex, rubbing as fast as his hands could against your clit.

As you came down, you clutched onto him tightly, shaking in the realization of your wetness soaking his jeans. You let out a deep sigh, ears ringing as you entered the earthly realm yet again.

“Never knew you were a squirter,” your best friend teased, helping you out of his lap and up onto the bed.

“I didn’t either,” you panted out.

He raised an eyebrow, scooting up next to you in bed. Your fingers twisted at your t-shirt, fumbling to throw it back on and feeling his eyes on you, still lingering in the heaviness of the smoke that was dissipating in your room.

You looked at him longingly through the vapors, fingers tracing the details of his face as you both lingered in the reality of what just happened.

“So,” Suga sat up, taking your hands in his. “You think you’re over him?”

You nodded.

“But I don’t think I’ll be over you anytime soon,” you said softly.

He sparked up another joint, pulling your face to his as he blew the smoke into your mouth, sealing it with another kiss.

“You don’t have to be,” he smirked. “We’ve got all afternoon if you want to stay under me…”

You definitely did.

Brainrot Kinktober Taglist (if ur url is bolded, check ur privacy settings!): @ukaic @definitelythotful @shrimpypenis @nonexistent-social-life @crushingonsuga @revolutionary-chocolate-cake @right-shoe-jpg @sugawara-sweetheart @nxynxy @aoba-baby @arianna20 @scorpiosanssexy @ceo-of-daichi @dinosaurtsukki @turquoiselace @nonamemaximum @omibaby @chokemelevi @bokuakadaily @haikyuuangst @cutie-aesthetic-palace @whet-ones-write @superdepressedhoe @iwachanswh0re @crushzone @kiseox @mysticalroadnightempath @toobsessedsstuff @trouvelle @kodzu-ken @elianetsantana @sonyaroses-blog @tsukkisbitch @mrs-kuroojinguji @tendousfingers

[helnjk]

Sixth Year - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Platonic!Blaise Zabini x fem!reader

Requested: yes

Hey if requests are open could you do a prompt#21&50 for Draco.. Could it be a bit of angst and end with fluff? Thanks!

“all you do is make empty promises” “i’m tired of your lies”

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: 6th year with Draco isn’t turning out how you expected it to be.

A/N: ok 1, i wanted to try writing angst (pls give comments/reviews!! i wanna know how i did) & 2, other than the request, i kind of based this off of one of my fav tiktok acct’s shifting stories aksjdhsadh you can find her here ! i love her tiktoks and she’s what got me into shifting LMAO but anyway ! let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist ! enjoy xx

THIS IS A REPOST BC I THINK TUMBLR DID ME DIRTY WITH THE TAGS

Prompts are in bold

—

Eighth. This was the eighth night you had stayed up until god knows what hour waiting for Draco to show up.

The moon was high in the sky by the time you realized he wasn’t coming yet again. The biting wind rushed past you as you tried to gather as much warmth as possible from the jacket you brought up to the Astronomy tower. Your breath came out in short puffs, white wisps trailing from your mouth out into the chilly night.

With one last glance at the midnight stained grounds, the only light emanating from the moon above, you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body and turned to make it down the stairs. It was a long trek to the Slytherin dorms, which gave your mind more time to spiral. This meant fighting back the prick of tears at the back of your eyes by the time you had reached the dungeons.

The next morning, you found yourself at the Slytherin table barely able to keep your eyes open. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, your mind refusing to stop running the different scenarios with which you imagined Draco must have gotten into causing him to forget your rescheduled plans.

“Y/N?” Blaise’s voice startled you into opening your eyes, having nodded off, leant against your palm.

“Huh?” You murmured, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes, “Sorry did you say something?”

“You alright? You look like you could just drop dead any second,” His eyes scanned yours worriedly, shifting closer to you so that you could have something to lean on.

“Gee thanks Blaise,” A sarcastic drawl came out of your lips, “Just tired. I was up late last night at the Astronomy tower waiting for Draco.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “Draco? He got to the dorms pretty early last night. Didn’t say he had anything planned with you last night.” Eyes widened at the realization of what he said and he quickly tried to back track, “I mean-That’s not-”

Despite the distinct crack you felt in your chest, you mustered up the faintest of smiles (which probably looked more like a lopsided grimace), “It’s alright, Blaise. Thanks for letting me know.”

The rest of the day passed by you in a blur.

Everyone seemed to notice the melancholy mood that you were in, everyone except for the only person you wished would pay attention.

Being in your sixth year at Hogwarts, you were excited to spend a good chunk of it with your boyfriend. After all, there were no OWLs or NEWTs to worry about (yet), so you assumed that this year would bring more time for you to spend together.

You were wrong. Clearly.

The moment you had stepped off the Hogwarts Express in September, Draco started to spend less and less time with you. It was November now and the less time you found yourself spending with him, the more you noticed that he began to keep things from you. His eyes would shift whenever you would ask him what his plans for the day were or when you questioned who he would be with all day. He never gave you straight answers either.

“Why? What do you have planned for us today?”

“Just off brainstorming for our next date.”

“Obsessed with me, are you? You’re too cute darling.”

No matter how charming he had tried to be with his answers, you could tell something was off with him. None of the so-called plans he came up with ever came to full fruition. Often, you would find yourself waiting for him to arrive, either at the common room to take you to wherever he planned your date to be, or up in the Astronomy tower since that was where you went when you wanted to spend time, just the two of you.

Some nasty rumors had also been circulating Slytherin house. It started when someone overheard Harry Potter speaking to his friends about running into Draco right before a quidditch match, but the catch was that he was in the company of two other girls. Of course, you tried not to let these kinds of things get to you, they were just silly little rumors after all.

Still, these kinds of thoughts plagued you at night when you would go to bed not wrapped in the arms of the person you loved most.  

When you brought up these feelings with him, it had only started an argument.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.” Draco said rather harshly after you asked him about the rumors, “Are you implying that I’m cheating on you?”

“No!” You replied immediately, “I just want to know where these rumors are coming from. You’re my boyfriend, I should know what to say when people ask me about it.”

“Then tell them they should be minding their own damn business.”

You didn’t bring it up after that, afraid that if you did, it would cause an even bigger rift between you two.

By the time you had made it back to the common room, it was mostly empty. There were a couple of seventh years trying to get in some extra revising time in the corner, but they mostly left you alone. Not wanting to go up to your dorm yet, you settled on the couch next to the blazing fire instead. By some stroke of luck, Draco came stumbling inside the room as you sunk into the cushions.

“Draco!” You called out, his name slipping from your lips before you even knew you were saying anything.

His eyes registered that you were in the practically empty common room a second slower than usual, “Y/N. Hi love.”

“I missed you last night,” You admitted as he reached you.

A furrow in his brows told you that he didn’t know what you were talking about, “Come again, love?”

For the nth time, his words struck a chord deep in you. You didn’t think it was physically possible, but they added yet another crack to your already broken heart. You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down the lump that had formed, “Uh, I was waiting for you in the Astronomy tower? Because we had plans?”

As if a bucket of cold water dropped on him, his demeanour changed completely in the blink of an eye.

“Oh darling I’m so sorry,” He muttered softly, taking your face in his hands and pressing kisses all around, “I was completely knackered yesterday, I didn’t even think about anything after dinner except sleep. I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Instead of the calm you usually felt being around Draco, you felt like you were at your breaking point. You couldn’t do this to yourself anymore. It was surprising to realize, that even with the added comfort of being at the receiving end of his kisses, there was still a large part of you that was tired. You couldn’t fall back into his arms after more than a dozen attempts at trying to keep the relationship afloat.

Gently, you pried his hands away from his face and took a deep breath. You could already feel the sting of unshed tears in your eyes as they locked with his, “I don’t think you can do anything to fix this.”

“What-Love, what are you talking about?”

“All you do is make empty promises, Dray.” You whispered, “And I’m tired of setting myself up for disappointment.”  

The love of your life was speechless, so you took the opportunity to stand up quickly. “I don’t understand what you’re doing or why you’re being so secretive about it, but find me when you’ve figured out if it’s worth it or not.”

Without waiting for his response, you hurriedly made your way to your dorm room and sparing no glances back in his direction.

-

A few days after your heartbreaking conversation with Draco, you still weren’t one hundred percent. It didn’t feel like you were ever going to be one hundred percent again. Your only solace was your friendship with Blaise.

For all intents and purposes, he was your best friend. Even before you had started dating Draco, the two of you were thick as thieves.

Oftentimes over the next few days, you found yourselves huddled in a corner of the common room. He would remind you to eat and to do your schoolwork as you went about your days mindlessly.

“C’mon,” He said one night, holding his hand out to you as you were cuddled up against a cushion. You merely raised your eyebrow at him, “Get up, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and took his hand. It was well past curfew, but it never really bothered the pair of you. Being Slytherins made you resourceful with how you navigated the castle, the easy dynamic between the two of you enabled you to sneak through the shadows unnoticed by anyone who might have been nearby.

“Why are we going to the Astronomy tower?” You whispered as you climbed the seemingly endless staircase.

“Just thought you could use some fresh air.” He answered nonchalantly, “Feels like you’ve kept yourself cooped up in the castle this whole week.”

“That’s awful sweet of you, Zabini,” You teased, the shadow of a smile on your lips.

He shrugged as you got to the top of the tower, “Just don’t like seeing you so sad.”

Few words were exchanged between you two as you leant against the railing of the turret, taking in the view of the grounds in the dim light. The moon was full and high in the sky, and the breeze wasn’t as biting as it was the last time you were here.

Something about being up there in the clear night with Blaise was doing wonders for your aching heart. It might’ve been the fresh, crisp air, it might have been the calming presence of your best friend. You were grateful either way.

As the wind picked up, you huddled closer to Blaise’s warm body. What was it about boys being basically walking furnaces all the damn time?

“Draco’s a prat,” He murmured as he wrapped his arms around you, “I just wanted you to hear that.”

“He’s not though,” You defended weakly, “Something’s up with him, definitely, but I don’t think he’s being a dick on purpose.”

“Yeah but he’s still made you feel like shit.”

You shrugged, “And I let him.”

After a few minutes of silence, you heard the distinct sound of a door swinging open behind you. You craned your neck to see who would be up here at such a late hour when your heart stopped in your chest.

“What’s going on here?” Draco sneered, taking in the sight of you cuddled up at Blaise’s side, “Replaced me already, Y/N? Reckon he’s the reason why we’ve broken up?”

You felt Blaise tense up beside you but paid no mind when your focus was solely on the rage brewing in your chest.

“How dare you,” You seethed, “You have no right to accuse me, we weren’t even doing anything!”

He had the audacity to scoff at your retort, “Sneaking off at nearly midnight, to share a romantic night under the stars? Seems like more than just ‘nothing.’”

Before you could respond, you felt Blaise’s warm hands on your shoulders, “I’m gonna let you handle this one, love.” Blaise whispered in your ear, “He doesn’t deserve anything from you, but I feel like I’ll only make it worse if I stay.”

You nodded slightly.

“Hurt her even more than you have, Malfoy, and you’ll see just what kinds of curses I know how to cast.”

With Blaise making a quick exit and taking away your source of warmth, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and clutched the jacket you had on closer to you.

“You never had a problem with my friendship with Blaise before,” You muttered.

“Because he wasn’t all over you then!” He argued.

“We’ve always been like that and you know it.” You rolled your eyes, “Why are you even up here Draco?”

“So you own the Astronomy tower now?” He huffed, stepping next to you to lean on the railings, “I needed somewhere to think and clear my head.”

Almost as if there was no gaping chasm between the two of you, your bodies slowly inched towards each other until you were shoulder to shoulder. Almost as if the boy standing next to you hadn’t broken your heart with his secrets and his deflection tactics, his presence seemed to calm your elevated heart rate. Almost.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s been going on with you recently?” The words that escape your mouth are no more than a whisper. You hold your breath in anticipation.

“Nothing’s been going on,” Is all he says in reply.

“Stop lying through your teeth, Draco!” You burst out, your frustrations finally getting the better of you, “I’m tired of your lies. Do you not trust me? Is that it? Because I can help you, you just have to let me in!”

“Of course I trust you! I love you for Merlin’s sake, Y/N!”

You sucked in a breath, all of your resentment seeming to escape your body, “I love you too, Draco,” You whisper, taking his warm hand in your cold ones, “But all of this sneaking around, this hiding, I don’t think I can handle not knowing what you’re up to especially when it’s affecting you this way.”

Draco took a deep shuddering breath, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say, “You won’t, you just need to be honest with me.”

He turned to face you, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hands, “I can’t tell you exactly what I’m doing,” You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off with a look, “All I can say is that I love you and I want to protect you. What I’m doing has nothing to do with how much you mean to me, but it’s something I have to do. I just need you to be here, be with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Came your reply.

“I’m saying that I have an important job to do, and I want to be with you, but that means you’ll have to be okay with not knowing everything.”

“You’ll tell me if you need any help though, right?” You all but whispered.

“I’ll tell you if you absolutely need to know,” He nodded slightly.

“Okay,” You were still trying to wrap your head around everything that he said. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a good compromise, “And you can’t keep blowing me off. If you want me to be here for you, then you have to do the same for me.”

“I can work with that.” A slow smile graced his pale features and you felt your heart stutter at the sight, you hadn’t seen him look so calm and at ease in a long time.

“Good.” You pressed your cheek against his chest and reveled at the comfort it brought you. He wrapped his arms around you and you could feel yourself melting into his touch.

[pateldevs]

Hi! I hope I'm not bothering you, but I love your mood board edits and was wondering if you could explain how you go about making/colouring them? I see lots of places to find gifs but turning them into a set is so hard. Thank you in advance!

hi! first of all thank you so much and second of all it’s not a bother at all! i am happy to give some of my own tips even if my explanation probably isn’t super helpful. i won’t give like a ps tutorial but below the cut (since i included example gifs, it’s VERY long) is my process for my latest jily aesthetic:

i keep track of all my ideas/sets in a spreadsheet (which i won’t show bc there’s a lot of info i’d have to blur/black out) but i always have a list of what scenes i need to gif/what gifs i’m editing and where i’m getting them from. i also include a couple extra ideas in case the gifs i have planned end up being too hard to color or don’t fit in the set. i’ve found it’s best/easiest to start w the list bc there is literally nothing worse than spending hours on a set and then not being able to complete it.

as for actually finding the material, i have a pretty healthy number of scene packs saved in my giffing folder, esp. for things i know i will gif frequently. most of the time i will peruse youtube, vimeo, and instagram for any aesthetic scenes. i also have a lot of gif packs saved specifically for the purpose of making mbs (usually i mix my own gifs w gif packs), if you msg me i’m happy to direct you to some gif packs i use regularly or you can check my #resources tag. a couple tips for finding material: 

always opt for download when possible, i used to screen record and the difference when i switched to downloading was astronomical. (it’s easy to lose quality and esp if you’re on mac, quicktime duplicates frames so either you have to manually delete those extras or you get sort of choppy gifs when you load them into ps.)

always use 1080p or better, 720p will work in a pinch for 268px or 177px gifs since you can make up some of that resolution loss with sharpening, but don’t go any lower than that, just love yourself. 

for pale sets, look for the right colors. i tend to look for scenes w high color contrast especially if it features poc so it’s easier to color without whitewashing, ie if the subject is a person then i look for light colored or blue/green/violet/white backgrounds. it’ll make your life wayyyyy easier. this also means if you’re making a set try to find scenes with already similar lighting bc you won’t have to work so hard to make it look cohesive.

here’s a quick rundown of what i do before coloring:

import all frames and save all the files in a folder together!!

play around with frame delay so all the gifs are moving at about the same speed, usually keep it between 0.03-0.05s

crop and resize gifs (i use 268x145 most of the time)

convert to timeline

when it comes to coloring it can be really hit or miss, i’ve recently gotten back into my groove but i was having sooo much trouble earlier this year. in general, don’t stress yourself out!! sometimes it’s easier to just find a new scene/gif (hence my list of extras!) than to try too hard to fit a gif into your set. i color all my gifs by scratch (ie no psds) but i tend to follow the same pattern, i’ll explain using these gifs/psd as an example since then i can also explain how to fix white-washing:

first off when you’re coloring gifs with poc always always always make a layer mask so you can compare the edited and unedited skin tones directly! i use the marquee tool to make a selection in the middle of the character’s face, select the folder of my adjustment layers, and hit ‘add vector mask’ (the third button from the left on the layers panel, it’s a white rectangle with a circle in it). 

i almost always begin by using hue/saturation layers to highlight and delete certain colors. here i highlighted red and raised the lightness on yellow by a lot since it’s a very yellow scene. then i use a combination of brightness/contrast, levels, and curves layers to brighten the scene. here’s what i have now:

i add a gradient map set to black/white, change the blending to exclusion, and lower the opacity to between 5-10% (depending on the scene) to lighten the contrast further:

then i add back a little depth with selective color in neutrals and blacks:

now i have two main goals: 1. add contrast between the background and the subject, and 2. brighten the scene into a pale gif. to do this, i use color balance to tweak the color of the background, taking out the yellows. this step works best if there’s at least some shade difference between your subject and background, otherwise isolating the two will be impossible. here’s what i have after adding color balance:

i use hue/saturation to selectively highlight the background color. in this case i chose to adjust magenta and used the color picker (the first eyedropper on the left) to identify the exact shade i wanted to lighten. now i have a fairly neutral background and a colorful subject, which gives a sort of pale effect:

and now i use a curves layer and a selective color (white) layer to brighten further:

before i go further, i start fixing white-washing. keep in mind that some variance is normal since you are naturally changing the lighting of the scene; this gif shows it rlly clearly bc of how yellow and dim the lighting is, so some lightening is to be expected. however, both because the vector mask shows a lot of whitening and because i’ve giffed dev patel before and have a general idea of what he looks like in this type of lighting, i know what needs to be fixed, so i go back in under the psd/adjustment layers with a combination of selective color (red and neutral) and hue/saturation layers to darken his skin again:

now that some more contrast has been added in, i can go back to working on the psd and use curves and selective color to play around with the background again:

i use another hue/saturation layer and a black/white gradient to tone down oversaturation:

usually i leave those layers on top, so if i want to make any adjustments (like lightening the background more), i go in under those two. in this case i tweaked the whites and reduced the contrast a little to get this:

again, you can see his skin tone has changed from the original, but variation is to be expected given how much brighter the room is, the fact that i took out a lot of yellow lighting, and the brightening effect of the computer screen in front of him. some other things to keep in mind when coloring:

when you add layers to correct white-washing, you’re likely to end up with overly red/orange skin tones (red-washing). this can be fixed by upping cyans in the reds, desaturating/darkening the reds, or adding b/w or desaturation later on.

when in doubt, it’s better to be darker than lighter (the issue with white-washing is that it promotes colorism, and there is nothing inherently wrong with a darker skin tone) but really. just put in the effort to color poc correctly.

when changing the lighting a lot it helps to look at pictures of the subject in natural/bright lighting, since you get a better idea of what their normal skin tone is. 

don’t try to squeeze all your selective color layers into one. you’ll get less grainy gifs if you separate them out and work one by one. 

TURN OFF NIGHT SHIFT/NIGHT MODE! yes i KNOW it’s bad for your eyes (especially if you’re like me and gif at night, when the lighting outside isn’t changing every 20 seconds) but your gifs will look VERY different under f.lux or night mode compared to daytime screens. especially if you’re giffing at different times of day, blue light filters can really change the way your coloring appears. best to keep it consistent.

my sharpening settings vary depending on what i’m giffing but in general i do two layers of smart sharpen (500% with radius between 0.2-0.4, 10% with radius at 10px) and then gaussian blur at 2.5px and adjust the opacity so it’s somewhere between 15-20%. i try to strike a balance between smoothing out the graininess from selective color, and sharpening details like clothes and hair. here’s what i ended up with for the gif above:

then i rinse and repeat for the rest of the gifs in the set! i tend to start with the gifs that i know will be hardest to color, which is usually the darker ones (coloring is limited by how much i can brighten the scene) and those that include poc (again, limited by how much i can brighten and adjust the scene’s lighting without white-washing). then i check set cohesion as i go, using those first few gifs as benchmarks. once i have all 8 (or 9 or 10) gifs, i play around with composition and try to balance and vary the subject, colors, and composition of gifs next to each other. i go back and make a couple of adjustments here and there according to what i observe and what i think might improve the overall appearance.

and that’s pretty much it! i hope this was helpful, if you have other questions feel free to message me and i’d be happy to help/troubleshoot. happy giffing!

[shuaplum]

get to know me tag

I was tagged by @sweetmxchi and @taewithsuga ,thank youu!! :’)

Rules: Answer questions and then tag 20 blogs you would like to know better.

1.Nickname: Simmy 2.Gender: Female 3.Star Sign: Aries 4.Height: 1,72m or 5'7 5.Time: 23:50 6.Birthday: 2nd of April 7.Favourite Bands: Milky Chance, BTS, EXO 8.Favourite Solo Artist: Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar, Hozier, Childish Gambino 9.Song Stuck In My Head: Asleep by The Smiths 10.Last movie watched: Why him? (but also not the whole movie, i don’t really watch movies idk why) 11.Last show watched: Supernatural (i’m actually watching it rn) 12.When did I create my blog: only about a month ago i think?? 13.What do I post: mainly BTS and EXO 14.Last thing I googled: medial collateral ligament injury (i’m in a bad spot rn) 15.Do you have other blogs: yes, a lot actually but the ones i used the most were my aesthetic and anime blogs 16.Do you get asks: not really 17.Why did you choose your url: i always choose urls by the way they look and sound and i happened to like this one 18.Following: a lot 19.Followers: not a lot 20.Favourite colors: black and maroon 21.Average hours of sleep: rn in the summer 5-10 hours 22.Lucky number: don’t have one 23.Instruments: nope, don’t play any but i always wanted to learn to play the piano 24.What are you wearing: an oversized t-shirt from Italy and grey shorts aand a pair of fuzzy socks 25.How many blankets I sleep with: only one 26.Dream Job: pharmacist or photographer 27.Dream trip: Amazon Rainforest 28.Favourite food: sushi i guess 29.Nationality: Latvian 30.Favourite song now: Lost by BTS
 31.Favourite fruit: that would have to be a nectarine
 32.Favourite season: deffo summer
 33.Favourite flower: peonies
 34.Favourite animal: cat
 35.Favourite fictional character: Jon Snow and Bellamy Blake

I tag: @kyungsoss @pastel-fuc @animtae @regionalclique @taequila @s0ftyoongi @1yeolie @softrapline @lovhobe @minyoong2 @fraptae @deadlychim @sereneclouds @c0nversehigh @jimnluv @acrylictae @starryyoongi @yougotnojams99 , you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to!

[jcfoxington]

@sambambucky​ : “pls... Pastels, Peaches and Pain??? among us first draft??? marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts (it’s not an au!?!??!)

hi jo !!! Pastels, Peaches, and Pain is one of those sambucky wips i have mostly fully fleshed out in my head because of one (1) extreme moment of clarity after a rogue ‘what if’ tangent thought but havent written anything of yet out of restraint / knowing i need to finish at least one of my current sambucky wips before i start it or none of them will get done

this was the rogue tangent thought: “what if Sam is haunted by Figaro’s ghost and has been since he was a kid?”. i’ve changed the ghost cat to not be Figaro but that’s the premise !

i refer to the fic as the cat fic ‘cause the whole plot is based around sam’s ghost cat companion insisting he adopts nat’s cat Liho after endgame and then Figaro later and then [insert redacted because plot spoilers but just know it relates to Alpine]. no im not projecting my feelings about cats idk what youre talking about 

here’s some note snippets just for you:

the cat, inexplicably, takes a liking to bucky, which is really annoying bc sam doesnt know how to explain to him that all the oddly soft gusts of wind are actually sam's dead cat insisting on getting pats

bucky getting shade thrown at him by said ghost cat during all of tfatws + them making up (and not out. yet)

starts when sam's a kid & follows him as he grows up w/ a ghost kitty as a companion only he can see & interact with + angst with an undertone of comedy + getting together

he whispers to ghost kitty, who simply mmrrs happily

for the among us first draft thing, what basically happened is i saw this tweet and this video and my brain latched onto these dynamics so hard i had to write about them. 

here’s a sketch of my two main imposters, Black (left) and Cyan (right):

and here’s a snippet:

The thing having Cyan pause and stare out at the asteroid field is how the colors stretch to family. When they and Black came aboard, they had thought every crewmember was an adult working on the planet-change project. That the patch of off-white with a black something-pattern-or-shape signified status. In a way, Cyan supposes it does, but just not the way they expected. They had expected it to show what rank an individual held within the hierarchy of the crew, from deckhand to division leader to captain, not to show that you're family of the crew and not actually part of the crew itself. 

There are innocents on this ship. Children. It was not something any of them had anticipated, and not something Cyan had been prepared to deal with. They and Black boarded this horrible place to eradicate a threat, believing each and single one of the humans were accomplishes and dedicated to the goal of destroying Cyan and Black's species, and their planet. But, now?

marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts... doesn’t have a wip title or seperate document for itself yet cause it’s been stuck in my ‘story ideas’ document since its creation. so ‘marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts’ is literally just me describing the vibe of an original world gjkerfkds

the world came to be for two reasons. firstly, i want to do make take on a superhero universe because the plot and complete lack of communication in both the dcu and mcu piss me the fuck off. secondly, needed a place to dump ocs with elaborate backstories or fantasy / sci-fi abilities that dont fit into any of my existing worlds

which sounds super competent but trust me, it isn’t. it didn’t gain any solidity at all until i decided to do a personal ‘how different can i make spn castiel look & still retain the same vibe?’ challenge. i have my own cas now

however, the reason i said ‘marvel meets...’ is because i’ve snagged a couple of different things from the mcu, most notably: enemies to reluctant coworkers to lovers, yes our best friend have the same name. no they’re not the same person, secret evil org is controlling the government, and the assassin that tried to kill you several times is now your best friend

warframe was added to the world because i got attached to my Volt build, gave them a name, and have some headcanons idk what to do with because i refuse to interact with that fandom. also because the friend i made through discussing warframe lore + plot dicked me over so it feels Bad to create for

the glue to this whole mess is that one “in every friend group there’s a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, a she/they, a he/they, a himbo, an astrology bitch, a short king, and a token straight” tumblr post. my main group of superheroes ala the avengers consist of these people. the token straight is the only one i havent figured out who is yet

ever since i figured that out ive been throwing story / character ideas and weirdly specific aesthetics from popular tumblr posts into this world’s notes. here’s some examples:

sword grandmas

that trope where someone’s really nice and acts super well-adjusted to society but then they do something super whack and dangerous and you realize ‘oh they’re secretly a little bit insane, actually’

anti-gay group’s leader’s wife leaves him for another woman

superhero who swore to be the best hero [city / planet / solar system / continent / ????] has ever seen ever since he lost his wife. not because she’s dead but divorce just sucks & the hero-to-be is terrible at coping

dishevelled swamp witch

that one person who runs around with an amulet all the time & isn’t aware it’s cursed

an exasperated, tired superhuman assassin running after their husband and their husband's best friend. their husband and said husband's best friend both have wings. chaos ensues (yes, this one is a sambucky post)

ask me about my WIPs!

BONUS:

@sambambucky​​ : #i want to have a coffee and listen to synopses of all of these.... #i miss the discord wow #WRITING TAG #waitttt time jumping dream movie? lmao I'VE READ THIS LIST FORTY TIMES and every time i rediscover something i wanna know about #outfit doodlesss ugh i need to go

couldnt not respond to your tags because they make me go ghrkjfnerknf but in the good way. we miss you too jo !!

the time jumping dream movie was one of the first vivid dreams i had and the whole thing was so stupidly coherent and whacky i had to write it down. it grew plot, a queer love dynamic, weird sci-fi apocalypse elements, anti-military propaganda, questionable science, and a sequel while i wasnt looking and now i just. have to make it a real movie or i’ll combust

outfit djoodlles.png is only on there because my best friend sent me a ‘draw this outfit’ meme and space kitty, my current character brainrot, stole all the outfits for himself. otherwise, that file just sits there until im feeling like designing an outfit or wanna see how a stupid thing looks on my oc patrick

here’s one of the two poses-to-doodle-outfits-on of space kitty ive made so far:

and here’s one of those stupid things on patrick (that then turned into an actual outfit of his because i have no self control):

[gayluigi]

I posted 17,025 times in 2021

343 posts created (2%)

16682 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 48.6 posts.

I added 887 tags in 2021

#happy tag - 316 posts

#chicken man - 287 posts

#laugh track - 133 posts

#beautiful people - 29 posts

#face horror - 26 posts

#chicken daughter - 23 posts

#batjokes - 22 posts

#minty - 18 posts

#my little pony - 18 posts

#oh no - 15 posts

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

When I found out this lunatic animal abuser was on YouTube making stupid polls, I just HAD to leave a couple of snide remarks 😂 (No, I would never actually eat robin eggs... just trying to get her panties in a twist.)

43 notes • Posted 2021-06-11 08:51:28 GMT

#4

Raymond…. I think you fundamentally misunderstand what “hot cocoa” is 🤣 I think you might be wanting some chocolate milk!!

60 notes • Posted 2021-11-17 21:36:28 GMT

#3

AMAZING Shane fanart by Corisan272 on Reddit!! Originally posted [here] and crossposted to tumblr with permission :3 

229 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 22:38:12 GMT

#2

Male and female is a social construct tho. Words like "steer" or "heifer" as sex-essentiallizing. Like how you wouldn't call a platypus a mammal.

😂 Male and female aren’t social constructs when referring to animals, buddy roll. Animals don’t have the same kind of social structures we do. Animals don’t have gender identity like a human does. Animals don’t care if you call them by their sex, because they don’t have the capacity to give a fuck.

A bull is a bull bc he’s an intact male moo. A steer is a steer bc he’s an altered male moo. A heifer is a heifer because she’s a female moo who hasn’t had calves yet. A cow is a cow because she’s a female moo who’s had calves. And none of them particularly care what you call them.

And uhhh a platypus IS a mammal, idk what you’re on about. They’re one of two egg-laying species of mammals, the other being the echidna.

@dairyisntscary get a load of this

249 notes • Posted 2021-03-15 18:43:11 GMT

#1

PSA: If you’re out in public and see a visibly disabled person sitting there minding their own business, you do NOT have the right to record them just because you think they’re lesser than you.

I was at a restaurant with my friend who’s “severely” autistic (I hate functioning labels but idk how else to describe it), his understanding of the world is on the level of about a 6-7 yr old, and he has apraxia, so his movements are stilted and forced, he’s super thin and just never gains weight so it exaggerates the awkwardness of his movements, and his speech is very slurred and hard to understand. So to the average person, yes, he looks and talks funny. He also carries around a giant Chuck E Cheese plush and a Curious George plush, so that might be seen by others as weird too. But he’s the sweetest guy, super cool, even if he’s not exactly a conversationalist. He’s really and truly great.

But this asshole sitting at the bar perpendicular to where we were at our table pulled out his phone and was openly recording him on video. Just because my friend had the audacity to exist in a public place as a visibly disabled person. I didn’t see it going on or I would’ve confronted them. The only person who saw it was my mom, and she flipped them off but didn’t say anything to them.

Like, what gives you the right to record someone who’s just minding their own business? Just because they look and sound different from the average person? I consider my friend to be my brother. He’s a great guy, and everyone who knows him adores him. But this person didn’t bother to come and ask questions or anything, just thought it would be funny to record him.

And this isn’t the first incident where someone has discriminated against him for being visibly disabled. One time we were at Chuck E Cheese, and this man decided he was gonna try and get my friend thrown out because he didn’t like the fact that he was existing in public as a visibly disabled person. He went to the manager and made up a lie that my friend had his hand down his pants and was watching the man’s child and fondling himself. My friend was wearing skinny jeans and couldn’t have fit his hand down his pants if he had TRIED, and he’s NEVER exhibited that kind of behavior before. This guy just didn’t like that a disabled man was daring to exist in public. Luckily, the manager didn’t believe his story, but she told my friend’s mom what happened, and my friend’s mom actually confronted the guy, and he left with his child, thank god.

Disabled people exist. They exist in public. And they have the RIGHT to exist in public. You don’t have the right to record them, nor do you have the right to try and get them kicked out of a public venue just for being disabled. Mind your own fucking business.

And it pisses me off because I’m autistic too, but I’ve NEVER had this kind of problem, because I’m good at masking and I don’t have apraxia. I appear perfectly “normal” to the average person most of the time, unless I’m stimming or something like that. But because my friend doesn’t have the ability to mask, he’s viciously discriminated against. It’s not FAIR. People need to mind their own fucking business and leave visibly disabled people the hell alone.

621 notes • Posted 2021-03-28 01:02:47 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[the-most-adorkable-smile]

I posted 20,901 times in 2021

13 posts created (0%)

20888 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1606.8 posts.

I added 104 tags in 2021

#eurovision - 34 posts

#eurovision 2021 - 25 posts

#discworld - 12 posts

#croki - 6 posts

#loki - 6 posts

#the mitchells vs the machines - 5 posts

#fun - 4 posts

#death tw - 4 posts

#italy - 4 posts

#long post - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#and it's for-profit universities and colleges siphoning money off their students for very little in return

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

PAGE A DAY: RELOADED

My previous efforts at writing a page a day have yielded mixed-to-poor results, so I’m starting again with another story. I’m also going to be putting it on my main blog (that’s here) in the hopes that I can get some feedback. To make sure I do it, I’m setting myself some ground rules:

- I’ve got to write at least one word each day. I know it’s not a page, but if I can write at least a word towards it I’ll have done something, and something is better than nothing.

- NO EDITS, not until I’ve finished the whole thing! I have terrible trouble just finishing a story - this time I want to finish, so I’m committing to not rewriting parts of this until I’ve finishing a first draft.

- I’ve gotta post something story-related each day. If I’ve only written one word it’s not gonna make me feel great to post, but I can always write about the characters, the world, the obstacles. So long as I can create a post about the story I can write just a little.

- Keep it fresh. It’ll be easier to write if I’m making it an exercise - practise styles, try different voices, see what works and what doesn’t. Once again, I can’t rewrite it until I’ve written everything else, but it’s a way to keep me writing.

- Answer questions. If any of you have questions about the story as I write it, I’ll answer them. Enthusiastic and interested readers will help motivate myself to write, so please ask questions if you got em!

That’s all for now. Story posts start on Sunday - I’ll be using the hashtag #Stolen Sword to mark them all (if you want to mute it - or read along!). If you’ve not read any of my writing before, some of it is on my other blog, @pageadaytale.

Working title is Stolen Sword, and it’s a fantasy story of dragons, witches, prophesies and dying to save the world.

2 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 20:57:58 GMT

#4

There's still a couple hours of the Glorious 25th left, so take two of my favorite passages from Night Watch:

4 notes • Posted 2021-05-25 20:55:57 GMT

#3

I have just gotten into the Discworld series, mostly because of Neil Gaiman's love and admiration for his dearly departed friend. I find them delightful and thought provoking. What is your favorite? I've read 4 so far. Also did you read them in publication order, or jump around?

Omg thank you for the question!

I tend to jump around when I read them, partly because I find some of the early ones difficult to get into but mainly because I love the City Watch books. I'm tempted to say my favourite is Night Watch, but I think I'm going to go for Men At Arms, for two reasons:

1) It's still early enough in the Watch series that Vimes is a plucky underdog;

2) The final confrontation against the villain is a homage to For a Few Dollars More, which is an absolutely brilliant film.

There are other reasons: I like the running theme of "personal isn't the same as important", and Vimes is at his best when he's actively opposing Vetinari's plans (or being not-so-subtly reverse-psychologied into carrying them out). There's some early-installment weirdness from Carrot, but also in this book he gets to demonstrate his cunning and Charisma whilst still policing by the book.

Anyway, I love the City Watch series and I recommend everyone read them bc they're brilliant stories, but they're also the platonic ideal of how policing should work - keeping the peace, rather than acting on the whims of a ruling elite.

5 notes • Posted 2021-11-16 17:33:01 GMT

#2

Lithuania and Iceland are what happen when you let nerds become internationally-recognised musicians.

5 notes • Posted 2021-05-22 20:29:08 GMT

#1

Ankh-Morpork: A Peaceful Transition of Power

Lately I’ve been wondering what happens when Vetinari dies.

The Disc still spins, borne ever onwards through space on the backs of four elephants who themselves stand on the shell of Great A’Tuin, the World Turtle, but what happens to Ankh-Morpork?

I don’t think riots, or a power vacuum - Lord Vetinari is too clever by half for that, he’s planned for this eventuality. There will be no struggle, no civil war; there will be a peaceful transition, and the city will continue to work.

My first thought was, “It’s obvious! Captain Carrot will take his rightful place as King!” But I can’t see that happening. For one, Carrot knows who he is and he has no desire to take up that role. For another, a King taking the throne of Ankh-Morpork would be such a world-shaking event that, much like the death of Granny Weatherwax, everyone across the Disc would feel it.

And I thought about everything we’ve learned about Vetinari through the City Watch books, and everything we’ve seen, and another thought struck me.

Who better to take over from Vetinari, than the kid who’s learned from the one who learned from the man himself?

Young Sam probably doesn’t go into the watch, at least not for a long time. It’s not that his dad wouldn’t approve - of course he would, following in his footsteps! - it’s just that it seems... unbecoming, the son of the Duke of Ankh a watchman. And sure, the Duke himself was a watchman, he commanded the Watch! But that’s... different. The Duke’s son should be lounging in carriages and waving to the people, or hobnobbing with the guild leaders at galas; he shouldn’t be skulking around in the shadows on a rainy night, feeling the cobbles through the soles of his shoes!

But Stoneface put his foot down on some things. Young Sam went to a regular school rather than the Assassin’s Guild, And of course it was at his father’s insistence that he spent a year as constable when he was old enough. But the family’s connections become his connections, and suddenly there’s a kid in the Watch who speaks to Lord and Lady Selachii with the same easy tone that he negotiates with Chrysoprase.

And before you know it, there’s a kid in Ankh-Morpork who knows the city better than anyone, and who knows everyone who’s anyone. And more importantly, who knows what makes people tick, in the deepest recesses of their heart...

I wonder if Vetinari realised, when he first made Vimes Sir Samuel. I wonder if he knew he was putting the pieces together to train his replacement.

144 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 07:37:07 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[liesoverthec]

Hi B!!!

I'm not a lone star fan either and am also new to Tumblr so I wanted to ask you how to block tags? I can't seem to figure it out

Hi anon!

I’ve been on Tumblr for I think 10ish years now and I only learned like 2 years ago when my ex roommate (fuck you to Robin wherever she is 😂) taught me so no pressure if you couldn’t figure it out and I’m happy to pass the knowledge on!

Okay so I’ve only ever done it on mobile, but I believe the concept is similar on desktop. I can also do a tutorial for that if you’d like, but for now we’ll do mobile!

First go to your profile (little person in the bottom right of your app), and then go to settings (circled here).

From there, click the first option which is ‘General settings’.

Then part of the way down, one before the ‘Legal’ section, you’ll see ‘Filtering’.

Then you can just hit ‘New’ and add a filter!

Two important things to know - you can filter tags, and you can filter content.

When you filter tags, Tumblr is solely looking at what people who have reblogged that post have tagged it as. And it’s super literal: it only blocks tags that you’ve specifically put in. So for example, if you block ‘buck buckley’, you’re still going to get posts that are tagged with ‘buck’, ‘evan buckley’ any combination BESIDES ‘buck buckley’. This is important if you’re looking to block LS specifically bc everyone on my dash tagged it differently - so I had to block “lone star” and “lonestar” bc one had a space and one didn’t. (And then like 45 other combos to catch everything.)

The other thing you can do is filter content - which means Tumblr is going through the body of the post itself and looking for keywords you’ve told it to block. This is great bc a lot of times people just won’t tag things! So you can block entire topics this way. Only downside is that it will block those words if they’re in someone’s url. So I have “Tarlos” content blocked and it means that even if the post itself has nothing to do w that ship, if the creator of it has Tarlos in their url, it’ll block it on my dash. So that one is simultaneously v useful but also you can end up missing some stuff.

You’ll find the spot to filter content just below the spot where you add the tags you want to filter.

And then when you’re done, posts on your dash that you want filtered should look like this!

And it’s great for things beyond just “I don’t like this” - I love the TV show Leverage, and they recently released the second half of the reboot series. I couldn’t watch it right away, and I didn’t want to unfollow the blogs I followed that post it, so I just filtered a couple terms related to the show, and bam! No spoilers.

You can delete a filter at any time by swiping right on the filter in the same place you just added them, so you can add or remove them to your heart’s content! 😊

Let me know if you have any other questions, I’m happy to do my best to help!!!

-💛🐝

[ddaenggtan]

forever rain | knj | m

Being dead isn't anything exciting. Just a lot of walking the same halls of the same apartment day after day after day. Things change when the new tennant arrives, though. Kim Namjoon isn't anything you could have expected; not the way he's so careful and gentle with his plants because he breaks so many other things, not the way his friends joke that he's psychic because you refuse to let him get in the face one time, and certainly not the way he comes home after literal months spent moving things away from table edges for him and announces that he knows he's being haunted and he has some questions for you. You didn't know ghosts could fall in love, but he makes you feel alive again, like you're standing in the rain while thunder crashes around you. You should've known nothing good would come of falling in love with someone living, though. You should've known that heartbreak was the only way this could end...that the rain doesn't last forever. 

part of the Love Yourself Collab, please please please go check out the other fics. Everyone involved is so freaking talented and I have been vibrating out of my skin with how excited I’ve been to read all of these. 

pairing | kim namjoon x reader (unspecified gender, even!)

word count | 18.8k | cross posted to ao3

genre/warnings | ghost!reader, slight fluff, hard angst, literally the most angst ever it gets fluffy for a bit but litERALLY this is an angst fic, major character death, unprotected sex (idk what the etiquette for ghost sex is but you should still wrap it before you tap it fam), depictions of terminal illness (v mild), mentions of blood (several, but not graphic), major character death, allusions to violence, namjoon is a klutz whats new, depictions of terminal illness, major character death, i added that tag three times pls dont read this if you aren’t comf with mcd bc i literally tagged it three times so y’all would definitely see it, also probably have some tissues ready bc i cried while writing it so 

a/n | this is, to date, the saddest thing i have ever written in my entire fucking life. formal apologies to this joon bc oh my god you poor soul. i’m not kidding when i say you might cry, because i’m a big baby wuss and cried while writing the fucking outline when i first decided to write this for the collab so like......rip my own heart. i was really honored when i was approached about the LYA collab, bc like,,,,,mE? WHAT? and i was really nervous because i’ve never been part of any collabs in any fandom ever, and to have to do something like forever rain and mono as a whole justice, like,,,,,,, *screaming* y’know?? so i went on mono lockdown and just had the whole thing on repeat and was like “alright. what emotions does this make me feel.” and i eventually settled on the loneliness and isolation that he expresses, and feeling like no one understands what you’re going through, but that ultimately the album as a whole and forever rain give off this feeling of like. things get better, you’re not as alone as you feel, and you just gotta get through the bad stuff to find the good stuff. basically i just got really in my feels about it and was like ‘lets make myself cry ahahaha’ and,,,i dID i cried several times while planning and writing and editing bc im a Soft Bitch and don’t read much angst for that exact reason lmao. so buckle tf up y’all, this a helluva ride!! 

Of all the things you'd heard about death, all the different possibilities that existed in the world, the one thing you hadn't been prepared for was the boredom. You hadn't been prepared for any of it, really, too surprised by your own demise to plan at all, but even if you'd been able to, you don't think that this is what you would've counted on. An eternity - or however long ghosts existed - of being stuck in the same studio apartment you'd lived in when you died. The same walls, the same floor, the same view out the only window of the alley beside the building. It's boring and lonely and boring.

You've found more creative ways to entertain yourself as time passes. First, you started by figuring out just what being a ghost meant. You can't really communicate with anyone, haven't figured out how to make sure everything you say is heard, but you can manipulate objects pretty easily these days. The most difficult thing is becoming fully corporeal - completely visible and able to interact with things at the same time. It's hard enough to be visible, and you aren't really sure what the point of it would be when it would just scare whoever's living in your apartment; that's the last thing you want to do, run them off when they're the best source of amusement you've found.

You won't lie, you were a little offended when the first tenants moved in after you. It was difficult to watch your things get packed up and moved out by your friends, hard to lose all of the little things you loved in your apartment, like the shitty bead curtain you'd gotten as a gag gift or the photo collage of all of your loved ones. It's frustrating to not know how they're all doing these days; the one time you got brave enough to fuck with a laptop to check on them, you nearly broke the thing, and you haven't tried since. Still, it seemed cathartic for them to clear out your apartment, and it was a bittersweet sight, but you tried to focus on the positive side of it.

And then the couple moved in.

Not only did they fuck like rabbits - which is something you're going to stay pissed about, because there's no satisfaction to be had by you anymore, and it's the one thing you can think of that would be endlessly entertaining - but the couple was also grossly obnoxious. They had zero respect for your apartment , or you, and while one could argue that they didn't actually know you were there, it still made the sting of losing your entire life that much worse. You spent you don't know how many nights hovering awkwardly in the bathroom while they fucked, would constantly wander in to see them going at it on the kitchen counter at ass o'clock in the morning, and once you came in to see them tossing actual literal eggs at the ceiling like the absolute fucking weirdos they were.

So, naturally, you got a little mad. How dare they treat your apartment like that? They had no respect, but they were going to learn it real quick if they were going to live there with you, whether they wanted to or not.

They didn't last long after the first night of slamming cabinets and squealing hinges, but the thrown picture frame of their family was the conclusive end to their stay.

There have been others, since then. They haven't all been terrible, not like that first couple, but most of them have been sub-par roommates, and if you decided early on that if the rest of your immortal life is going to be locked in one shitty apartment with the absolute worst view in the city - because no one wants to see the drunken hookups and potential body dumps that take place in that alley - then you're at least going to share said apartment with someone nice to exist with.

You release a heavy sigh, staring at where your hand disappears through the shower wall. You've taken to testing the boundaries of the apartment again; you already know what the result will be, learned in the first few hours that you're stuck here, but you can't help trying when you get really bored. You just got distracted fucking around with the pipes in the meantime, because you're literally too bored to even focus. It's part of why you miss the last tenants so much, because you weren't ever really bored with them around.

A single mother and her two kids, crammed into a much-too-small apartment because it was all they could afford, and they were the light of your un-life. One a budding teenager that wrote angsty poetry who loved your trick of making things float around, and one an adorable toddler who adored playing peekaboo with you and coloring, and a mom that was too busy to notice anything out of the ordinary. It was like having a family again, made you feel useful when you could pull the meat out of the freezer for her to make dinner with or scratch a quick 'do your homework' on a steamy bathroom mirror. It was fun and it made being dead that much more bearable.

You really should've known that letting the toddler draw the two of you would be a bad idea, especially since there were several artistic liberties taken. It's not your fault the kid thought you'd look cool with fangs and bloody holes instead of eyes and claws that reached the floor. It was art, it was supposed to be a little different from reality. Still, you can't blame her for seeing the picture of her kid and 'my new best friend' and immediately calling the landlord. And a priest.

So, perhaps you gave the apartment a bit of a reputation. Maybe it's been a couple of months since the mom moved out and took your two buds with her. There might be the possibility that you've been the slightest bit salty about losing your friends and you've been extra-ghost-y whenever someone comes by to view the place in an attempt to make yourself feel a little better. Can you really be blamed for that? You just want a decent damn roommate for your life after death, and if that means putting the potentials through a little bit of a test, then so be it. You only feel a little bit bad for the landlord.

The creak of the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and the echo of a voice makes you narrow your eyes. Your first instinct is to slam some windows to scare off whoever's in your apartment, but you repress the urge. You'd die of boredom if you could die again, and whoever this is could provide a few hours' entertainment at the least.

You pop your head through the bathroom wall to see what's going on, and wow , who let an actual giant into your apartment? Fucking with the pipes could definitely wait for this guy.

"I know it's last minute, yeah," He says into the phone that's held carefully between his cheek and shoulder. His arms are loaded down with boxes and he's angled away from you just enough that you can't see his face, but he's tall and broad and wearing what looks like the world's comfiest sweater, and you want to badly to wrap yourself up in him. "But you know Joon needs the help. Don't pretend you aren't constantly willing to put off your thesis, I know for a fact that you went out to look at stationery with Tae last week, and everyone knows that's the most boring thing on the planet."

He's quiet, listening to the soft crackle of a voice from the other end. You slide through the wall completely, hovering as close as you dare to try and hear what the other person is saying. Tall, Broad, and Comfy scoffs.

"He can stare at one sheet of paper for at least ten minutes, Yoongi. Do I need to remind you of the time he spent an entire fucking hour debating which set of holiday scrapbook to buy because, and I quote, 'this one has the really nice rose pattern on it that would look great with the invitations, but, oh, look at the pinstripes in this one!'" His voice morphs into what you guess is an approximation of whoever Tae is, and you laugh at the high-pitched, nasally tone.

Tall and Broad spins, eyes narrowing as he looks around the room, and fuck , he's literally gorgeous. You've never seen someone more attractive in your life or your death and it would probably knock the wind out of you if you actually had breath. Comfy McGorgeous turns back around and sets the stack of boxes in the corner, continuing his tirade about Tae and stationery while simultaneously trying to talk Yoongi into coming, you assume, to help Joon move. You don't know who any of these people are, but they're already proving to be the most entertaining bunch that's ever graced these walls.

The door to your apartment flies open, making both you and Boyfriend Material whip your head around.

"Christ, Jin, you couldn't hold the fucking door open for us?" Someone grunts. Beauty Von Softness - or, Jin, as you should probably refer to him - winces and strides over to do just that as two more guys stagger in with a couch suspended between them. The second they're in the door they drop it to the ground and flop onto it, panting and sweaty.

"Listen, I was busy trying to get our resident hermit out of his cave to help us carry some of this shit," Jin spits back. "And you all know what it's like getting him out and about."

"Did you tell him that there's pizza after we're done? Because I've found that food is the best motivator for him," the guy closest to the door says. His hair is soft-looking and long and you wish you could pet it.

The other guy, the one who cursed Jin out and has the softest pink hair you've ever seen, laughs. "Jeongguk, you always think the best motivator is food."

"Well, yeah, because it is."

"For you, maybe. Other people require actual rewards."

"But food is a reward," Jeongguk mutters into the fabric of the couch. Jin tsks and smacks As Yet Unnamed on the back of the head.

"You're lucky I hung up on him when you bombarded your way into this place, or he'd definitely not come help us," Jin says as he leans against the back of the couch.

Unnamed starts to say something else but is cut off by someone running straight into the end of the couch. They all shoot to their feet, spouting apologies as the three of them maneuver the couch into the apartment properly.

"Sorry, sorry, Jimin distracted us from properly finishing our job," Jeongguk says quickly. He looks to the stranger with a small apologetic smile, and you're pretty sure if it were humanly possible, there would be actual literal stars in his eyes.

"Oh, it's okay, Jeonggukkie. I should've been looking where I was going." New Challenger walks straight towards where you stand, and you realize seconds before it's too late that he is not aware there is a massive stack of boxes in his path. Instinctively, you shove them to the side with your foot. Tall And Oblivious sets his boxes down without any trouble, none the wiser about any of it, and the three near the couch are too busy bickering in hushed whispers to have noticed you doing anything.

The newcomer straightens and turns to look at them all with a bright smile, and you think you might actually see The Light in the way his cheeks dimple. If you thought the other three were beautiful - which they are, no doubt about that, you're seriously wondering why the hell a bunch of supermodels are moving stuff into your apartment - then this guy is easily an Actual Fucking God or something. His brown hair is soft and shiny, his smile is warmer than the sun, and you're fairly positive that for the first time since you died, you feel goosebumps along your arms.

"Seriously, Namjoon, we should've realized you'd be up soon. You stay, start unpacking while we go get the rest of the furniture." Jimin shoves Jeongguk out the door while he's speaking, ignoring the taller's complaints, and Jin just shakes his head at the sight.

"Yoongi'll be here soon, he's finishing up another draft of his thesis. Hobi and Tae are stopping to get the pizzas and then they'll be here, too." Jin's voice is calmer than it was Jimin and Jeongguk, more soothing, and it makes you curious. Not only because of the tone change, but because you know Hobi, he owns the building and is the one who rented you the apartment when you first moved in. One of your favorite things to do is scare him when he comes by to make sure everything’s ready for a viewing.

"What? No, I said I was gonna pay for pizzas!" Namjoon looks distinctly more upset about this than someone should over not having to pay for pizza, at least in your mind, and it only makes you more curious.

"Yeah, but you also just moved out of your old apartment because it was too expensive, and had like an hour to load everything into a truck, so you're gonna let their trust fund asses pay for pizzas. We're seven adult men, and Guk could eat an entire horse and still be hungry. I'm not letting you pay for that."

Silence hangs in the apartment for a while before Namjoon gives a soft thanks to Jin. They share a smile before Jin makes his way back out. You follow each step, shadowing him all the way to the door before you're stopped. You lean your entire body forward, struggling against the invisible barrier keeping you inside, and the force of it nearly slams you back into the wall when you sag in defeat.

You aren't sure why you try anymore, but you know yourself well enough to admit that you're not going to stop until you can at least make it to the hallway.

Whatever you expected Namjoon to be like as a roommate, however unknowing he is about the situation, you don't think you could've guessed what he's actually like.

Out of the seven boys you saw the day he moved in, he's the only one living there. Not a complete surprise, considering it's a studio apartment, but you remember when there were nine people living there at one point, and there was barely room for anyone to breathe even if it had been pretty consistently amusing. Still, for one person, he's got a ton of stuff, and it's a shock it all fits. His bed is massive and comfortable and the best place to lay during the day because it's shoved between the brick half-wall and the large windows that take up one wall. The area's supposed to be for a dining table, you think, but you'd had your bed there, too, and the familiarity is nice.

His couch is small and old but manages to fit five of them, and it's a pleasantly jarring difference from the coffee table that looks like - and might actually be - an old steamer trunk. The exposed brick wall you love holds his mounted TV, a feat that took Jeongguk and Yoongi a solid hour and a half because they kept stripping the screws, and it's got one of those 8-cubicle bookshelf things under it that stores a frankly obnoxious amount of books.

He's got mugs for days, an adorable if odd collection of figurines and mini-statues scattered around the apartment, a strange obsession with some reclaimed wood shelf he's got hanging above his bed, but the absolute highlight of it all is The Wall.

It took them three hours to get it installed and set up the way he wanted, between the placements and the thick wooden shelf they’re perched on with supports and a small safety bar along the edge to keep them from falling off, but along the entire windowed wall and partway after it turns the corner runs a long shelf absolutely covered in plants. There are some elsewhere, like the one he keeps hanging from the bathroom ceiling and the couple in the kitchen, but most are on The Wall. Each one is in its own special pot, each a unique color with a name painted carefully along it, and most of them look half-dead. They're all distinct and unique from each other and they all surely have different needs and ideal conditions, but you'd never guess because Namjoon is so wholly committed to them all. He takes time every day to water them and prune them if he needs to, he checks on them constantly. He even reinforced the safety bar for the ones that sit beside his bed, so there was less chance he'd accidentally knock them around while sleeping.

It's fascinating, watching him tend to them. He's so careful and gentle, with absolute precision in every moment. He cares for his plants the way some people would care for a pet or a child. He doesn’t believe any of them are past caring for, slowly nurses all of them back to health and frequently turns up with more he’s saved from some department store. The most endearing thing, though, you decide as you sit curled among the haphazard blankets of his bed and watch, is the talking. It's every day, for as long as it takes him to care for the plants, and it's the cutest thing in the world. He's talking to some succulent as you just stare at him, filling the comfortable silence of the apartment with his soft, soothing voice, and you wish he could hear you when you talk back to him.

"I know they mean well, but at some point, I've just gotta live my own life, y'know? I can't study something just because everyone expects me to, and I can't pursue some dream just because people think I'd be good at it. I've gotta do what's right for me, don't I?" His tone is positive and bright, a contrast to the gloomy sky that casts shadows across the apartment.

You float over, hovering beside him to look at the plant he's lovingly stroking with his thumb. It's in a pretty periwinkle pot, with the name 'Mang' painted in careful but shaky black handwriting. It's not your favorite - that's the one in the bathroom that hangs over its light blue bowl, a quickly scrawled 'Koya' on the bottom - but it seems to be one of Namjoon's personal favorites based on how often he talks to it specifically.

"I think it's nice you do things for yourself," You tell him. He doesn't react, unable to hear you, but it's nice to hear your own voice after so long. You slide one of the plants - Chim, in a small yellow bowl - to the side and away from his elbow, and he doesn't notice. "You know yourself better than they do. You should trust yourself."

He keeps mumbling to Mang, something about everyone following their own dreams and doing what they need over what people want or expect, when you lay your hand over his.

Thunder cracks through the sky and the first raindrops hits the window as your non-existent skin hits his, and it's the most real thing you've felt in a long time. It's as if the scent of ozone and electricity is in the apartment itself, crackling in your hair and filling your nose with the overpowering scent of the sweet summer rain. You can almost feel the water hit your skin, the way the wind whips at your hair, and it's so intoxicating that you almost miss the sharp inhale from the man beside you.

He's not looking at his plant when you look up, but instead at the window in front of the two of you. You glance at it, and for a fraction of a second, you can see yourself in the reflection. The glimpse has you jerking towards it before you can stop yourself, desperate to know if something has changed. You haven't seen your reflection since you died, not in the mirror or the window or the toaster, and maybe, just maybe, it means something's changed.

Your hand stops against the glass of the window as you reach forward. You can't feel the cool of it under your palm, but it's no less a barrier for you as it would be for Namjoon. Something in you breaks as you watch the raindrops race each other to the ground.

"Ah, I forgot the forecast called for rain today," he mutters, eyes focused on the lightning that streaks by. He doesn't react when your fist slams against the glass, nor when you let out the scream that's been building in you for however long it's been since you died. You're so close, not even a hair's breadth from feeling something new yet familiar for the first time in so long, and you can't. You're still stuck in these four walls, unable to even reach the air outside.

You just want to feel the rain again.

You move dejectedly away from the window, ignoring the way Namjoon shivers as you pass. The temperature in the apartment has dropped considerably, you think, between the storm and your own mood. You can't tell, really. You haven't felt warm or cold or hungry or anything since you died that isn't the oppressive loneliness of life after death.

A dry sob tears itself from your throat and you hurry to hide in the bathroom as Namjoon turns to look around him. He mumbles something you can't hear and after a few minutes, he returns to tending to his plants, leaving you to your tear-less cries in peace.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that Namjoon should really have a roommate, if only to save him from himself. It takes a few weeks for you to realize this, but luckily he seems to narrate his life as he goes through it - which is overwhelmingly adorable to you, and you refuse to acknowledge that - and that means that you hear it every time he goes, "Ah, Namjoon, be more careful next time," or "Oh, shoot, that's not, fuck, I gotta buy more eggs now." It's painful to watch, even for you, and at some point, you just couldn't take it anymore. No one else is around to help, but someone needs to you, and clearly the universe means for you to be that someone.

It's a full-time job, protecting him from himself. You've saved countless mugs, pushing them farther away from the edges of counters and tables, and been just in time to shove bowls or vases an inch over so that his elbows glide harmlessly past them. It's almost exhausting, if you could get tired you would, but it's worth it, you think, as you catch the bookshelf under the TV as it tilts. You slide it gently to the floor, glad that Namjoon is distracted by how close he came to losing a toe to notice.

Because that's the other thing about this tree of a man: he's the most oblivious person you've ever fucking seen. It doesn't matter what it is you do, whether it's bouncing his spray bottle of water so it doesn't break on the hard floor or shake the counters so that the knife he's about to drop on his fucking hand falls the other way, he doesn't see a single fucking thing. You'd think he was blind if he wasn't so attentive to the way his plants grow. He notices nothing and you're glad for it because you really aren't sure what he would do if he knew you were going around haunting him just to keep him alive. You just want to help, want to keep the soft smile he wears more often around for as long as possible.

You don't dare to look into why you want that, too afraid of what you might find there.

It's also just fun to watch him and his friends, relaxed and unreserved. You never had many friends when you were alive, just a small handful that you really truly loved and whom you miss every day. Watching these seven boys fills you with nostalgia and a strange sense of joy because they really are some of the funniest people you've ever been around.

Like now, with four of them sprawled on the couch while Jeongguk and Hoseok make themselves comfortable leaning against the bookshelf under the TV - which has been bolted to the wall since it almost broke Namjoon's foot - and Namjoon watches them all from his bed since it's the only other place to sit. There are beer bottles scattered around and decorating the half-wall that separates the bed from the room proper, everyone is varying levels of drunk, and you're curled up close to Namjoon, leaning against the wall so you can stop him from knocking over any of the bottles nearby because you know him too well at this point.

"I'm just saying, I don't understand why they made him so over-powered in the new movies, because he's supposed to be some kid from Brooklyn! Giving him the high-tech suit essentially strips him of the friendly neighborhood persona that he's always relied on!" Jeongguk has been ranting for a while about the newest release in the Spiderman franchise - apparently, he's part of the actual Avengers now, which is a shock to you since the last thing you heard before you died was that the franchise was canceled until further notice or something.

"And I'm saying that if they didn't give him the suit then it would've made no sense how he was able to do those things," Yoongi responds. You're pretty sure he's just arguing to be contrary at this point, because you remember him telling Namjoon the other day that he prefers DC over Marvel.

"Garfield's Spiderman could do those things," you mutter, "And he didn't have a fancy suit."

"Okay, then how do you explain Andrew Garfield's version being able to do that stuff? He doesn't need the suit, he never has!" You preen at the way Jeongguk echoes your thoughts. "I'm telling you, I don't care how good the relationship with Holland's Spidey and Iron Man is, by giving him the tech and the advancements they did, they've undermined everything that Spiderman is supposed to be about."

"Jeongguk come off it, everyone knows Garfield's Spidey was just all bad writing. I mean, what kind of person can do all that stuff, realistically? He's the one that really needed the Stark suit." Taehyung's voice is slurred and quiet, definitely as drunk as the rest of them. 

"What-! No! I could do half of that without being bitten by a weird science spider!" Jin scoffs at Jeongguk's words. 

"Yeah, sure, Guk. The same way you can do that bottlecap challenge."

"Bottle cap challenge, and yeah, I could!" The youngest stands and you don't bother to hide your grimace. 

"This isn't going to end well, is it?" You ask. No one acknowledges you, too busy finding something Jeongguk can kick the cap off of as the boy readies himself. He's steady on his feet but his face is red and he can't seem to stop giggling. 

"If I do this, you gotta call me SpiderGuk from now on, okay?" He says. No one agrees, but it doesn't stop him from laughing again and doing a couple of roundhouse kicks to warm up. 

"Okay, okay, Joonie doesn't have any regular water bottles, but we found a screw-top beer in the fridge so ya gotta use that," Jimin says as he stumbles over with said bottle. Jeongguk just nods, an adorable focused expression on his face. Jimin holds the bottle in the air, and you can already tell his grip isn't tight enough to keep the bottle still when Jeongguk kicks it. 

The next ten seconds happen in slow-motion. Jeongguk's leg flies out to kick but his drunken body isn't able to handle the sudden shift in balance, and he slips. His foot hits the bottle slightly too low, and it goes flying out of Jimin's weak grip into the air. Everyone in the room watches as it hurtles straight towards Namjoon's face, and you react out of habit and instinct, catching it in one hand before you even realize you've moved. 

Everyone freezes, staring at where the bottle hovers in front of Namjoon's face. You're the only one able to see your fingers wrapped around it. A shock jolts through you at the realization of what you've done and you drop the bottle as if it burned you. Fuck, they were all going to freak, then Namjoon would move out and you'd be stuck alone once more. You should've just shoved him out of the way, what were you thinking, you're so fucking stupid-

"Dude," Hoseok mutters from where he's perched on the arm of the couch. "Holy shit, Joon, you're fucking telepathic." 

Yoongi rolls his eyes and smacks his chest. "Telekinetic, you fucking-"

"Holy shit, you've got fucking superpowers!" Jeongguk squeaks. "Do it again!"

Namjoon isn't even able to get a word out before there's a book flying at his face, and you panic. You can't catch it, too rushed, but you manage to deflect it so it hits the bed with a soft thump instead of braining Namjoon straight in the nose. 

"Woah, you really do have superpowers," Jimin whispers. He lobs a bottlecap at Namjoon, and you catch it in your palm before letting it drop onto the half-wall. 

"I don't have...what the fuck you guys," Namjoon insists. His eyes are as wide as saucers behind the thick glasses he has on. He looks freaked out and you want nothing more than to hug him. Your hand reaches out of its own accord, halfway closing the distance to stroke his hair before you catch yourself. 

"Hey, levitate your plants," Jin demands. Namjoon looks panicked as he glances at the wall of plants, and you heave a sigh. With any luck, they're so drunk that they'll remember this as a strange fever dream, but you can't just let them keep throwing things at him. You crawl over to the wall, avoiding Namjoon as you do, and grasp one of the plants tight. It's a white pot with red polka dots, a simple RJ on the side, and it's fucking heavy. You only get it a few inches off the shelf before you're forced to put it down.

"Oh my god, catch this!" Taehyung throws a coffee mug straight at Namjoon's head and you panic again. You catch it, and you've decided you're fucking sick of them throwing things at him, so you lob it back and dart across the room to bounce it safely to the counter before it can break. 

Everyone in the room stares at the mug and then looks back at Namjoon, who hasn't moved from his spot on the bed. 

"Oh my god, you're a superhero," Jeongguk whispers, awe in his eyes. 

"That's fucked up," Yoongi mutters, wincing when Hoseok elbows him. 

"Maybe we should get some sleep," Namjoon says quietly. The others look like they want to disagree with him, and you have no doubt they want to explore the newfound 'abilities' of their friend, but they still start gathering trash together before they head out. 

Namjoon lays awake for a long time that night, glasses folded and sitting atop the half-wall beside you. He's oblivious to the way you watch him, too lost in thought to feel the weight of your stare or the chill in the air. 

"I don't understand," He says after a while. "I really don't, but there's got to be a reason for it." He doesn't elaborate, merely turns over and evens his breathing out until he starts snoring, but you watch him for most of the night. He's fascinating, this human, and you wonder what makes him so different from the others you've met. 

He apparently decides to experiment. You've known Namjoon is intelligent since he first moved in and you saw his collectible encyclopedias, but you hadn't realized just what it would be like in actuality. 

It starts simple. He'll toss something in the air and let it clatter to the ground. Nothing big, just little things like pencils or bottlecaps, and not far, just enough that his eyes narrow as he apparently tries to use his telekinetic abilities to manipulate them. 

It slowly graduates from there. Next comes the way he stares at something across the room, hyper-focused on whatever it is until you notice and move it around for him. It's a guessing game, sometimes, trying to figure out just what he wants to move or how he wants to move it, but each time you're successful, he smiles so brightly, dimples on full display. Who wouldn't want to make him smile like that?

It's hit or miss, sometimes. You're only so strong, and while you've had a lot of practice, you still get tired. You lifted his bookshelf almost a full inch before blacking out. Next thing you knew, a couple of days had passed and Namjoon was staring at a coffee mug. That was a significantly less fun day; between losing time and having to catch coffee mug after coffee mug, you were exhausted and a little shaken. 

So when he stops staring at things for extended periods of time, when he starts to go back to reading and scrolling the internet and bingeing all the completed shows that Netflix and Amazon had to offer, you're grateful for it. He still occasionally tests it out; he's always subtle about it, choosing to stare quietly until you notice and make whatever it is float around for a minute. Once you wandered around looking for him - a feat in a studio apartment - and found him just sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at a shampoo bottle.

You'd like to say that you don't move things entirely because he wants you to. It's a good test of your abilities and how far you can push yourself until it becomes too much, and it's always nice to have actual evidence that you still exist - in some form, at least - in the world. The validation that comes from seeing him smile every time you lift a pencil or slide a coffee mug to the side, it's not for any reason but the satisfaction of knowing that you have some kind of existence. Some kind of impact on the world, even if you can't be seen and can't leave the apartment.

It's part of why you start moving things around yourself more often; you're hoping he just blames it on his overactive 'abilities' if he notices because you really aren't sure what he would think otherwise. But you also know for a fact that just seeing that you have some kind of sway over the world still - over the things inside this tiny apartment - makes you feel just that bit better about being dead.

Which is why it's such a fucking shock when the door to the apartment slams open one evening just for Namjoon to slam it closed again and announce into the air, "So I know you're haunting me, please don't try to deny it, I only want to talk to you."

You freeze where you are, halfway through the closet door from where you were reorganizing his clothes because they made no sense and you were bored. He's looking around the apartment, almost desperate in the way he's searching, and you can't bring yourself to move. It's obvious he can't see you, and you aren't even sure if he's being serious, but the way he huffs and clenches his jaw before moving into the kitchen tells you that he probably is.

You follow him, curious, and watch as he pulls a small package out of his bag and starts ripping it open. You float the remains of what looks like gift wrap over to the trashcan, because you know Namjoon will forget, before going back to watching him. He's only a little careful as he cracks something in his hands and then slaps it onto the fridge, and you peek around him to see that it's some kind of words or something. There’s a wide variety, with no clear theme to them, as well as at least one of each letter of the alphabet. It's then you remember the throwaway comment Yoongi made during that night - "You need, like, poetry stuff, like those magnets that go on the fridge that people write that deep shit with, y'know? I'm gonna buy you one," - and realize that he'd followed through on his vow. 

"Alright," Namjoon says, leaning against his kitchen counter and staring at the magnets. "First and foremost, am I really being haunted or is this some kind of hallucination?" His gaze never falters, doesn’t ever drift from the magnetic words now spread across his fridge doors. It takes several minutes to build up the energy and the courage to move closer to the fridge.

You don't look at him as you move the words around, but you can hear the sharp intake of breath. That's likely all the confirmation that he needs, but still you clear a spot and let the words ' I am here ' sit where he can see them clearly. You wrinkle your nose, disliking how formal it sounds, but you have to make do, you suppose.

"Okay," Namjoon breathes. "Okay, prove it. My brain could work this into a hallucination. How do I know you're really a ghost?"

"Seriously?" You huff. "What the fuck am I supposed to do that wouldn't work into a hallucination, dude?"

He gets fidgety in the few minutes that you spend wondering how the fuck you're going to prove that you're a real actual ghost to someone who clearly doesn't believe in them. His foot taps at the floor and he scratches at his hand, which only makes you want to wrap your own hands around his until he stops, much like your best friend used to lay her legs across your lap to get you to stop shaking your knee.

The realization comes in a flash, and you're moving letters around before you can stop yourself.

Face book, Park Jihyo, best friend.

Namjoon stares at it for a long while before he brings his phone out of his pocket and begins to tap at the screen. You don't get too close; you've got a history with shorting out electronics, and you aren't sure you want to know what your best friend is up to without you there with her.

"Okay," Namjoon says. "Okay, I've never seen her before, so I don't think my brain could work her into a hallucination. Okay. Alright. I'm being haunted. This is fine."

"Calm down, I'm haunting the apartment, not you." He doesn't react to your words, as usual, but it still makes you feel the slightest bit better. He stares at his phone for a little longer, and the curiosity burns under your skin, but you resist. You know from experience that if you try to get too close, his phone will stop working. Just like TV, the stereo, the laptops, everything. You've had enough experience with that kind of thing to know what will happen.

"Okay, Casper," Namjoon huffs out after several minutes of waiting. He looks up and his eyes dart around the apartment, and you wonder if he's just nervous or if he's trying to spot you. "Where are you right now? Can you make yourself visible? I mean, I know you're a ghost, but it feels rude not talking to you to your face."

You huff a laugh but reach for a coffee cup. You know you can't just make yourself visible at will; you've only done it a couple of times, to your knowledge, and none of them have been on purpose. It's even more difficult to make yourself corporeal and physical, harder than just manipulating objects, but you did it once. Back when the single mom still lived here, when her toddler was falling and you had no way to cushion the fall except with your own body; you still aren't sure how it happened, but you remember being able to feel the floor against your back and the warmth of the baby on top of you for a split second before you were gone again. You won't forget that any time soon.

You float the mug towards where you stand, holding it in front of your face long enough that when you pull it away, Namjoon's eyes don't follow it. It's a strange feeling; you know he can't see you, can tell by the way his brow furrows and his eyes slide around the space, but it feels like he's looking straight at you. It feels like you're being seen for the first time since you died.

"So, where are you from, Casper?" His tone is forcibly conversational, as if he's trying his best to keep himself calm. You roll your eyes and move the magnets to show ' here ' and he nods. "You're not gonna try to possess me, or kill me, or run me off, are you? No offense or anything. I figure you would've already at this point, but...cover my bases."

No. Am nice. I think.

"You think? You don't know if you're a nice ghost?"

Does anyone truly know if they are nice? You frown, trying to figure out how to say what you want to say with the limited words available. I can only try. It's still not perfect; there's more that you want to say, more that you want to be heard, but this has to do for now.

"I can accept that. Alright. Just talking to a ghost in my kitchen. Okay. This is totally normal." He rubs a hand over his face, and you're a little impressed. Everyone else that's lived here has freaked when presented with the knowledge that you're a ghost. Namjoon looks very much like his world is exploding, but he doesn't have the same fear and apprehension in his eyes. He's certainly coping better than the single mom.

"Are you the only ghost? Here, I mean, are you the only ghost here?" He breathes a sigh of relief at your 'yes.’ "Can you see other ghosts? Do you know any other ghosts?" The 'don't know, no' that you move around on your fridge seems to unsettle him a little, but there's a curiosity burning behind it that makes your skin tingle.

Can't leave, is what you say next, cutting off whatever question he was about to ask.

"You can't leave at all? The building, or the apartment?"

The second.

"Wow. You're really stuck here?" He looks around the apartment as if seeing it for the first time and sucks in a breath. "What do you do all day?"

Watch. He cocks a brow. You are... You hesitate. The word you need isn't there, everything that comes to you is too poetic or corny for you to actually say, but the weight of his eyes is heavy on your hands. Fun is what you settle on, but it's not right either. 'Interesting' isn't there, nor is 'fascinating' or 'lovely,' and you don't want to scare him off by telling him that part of the reason you watch him so much is that he's so full of life that you feel less dead when he's around.

He laughs at your words though and shakes his head ever so slightly. "Alright, well, I'm gonna shower, so just, don't...watch that?" You squawk at the insinuation that you would, quickly rearranging the letters to spell ' privacy' and making a large angry face out of the rest of the words. He's already turned away, though, and it makes you angrier.

You don't want him thinking that you would peep at him. You already make sure that you're facing the windows when he finishes showering, you've been determined to not be creepy since the day he moved in, and to have him think otherwise is like a slap in the face. You slam the mug against the counter and he startles, turning to gape at it. You carry it to where your words and make-do emoji sit waiting for him to notice them.

"Okay," He says quickly. "Okay, privacy, yeah, got it. You respect my privacy. Appreciated."

"How fucking rude," You mutter as you set the mug back down. You don't adjust the magnets as he disappears into the bathroom. You want him to see them, want him to be reminded of the fact that being dead doesn't mean you don't have basic decency.

You can't get him to shut up now that he knows you're there. He still forgets sometimes, mostly when he's talking to his plants or narrating the way he carefully constructs some origami creation, but more often than not, he's talking to thin air. He spends a lot of time perched on his counter, watching you move magnets around his fridge through the thick lenses of his glasses before he spouts off some other question for you to answer. 

He covers the basics first: how old you were when you died, when your birthday is, your favorite color, what you were studying in school, and of course your name, though he insists on calling you Casper. You aren't sure why but you also don't get a chance to question it, because he hits you with more and more questions every day. Sometimes you don't answer because you can't, too limited by the poetry magnets to be able to really converse; sometimes you just don't have the energy to move the magnets around, but those are days are rare. The only times you use the tired magnet are when you find your limbs too heavy to move, weighed down with the memories of what it meant to be alive. 

Those are the bad days, but his questions make them just a little easier.

"How do you move around? Do you just float everywhere?" Walking, but different. No weight. Soft.

"How are you able to manipulate things in my world? Are they different from things in your world?" Focus. Takes time. Same.

"Do you sleep at all? Do ghosts dream?" No sleep. Just existing.

"You don't eat, do you? Should I be stocking up on snacks for you?" No. Save your sustenance. "What was the last thing you ate?" Don't remember. "Huh. I hope it was something good." Same.

"Were you ever in a relationship?" Once. A long time before. "Do you miss them?" Not anymore.

"What did you do while you were alive?" School. "Oh, really? Do you remember what you studied?" Boring. Important then, but it made me forget to live. Not important now. Namjoon goes quiet for a long moment after this one, staring out the window at something you can't see. He nods but doesn't ask any more questions, and he reads for the rest of the night.

It only takes a couple of weeks for both you and Namjoon to get tired of standing in his kitchen fucking around on the fridge. His legs get tired and he gets distracted by his thoughts, and you can barely keep up with the rapid-fire questions you get.

So Namjoon buys one of those cheap cookie sheets with the slightest lip at the edge and dumps the magnets on that. He leaves it on the coffee table, usually, there for you to pick up if he asks something but out of the way for when he stretches out to nap lazily in the afternoon sun.

You like the cookie sheet more than the fridge. He watches you as you work out your responses, can see the way you start to move one word before moving another instead; it makes it feel more like a conversation.

It becomes a favorite pass-time of Namjoon's, curling on the couch and putting some sort of music on in the background and just talking to you. A lot of nights his questions stop with a lingering silence from one or both of you; yours because you don't have the ability to share the words running rampant through your mind, and his for reasons still unknown to you. Still, you've missed it. You've missed talking to someone, being heard when you speak, having someone ask how you are at the end of the day.

It's the little things.

"You said you can't leave, right, Casper?" Namjoon's curled up on his couch, tucked into the arm with a blanket thrown over his lap, a mug of something warm in his hands to combat the chill of the season, and some R&B track playing lightly from his phone. You knock your fist against the cookie once - a sign for yes that you'd both agreed on. "So, are you just always here then? You don't go anywhere else?"

"Fuck, how do I explain this?" You mutter. You stare at the magnets in front of you for a long time before rearranging them. Not always. Tired sometimes, disappear.

"Disappear?" He reads. "What do you mean? You just, what, stop existing?"

Don't know, you respond. Only happens when tired. When used too much of me. He hums an acknowledgment, eyes focused on where the cookie sheet sits on the couch between you. You? What entertains you?

"Everything," he answers without hesitation. "I'm trying to work through my stack of books I want to read and finish all the shows I'm interested in, but the guys would have my head if I didn't get out and do things like a normal person."

That's where you leave to?

"Yeah." He sets his mug - now empty - on the coffee table and settles into the blankets. He looks cozy and soft and you would wrap yourself up with him if you could. "I take a lot of walks, and bike rides. I like to see the river, the trees, all the animals that live there. The beach is always fun, I get to see all the crabs and whatnot that wander in and out of the ocean."

"I wish I could go with you," you whisper.

Fun is what you spell on your sheet.

"I guess," he mutters. "It's enjoyable, at least. I'll bring you some souvenirs, or pictures next time."

You let the sheet settle on the couch as he turns the TV on, setting up a drama that he's on recently. He doesn't say anything else for a few hours, waits until the sound of rain hits the windows and stifles the apartment in an otherworldly haze.

"How long have you been dead?" His voice lingers in the air. You've been expecting these questions, and you're honestly impressed he's held them back for as long as he has. That angsty teen hadn't hesitated a single second to start asking you questions.

A while. Years. I think .

"Do you ever get tired of being a ghost?" There's something in his voice that you can't place, something that tells you this is more than just his usual morbid curiosity. Every part of your soul - whatever's left of it, anyway - is screaming at you to lie to him, to tell him that no, being a ghost is great. You've never wished he could hear you more than this moment, when all you want to is wrap your arms around him and ask him why he looks so much older than he is.

Sometimes, you tell him. It is lonely here, and boring. Fun to be unseen, but unable to do much more.

He nods like that makes all the sense in the world to him, and he brings the blanket up around his shoulders. "Do you ever miss your friends, or your family?"

Would you not? He huffs out an unamused chuckle, nodding again.

"Yeah," He says softly. "Yeah, I would. Do you want me to help you check on them? See what they're up to?" The single knock that echoes in the room is deafening to you, filled with a hope that you haven't felt in years. You've never let yourself think about them for long; if you did, you don't think you'd be able to come back from whatever that place is that you disappear to when things become Too Much.

Namjoon pulls his phone closer and starts fiddling with it. He doesn't hesitate when he types in your name, and you feel an emotional blush fill you when you see that he doesn't even have to finish typing for your profile to pop up. You glance at him, the way his brows are furrowed behind his glasses and his tongue pokes into his cheek just a little while he concentrates, and you wonder how many times he's looked at the pictures of you when you were alive. How many times has he scrolled through, reading the words people shared after you were gone, scrolling through the grief and loss to get to the words you posted yourself, the little snippets of your daily life that you would give anything to be able to relive?

"Do I still look like that?" You wonder aloud. As expected, he doesn't react, just continues tapping at his phone.

You two spend the rest of the night like that, each curled at opposite ends of the couch while Namjoon slowly looks up your friends and family and updates you on each of them. Jihyo got married, to someone she'd gone on a date with a few weeks before you passed, and she's apparently trying to start having kids; Your mother and father aren't very active, but they never were. They both share pictures of you when you were a baby each year on your birthday, and more recent photos of you on the anniversary. They have a dog now. It's cute. You wonder if it helps them cope with the loss.

Your other friends are doing well, too; most of them are still figuring out their lives, but it seems like all of them are settling in their skin and finding comfort in who they are. They're out there, navigating the world and doing things they enjoy, meeting new friends and making new memories.

You stand by the window for a long time, cookie sheet of magnetized words pressed against your chest as if you can feel the cool of the metal against your skin, and watch rain drip down the panes as you imagine what your life could have been.

You can always hear Namjoon before you see him. He whistles as he walks down the sidewalk, his small way of letting you know he's on his way back from wherever he's gone that day, and today isn't an exception. Relief sags through you and you move away from the windows, let your fingers trail against the ceramic of the newest succulent he'd bought, and head towards the kitchen. The kettle is turned on and heating a few moments later while you pull a mug down from your cabinet and set it carefully on the counter where Namjoon will see it.

It's a regular routine, for the two of you. He heads out, usually in the early morning after turning on some music or a show for you, and when he comes back, you make sure there's hot water for his tea or cocoa or whatever he feels like drinking that day. The sound of his whistling gets louder the closer he gets, a simple way to let you know he's safe and he's home. You glance through the cabinets and quickly make a note on the fridge that he needs to buy more of his special tea blend soon.

The lock turns and you smile, waiting patiently as Namjoon saunters into the apartment. He sets something down on the kitchen counter just as the kettle starts to scream, and you wait while he pours the water and gets it ready.

"The cherry blossoms bloomed," He says. You grin. "They look great. I got some really nice pictures while I was there, I'll show you tonight. I was thinking we could try to finish Voltron tonight if you want. We'll have to go back an episode though, I think I fell asleep during the last one." You knock once against the counter beside you, and he turns with a wide grin to glance at the spot where you stand.

It's ridiculous for your heart to speed up in your chest, for the hair on the back of your neck to rise, for breath to catch in your throat; you don't have a heartbeat, you don't have breath, you're a shadow of the person you used to be, and yet...

And yet, seeing his dimpled smile focused so naturally on where you are, as if it's just second-nature, is like a breath of fresh air after years underwater. It smells like flowers, like dirt and earth and a new beginning. It feels like you're alive again, and you don't want it to end, but too soon he's turning away to finish steeping the tea. Something lingers in the air for a moment after but it's gone too soon for you to place it.

You both settle on the couch, Namjoon tucking whatever he brought home with him under his arm, between his body and the arm of his ratty old couch. Your cookie sheet is in its place on the coffee table, unneeded at the moment. You can't help the glare that you give it; the things you would give to be able to just speak and be heard are endless.

It rattles a little and you look away.

Namjoon is quiet as the show plays. He doesn't react when you move to turn the oven on, but he does laugh quietly and thank you for it when he goes to put his dinner in. He eats and you don't bother him, though the way he keeps his little package hidden away makes curiosity burn through you. Eventually, once he's eaten and washed his dishes and laughed at the way you rubbed them dry before setting them carefully in their places, he settles back into his blankets and turns on the music he loves so much.

He's got a book balanced in his hands and your cookie sheet rests on the coffee table, and you both just sit like that for a long while, enjoying existing.

"You remember your life, right Casper?" You thump lazily against the wall in response, eyes drawn from where you watch the gloomy sky slowly get lighter with the dawn. He isn't looking at his book anymore; he probably hasn't been for a while, based on the way the pages have migrated around his thumb, too busy staring at the wall across from him. "Do you remember your death?"

You hesitate. You've tiptoed around the subject before. He's always been too afraid to ask directly, and it's too painful for you to offer it freely. You thump against the wall once more, and he nods like he already knew the answer.

"Are they very different?" His glasses are falling down his nose and your fingers itch to push them up. Instead, you reach for your cookie sheet. He makes a sound in the back of his throat when he sees it moving, reaching under him for his package. "I forgot, I got you this. Thought it might be easier."

He sets it down and you slide the contents out of the wrapping easily. Inside is a small dry-erase board, complete with markers and eraser, small things that should be easy for you to manipulate. You beam at him; he can't see it, but you think he might be able to feel it because he perks up and smiles a little.

"You don't have to answer," He adds. "I was just curious to know if being dead is really as different as everyone makes it out to be." You nod and thump once against the board before you uncap a marker and start writing.

It's a bizarre feeling, after so long. The muscles in your hand don't ache, no matter how much you write, and you can't feel the smooth surface of the board under your fingers or the weight of the marker in your palm, but it glides against it cleanly and leaves a thick black streak behind.

It takes you a minute to write everything out, get it worded how you want. Namjoon doesn't interrupt you, just watches the marker move against the board and smiles every time you go to erase something that isn't right. Eventually you show it to him.

There are similarities. I'm still me, I still enjoy TV and music and books. Things are duller now, like there's a filter over them, and it's harder to do things. Like when you're in water, or mud, like that. Resistance.

"Oh," Namjoon replies, "That's not what I expected. It makes sense though I guess." His hand moves against his chest, rubbing lightly as he looks over your words again. "Is there anything you actually like about being a ghost?"

"Well, being invisible is pretty cool," You say, writing the words as you do. "And it's actually really fun being able to walk through walls and stuff, even if I can't go anywhere outside of the apartment."

"I'm sorry you're stuck here," Namjoon says. You startle a little, looking up at him. You think he actually heard you for a split second, but his eyes are locked on where you're writing your words out on the dry erase board.

"Yeah, me too," You tell him. He stares at the board for a long moment, chewing nervously on his bottom lip as he does. "Ask what you want to ask, Joon," You write as you say it.

"How did you die?" He blurts. You sigh and he jumps a little, looking fully at where you sit. You're shocked; you know that sometimes little noises cross over, like when Jin heard you laughing, but it's still rare. You can't figure out how it works, but you want to.

You write for a long time, letters small so they fit on the board. The whole thing is crowded together, looks like one long string of letters instead of the story it is.

There's a lot of violence in this neighborhood. You probably know that by now. People are always getting robbed or mugged or something around here. Someone tried to break into my apartment by banging the door down. It didn't work, luckily, but I got really paranoid afterwards. One night I was cooking, and someone's door slammed really hard. I spilled the water I was boiling, slipped. Blacked out after a while, and when I came to, there were police everywhere. I guess I hit my head harder than I thought, because they carted me away, and I couldn’t follow.

"I'm sorry," Namjoon says softly. "You deserved more time."

Yeah. The universe had a different plan, I guess. He smiles at that, and it settles the anxiety thrumming under your skin. Wouldn't have met you, so I guess that's a bonus. He rolls his eyes at you but he laughs softly, so you consider it a win. You doodle on the board then, simple little designs that don't mean anything beyond being able to see your effect on the world.

Namjoon sucks in a breath beside you and you look up at him. He's always been good about looking towards where you are, doing his best to make eye contact with someone he can't see, but he still always tends to look through you.

Not this time.

This time, electricity sings through the air as your eyes meet his. You don't know how, but you know he can see you. His eyes roam over you, taking in the crumpled sweater you were wearing with the stain you like to think is pasta sauce on the arm, the hair you can't ever really tame, the way you sit cross-legged on his old thread-bare couch with a dry erase board in your hands.

Neither of you moves. He looks torn between fear and amazement, every emotion in between flitting quickly over his features, and you're terrified that if you move, whatever spell that's been cast will fade. It had been so long since you talked to anyone when Namjoon slammed those magnets on the fridge, and the conversation has been a reprieve, but to be seen for the first time in years...

It's invigorating.

Watching Namjoon just look at you is something you won't ever forget, not for as long as you exist in the world. He looks at you like he's memorizing every detail, every hair and wrinkle and pore, and just knowing that he can see you fills you with something new.

"Namjoon...?" You call hesitantly. His eyes fall on your lips.

"Again," He says. Your brows must furrow, maybe you frown, you don't know because it's been so long since you've needed to pay attention to your facial expressions, but he notices your confusion. "Will you say something again?"

Breath you don't have catches in your throat, wraps itself around a heart that doesn't beat, but you smile a little. "I'm glad I met you."

Namjoon smiles. It's big and blinding and knocks everything out of you except for that emotion that's been sitting in your chest since the first time you watched him talk to his plants. You lean forward, and you can tell the exact moment you disappear, because his smile falls and his eyes unfocus. A whimper leaves your throat, but he doesn't react, and that may be the most painful thing that's ever happened to you.

"Can I feel you?" His voice is hushed but the words reverberate in your head. His eyes dart around, looking for any glimpse of you, and your hand trembles as you reach out.

Goosebumps raise on his cheek where your hand touches him and his breath stops for a moment, but he smiles again and leans into the chill. You bring your other hand up to cup his other cheek, your dry erase board lying forgotten on the ground, and Namjoon's eyes flutter closed.

"I think I might love you," You say quietly just before you press your lips to his. He doesn't react to your words, but he lets out a soft sigh at your kiss. Thunder cracks through the apartment, a torrent of rain unleashed on the windows, but you don't move.

The two of you sit like that for hours, until he starts shivering and his nose turns red, like it does when he forgets his scarf on the cold days, and his breath puffs in the air. When you finally pull away from him, he smiles, and the blush on his cheeks has nothing to do with the cold air that makes up your form.

"Yeah," He says softly, voice nearly drowned out by the storm raging outside. "Yeah, I can feel you."

If you expected things to change much after that, you were wrong. At least a little. Namjoon still disappears to go on his walks, you still start the kettle the second his whistles drift up to the apartment. He still asks you a million questions, but they're more normal now. Your favorite music, color, what you wished you'd done with your life, if you've been able to corporealize again recently, what you wanted to watch that night.

"Come on, Casper," Namjoon groans. "I promise you can do it." You huff and he smiles, clearly having heard it. You're tempted to just disappear somewhere, rattle some pipes in the bathroom or the kitchen so he thinks you're in there and leaves you alone, but he smiles at you again and you're weak for that dimple.

You grip the watering can again, doing your best to lift it and manipulate it the way you need to. It's heavy, and something about the metal makes your skin itch, but the more you struggle the more you're able to pour the slightest bit of water where RJ - a giant plant that you don't even know the name of - sits in the corner of the room across from Namjoon's bed. It's the twentieth-something time you've tried this today, and you're ten seconds from just giving up completely, but you can tell this is important to Namjoon.

He's been talking all week, between the late nights where you lay over his blanket-wrapped form and the mornings where he ducks out with a soft goodbye. He's told you everything about his plants that you think he possibly could, teaching you about them and showing you how to care for them. It's interesting, you won't lie, and it's always fun to see him light up when you recall something he's told you, but you're exhausted and every part of you is shaky, and you're more than a little worried of what might happen if you push too far again.

Still, Joon hasn't looked great lately, like he might be getting the flu, and you want to be able to help him with all the things he does in the house. You've already started doing the dishes and folding laundry, since those were the two things he was the absolute worst at, but you feel like you should be doing more.

"Good job, baby, I'm proud of you!" You grunt and let the watering can fall back to the ground with a loud thump that almost definitely has the downstairs neighbors cursing Namjoon's name. "See, and now we're done for the day! C'mon, we can put on Sens8 and cuddle."

He's on the couch before you can stop him, wrapping himself in blankets except for one lone hand that sticks out, expectant. You roll your eyes and sit beside him, close enough that if you had a body you would be cuddling instead of just sitting awkwardly beside him.

You know that this is just going to make your hand all pink and gross, right?

He just smiles when the board flips around to reveal itself and wiggles his fingers. "It's worth it," He says. "I'd rather be pink and gross than never get to hold your hand at all."

You can't even feel my hand, Joon, there's literally no point to this. He huffs and wraps his hand around the marker in your hand, shivering at the chill that runs through him when he does. He grins and gestures down to where the tips of his fingers are already turning red.

"Clearly I can feel it, Casper."

You're glad he can't see you, that you don't have a heart that beats or blood that runs, because if you did, your face would no doubt be red. You have no doubts that Namjoon would tease you about it.

He's quiet as you both watch the show; he makes the odd comment here or there, but his mood seems to have calmed some. When he first got back from whatever place he visited that day, he'd been anxious and jumpy and entirely too on edge.

"Hey, Casper?" He asks quietly. You slide a hand against his cheek to let him know you're there, and he leans into the chill again. "What do you think about me?"

You don't move for several seconds, hand still poised around his cheek.

"Like, your feelings. What are they? Will you tell me?" You knock once on the wall behind the couch. Your hand stays poised over your board for long enough that Namjoon starts to get a little restless. Words refuse to come to you. Every time you start to think you have a way to describe to him what he means to you, they disappear as quick as fog on a summer's afternoon. Frustrated, you let the board fall to the couch and scrawl a quick 'hold on' so he knows you aren't just ignoring him.

It's been weeks since you've seen what you're looking for, your cookie sheet with the word magnets having been basically forgotten in lieu of the more personal and convenient dry-erase board, but right now you know that if words won't come to you, you'll have to go to them.

You finally find it, shoved under several encyclopedias and magazines, and the noise you make is so triumphant that even Namjoon hears it. You curl back up beside him, careful to make sure the blanket is wrapped tight around him, and make sure he can see the words as you move them. It still takes a long time, constantly changing and rearranging and stacking to make sure it conveys the things you need it to convey.

You are like music. A symphony of summer days and peach skies with soft rain. You are a storm in the moonlight. I'm not lonely when I have you pouring around me. You make me feel alive again.

Namjoon is silent for a long time, and you wonder if you've gone too far. It's more poetic than you'd like, too frilly and fancy and emotional than you usually are, but they're the only words you have.

After too long, he exhales. It's heavy and deep and it feels like he's trying to expel more than just air from his body.

"You make me feel alive, too," is all he says, whispered into the softness of his blanket in a voice too small for his long limbs. He shivers, and you hear him choke down a cough, and then he disappears into the bathroom for a long time. When he comes back out, he doesn't say anything, just slides into the mass of blankets on his bed and lays his arm out across the mattress. You spread out across from him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he looks through you and out the window where the rain is letting up.

"Looks like the rainy season is gonna last longer than everyone thought." You slide your hands around one of his large ones and just hold them like that. His eyes sink closed and something like relief stands on his face for a moment before it's gone, swept away by the peace of sleep.

You wonder what it is that he sees when he looks out the window. If it's the plain brick wall and windows of the building next door, or something more.

You aren't sure you want to know.

Namjoon's flu only seems to get worse. He leaves early in the mornings, as if he thinks you might not notice the way he coughs into his scarf just because the sun hasn't risen fully yet. He stays gone most of the days, and even when he apologizes quietly during the twilight when he slinks back in to the sound of the kettle screeching on the stove and his tea already waiting to be steeped, he still doesn't stop.

You've taken to playing blues while he's gone, mostly the old school stuff, digging out the vintage record player he has buried in the closet and setting it up on the coffee table. It’s the only technology you can use without shorting it out. You don’t know why, but it makes you grateful the record collection Namjoon keeps tucked away inside the coffee table that you’ve learned is in fact an actual steamer trunk that he salvaged and restored himself.

The music fills the apartment, distracts you from the oppressive weight of his absence. He knows you wait at the window for him, you told him that back when the two of you were first getting to know each other.

You're so fragile, you had told him. He had laughed at you, quiet and fond, and waited for you to explain further. You're so full of life and breath and possibility, and the world is so big and so dangerous. I'm scared you won't come back.

"Of course I'm going to come back," he told you. You didn't even need to tell him that you're afraid of what being alone might do to you, now that you're so used to his presence. You're being heard again, sometimes even seen, and you don't know if you can go back to the stagnant depression of solitude. "I'll always come back to you."

That was the first time you thought you might love Namjoon. The feeling has only gotten stronger, and now that you wait at the window with your eyes focused on that tiny section of sidewalk you can see at the end of the alley, it threatens to consume you whole.

You wait at the window for hours. You know because you glance at the clock every minute and a half, mocking you with every tick as it hangs limply on the bathroom door. The sun sinks below the horizon, the moon rises to take its place, and they switch again while you wait. The dawn paints the sky in beautiful shades of pink and red and orange and the faintest purple, but you can't appreciate any of it, because you're too anxious.

He could be hurt. He could be gone, and you wouldn't ever know until his friends came to pack his things. He could have left, too; maybe he finally decided that living with a ghost was just too much for him and just ran. Maybe he figured out that you love him, that you would move heaven and earth if it meant he was safe forever if only you could leave this apartment, and it was too much for him.

What if he knows about how you lay beside him every night? How you tuck the blankets tighter around him, cover him in warmth and comfort before settling on top of them and closing your eyes and pretending that you can feel his arm draped over your waist and his breath on the back of your neck. What if he felt you, that night you wandered into the bathroom while he was showering to write on the steam-covered mirror that he needs to buy more eggs soon and got distracted by the way he looked stepping out of the shower? What if he knows your stomach flipped at the long limbs and the hidden muscles and the sheer size of him? What if he knows the real reason you were quiet that night, the way you kept replaying the moment in your mind and wishing you had a body so you could have just touched him, at least.

It's closer to noon than midnight when his whistle echoes up through the window.

"Hey, I'm home," He calls as he enters the empty apartment. You're upset, but you're more filled with relief than anything because at least he's safe and he's here now. He makes a beeline for where the kettle is just starting to whistle, already reaching for the honey and the tea you set out on the counter for him, and you do your best to calm the storm of emotions inside you.

Did you have fun, wherever you were? You ask him, floating the whiteboard in front of his face so he has to acknowledge it.

"Yeah, I did," he responds as he stirs his tea. "Jin invited everyone over for some end of summer thing. I didn't feel too great at the end of it, so I just spent the night there."

Don't party too hard, you might remember how to have fun, you joke. It falls a little flat based on the grim smile Namjoon gives you. Are they gonna come over here again anytime soon? I've missed scaring Hoseok.

He lets out a real laugh at that. "I don't know, maybe. My birthday's coming up, after Jeongguk's, so they could definitely be planning something. I'm heading over to Yoongi's later to help plan for Guk's party. I might stay there tonight, so try not to worry, Casper."

I'll try, you tell him. You both know you'll stand at the window every second he's gone, but you don't want to tell him why. You don't want to tell him that you love him through a dry erase board, or some fancy poetry magnets. It doesn't matter that you may as well have already said so by telling him that he makes you feel alive again; you haven't said the words to him, he hasn't seen 'I love you' in the messy scrawl that is your handwriting on some stupid board, and therefore he doesn't know.

You don't know if you want him to.

He stays gone that night, as he said he might, and reappears the next day to shower and change before he vanishes again. The next time he shows up, he takes a bag with him when he leaves, which only worsens your fears. He stays gone for three days this time, doesn't apologize when he turns up again and just mumbles a soft hello into the air before he makes tea and sags into his couch. He's asleep in seconds, and as much as you want to scream at him, you can't bring yourself to disrupt how peaceful he looks.

When he wakes, he takes a shower and ignores the ' can we talk ' you scrawled in the steam. He packs a bag of fresh clothes and doesn't say goodbye when he leaves, just disappears and leaves you standing at the window with the pail in your hand, caring for the plants he isn't. The slam of the door sounds like nails in a coffin and breaks what little was left of your soul.

He shows back up nearly a week later, and the relief at seeing him again is overridden by the sheer anger at being left in the first place. You don't start the kettle when you hear his whistle, the quiet and hoarse tune of a familiar song barely reaching the window, but there's plenty of noise when he enters.

The cabinet doors are quaking with your fury, the lights flicker and threaten to burst, and Namjoon just leans back against the door. He’s soaked from the storm thundering outside, even his jacket plastered to his skin, and he’s shivering slightly, but you can’t see anything past the rage.

"Where the fuck were you?" You demand; there's no point, it's not like he can hear you, but the way he sighs makes you feel like he can, so you continue anyway. "It's been almost a week, you didn't even think to stop by for ten seconds so I know you're okay? I thought you were dead somewhere, you could've been, like, shot, or something, I don't know, just bleeding out in some ditch, and I wouldn't know! And what about all the plants? I know how to take care of them, sure, but do you know how hard it is for me to do it?"

Namjoon sighs again, the breath catching in his throat and coming out in a cough, but you don't pay much attention to it.

"Why would you act like this, Namjoon? What did I do, is it because of the things I said? Do you not want me to feel like this about you? Because this a damn good way of making sure I don't, I assure you, so by all means, just keep disappearing and leave me alone with the plants you decided to rescue and save!"

His cough gets worse and he just shakes his head, covering his mouth and making his way towards the bathroom.

"If you want me to hate you, it's too fucking late, Joon!" The slam of the bathroom door punctuates your sentence, and you quiet at the sound of continued coughing. You knew his flu was getting worse, but it's never sounded like that. Even when you were alive, you knew that the wet sound that's muffled by the bathroom door isn't what a cough should sound like. The lock of the door clicks, and it shocks you into movement because he's never - never - locked you out of anywhere. He knows it wouldn't stop you, knows it as well as you know that you'd respect that boundary if he set it, and yet here he is, locking you out even as he coughs up what sounds like a lung in the other room.

You hesitate at the door, torn between respecting his boundaries and knowing what’s happening. You want him to trust you, always, and yet you find your hand disappearing through the door before you can stop it. You stand like that for a long moment, just listening to the sounds of his wracking coughs; the sound of a crash echoes through the apartment, though, and you’re through the door completely in the span of a heartbeat. 

Nearly everything that had been on the counter is scattered on the ground, Namjoon himself gripping the sides of the toilet as if he would fall apart otherwise. A single glance tells you that the crash happened as he turned from the sink to the toilet, and if his jolting shoulders didn’t tell you why, the sounds of his retching would. That isn’t what fills you with dread though; the disorientation, the vomiting, all of it comes with being sick sometimes, but the red staining the bathroom sink? 

That’s not normal, and you know with every part of you that it’s the reason he’s been gone so much. 

The temperature in the apartment drops with the sun, but your arms surround Namjoon as best they can. Goosebumps break out on his arms, shivers run down his back, but you don’t move away from him; he doesn’t say anything, just sits there with his forehead pressed against the cool of the porcelain. He stands eventually, ignores the way he passes completely through your body to rinse the sink and brush his teeth. 

You let him stay quiet until you’re both on his bed; you’re pressed up against his side and running your hands along his forearms, idly wondering if you would be able to feel his heartbeat if you were alive. 

“It’s not...it’s not gonna get better,” He says eventually. “There’s not a cure, just some things to draw it out and give me a little bit longer even if they come with more pain. I go once a week to see if it’s gotten worse, check how much longer I have. It’s why Hobi let me move in here rent-free. He pays the bills, says it’s the least he can do. I wanted to be closer to him anyway, so that’s a bonus, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry, Joon,” you whisper. Your board lies forgotten, somewhere on the couch maybe, you aren’t sure and can’t be bothered to pull yourself away from him long enough to find it. You don’t need it right now, though; he knows what you mean by the way the cold presses against his bicep with your palm. 

“I didn’t want you to know.” You’re not exactly surprised at that; you’d figured as much. You just don’t understand his reasoning. “I didn’t want you worrying about me, or anything like that, like the guys do. They always look at me and it’s all they can see. Like they’re already mourning me, even though I’m still here. I didn’t want to feel like that with you.” 

“I know,” you say. You don’t, not really. Your own death was sudden, a shock to everyone you knew; you didn’t get the luxury of saying goodbye, didn’t have the burden of knowing you would be gone soon. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, until you can feel Namjoon’s chest quivering under your palm. When you look up, he looks at you, really and truly at you , and he has tears in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to die, Casper,” He whispers. You suck in a breath because he can see you, and you don’t even know why, but you don’t want to lose this moment. “I don’t want to leave all of this behind. I don’t want to leave you.” 

“It’ll be okay,” you say softly. His brow furrows and a tear slides down his cheek. “I promise you it will be okay, Namjoon. It gets easier, and people remember but they aren’t stuck forever. And I…” You falter, and it takes his eyes meeting yours to make you realize he can hear you. And there’s only one thing you’ve ever needed him to hear. 

“I love you,” You tell him. “I love you, and I will never forget you.” 

He surges forward, lips meeting yours in a rush of air. You moan at the feeling of him against you, realizing that for the first time since you died, you can feel something under your fingers. His skin is warm against your fingers, his lips soft against your own, and when he reaches up to cup your jaw with his hand, he doesn’t pass through your form. Instead his hand settles heavy against you, and he moves your head to lick into your mouth. 

Tears that won’t fall prickle at the back of your eyes and you climb into his lap before he can stop you. He’s still crying so you wipe away the tears before they can fall, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his dimples, his nose, every bit you can reach. A question sits at the back of your mind, and you can see it lingering in his eyes, but neither of you asks it.

“You’re so cold.” His whisper is nearly lost amidst the thunder that shakes the apartment, but it makes you smile a little. 

“Warm me up?” 

His chest is still quivering with unspoken sobs, but he nods. “Always,” he tells you. “I’m always going to be here.” It doesn’t take long to pry him out of his clothes, takes even less time for him to sink into you. It feels just like it did when you were alive, only magnified; you can feel him hot and warm inside you, can feel the beat of his heart in the firm muscle under your hands. His moans are quiet and hoarse but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He keeps one hand on your waist and the other on your neck, holding you close enough that he can kiss whenever he wants. “You’re beautiful,” He whispers. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” You just press another kiss to his chapped lips and let him dig his fingers in hard enough that it would bruise if it could. When he’s close to his peak, he stops thrusting, just sits inside you as he grinds your hips down to his, and presses his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” He tells you, lightning casting his shadow across the wall for a brief moment. “I love you, I do, I wish-”

“I know,” you tell him before he can continue. “I know, Namjoon, I know, and I do, too. I love you, too.” He comes a few seconds later, the warm seed soaking into his sheets because it has nowhere to go. His warmth disappears from under your hands and his arms fall to his lap when the only thing holding them up is gone. All you can hear is your quiet sobs mixed with his and the rain against the window, and for the first time since you came back, you really, truly, wish you had died. There’s no point in being a ghost when you can still feel your heart breaking in your chest. 

“Casper, are you ever scared?” 

It’s the middle of the afternoon. Namjoon is sprawled across the couch wrapped in blankets while Lucifer plays in the background and you doodle aimlessly on your board. You don’t need it as often now; you’ve gotten better at focusing your energy into being heard, though being corporeal still eludes you. You don’t know how you did it that night, but you’re grateful for it. 

“Of what?” You ask, looking towards him. He’s not looking at you or watching the show, just staring at the ceiling. He focuses at your words, lifts himself up into a sitting position. A shiver runs through him when his legs move through you, and you settle a weightless hand against his knee out of habit. 

“I don’t know,” He replies. “Just...whatever comes next. If there’s something that comes next. Being forgotten. Being stuck here forever.” 

You aren’t stupid; you know why he’s asking. The question lingers in the air, colors all of your conversations now, but the truth is that neither of you has the strength to ask it and neither of you knows the answer. 

“Sometimes,” You tell him. “Sometimes I wonder what Jihyo is doing, if she ever had a baby like she wanted to. I wonder if my parents are still alive, and what they say if they visit my grave, what they tell me now that I can’t respond to them.” 

Namjoon nods like he’s already thought of that, and he probably has. 

“Most of the time I try not to focus on it, though. It’s not helpful, it only upsets me, and I don’t…” You trail off, unsure of how to word your thoughts. “I don’t know what might happen if I only focus on the negative. I don’t know anything about what’s true about ghosts and what isn’t beyond that I exist now, and I can’t risk becoming something bad. So I try not to focus on it. It’s easier when you’re here.”

He grins and blows a kiss in your general direction, and you pretend not to notice the blood on his cracked lips. He’s quiet for the rest of the episode of half of another. 

“Have you ever seen a light?” 

“What?” He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you repeat your question on your board for him. 

“A light,” He echoes. “Like, the light.Y’know, the light at the end of the tunnel, ‘don’t go into the light,’ that thing.” 

You hesitate at that. You knew what he meant, what he actually wants to know here. He’s easier to read now than he was in the beginning. 

You watch him as he watches the space where you sit, curled up beside him on his couch. He can’t see you, of course, but he can see where the board rests in your hands. His gaze is heavier than it was when he first moved in; his cheeks are hollower, skin more gaunt with a grey tint that’s only made worse by the constant rain. The sun is just starting to break through the clouds, a brief reprieve after weeks of the dreary stone-colored clouds. It casts shadows along the walls, reflects off something in the window across the alley, and backlights Namjoon beautifully, casts a halo of light around the brittle brown hair you love. 

Once, you tell him. Just once.

“Why didn’t you go to it?” 

There are so many things you could tell him, so many different ways to answer such a simple question, but you find yourself lingering on the one thing you know is the ultimate truth. 

Because I love you.

September comes with even more rain and a bittersweet atmosphere. Jeongguk spends his birthday at Namjoon’s apartment and then comes back a little over a week later, surrounded by the other guys and carrying enough food to last a few months. You stay curled on the bed, one of the only safe places for you to not mess with anyone or anything. Your board is tucked into the blankets, ready to be used but hidden from view just in case. You watch as Namjoon sits on the couch, tucked between Taehyung and Yoongi with both of them leaning into him as much as possible, Yoongi’s hands wrapped in one of his and Tae’s head on his shoulder. 

The other’s aren’t far, leaning against the back of the couch and on beanbags they’d brought with them, all laughing as Hoseok does his best to act out whatever he’d been given in charades. He’s not bad at it - you’ve guessed the last few he’s done - but he is utterly ridiculous in his mannerisms. You know why; it’s the same reason everyone kept smiling when Namjoon refused all of the food he was offered, why Seokjin would crack a terrible joke whenever it got too quiet for too long, why everyone is resolutely ignoring the growing pile of tissues on the table. 

It keeps a smile on Namjoon’s face, though, and a laugh in his eyes, and you can’t ever be anything but grateful for that. 

Hoseok stumbles, nearly falling and whirling his arms to catch himself before eventually falling anyway. You laugh along with the others, grinning at the way Hobi pouts and rubs at his hip. You’re focused on the way Joon laughs, the way it lights up his face and brightens the entire room, which is why you see it first. 

The tickle at the back of his throat quickly becomes a cough, wet and wheezing and enough to make him throw the blankets from his lap and stumble to the bathroom. 

You’re there before he is, helping him slide the door closed and locking it behind him as he bends over the toilet again. The six of them are quiet in the main room, speaking in hushed whispers that neither you nor Namjoon wants to hear. You turn the knob on the sink, wetting a towel while you drown out the sound of voices, and letting a hand run over Namjoon’s back. 

“I’m okay,” he mutters. You ignore the way his voice shakes, the way his lips are redder than before, the way this happens more often than before. Instead, you just press the damp rag to his neck and watch his eyes close in relief. When he stands and flushes the evidence away, you already have his toothbrush ready and waiting, and you stay as close to him as you can until he takes a deep breath. 

“I’m okay,” He repeats. “I’m okay. It’s my birthday, and I’m okay.” 

He goes back out with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice, teasing Hoseok about the way he fell and reenacting it, even. When he settles on the couch, he urges the others to continue the game. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Jimin declares that he’s next and pulls something from the bowl on the table. 

You know you aren’t the only one that notices the way Namjoon’s eyes linger on the six men around him, but you are the only one that notices the way they also linger on his steamer trunk, the shelf with his books, the TV, the record player, the scrapbook of his life that they all worked on and Taehyung pieced together over the months, the plants on the wall that he had cared for. He looks around his apartment as if he’s looking at it for the last time. 

As if he’s already planning who’s going to get what. 

He finally asks the question you both have been thinking about, nearly two months later. His breathing comes in ragged pants, his lips stay chapped, and he keeps several blankets around him at all times to try to hide the shaking of his body. Your soft sobs echo through the apartment constantly; while you reheat the tea he doesn’t drink for the millionth time, while you quietly water and prune the plants he’s saved from death the way you wish you could save him, while you sit curled around him as he sleeps, soothing his coughs with quiet whispers. 

Night has just begun to fall, the rain of the day turning into a soft drizzle, and you stare at him blankly, unsure how to process what you’ve just heard. 

“Do you think I’ll come back?” He asks again, slightly louder. As if you hadn’t heard his shaky voice the first time. It’s not the question that floors you. You’ve been expecting this for weeks, months even. You’ve wondered it yourself as you prepare tea and ignore the sounds of him vomiting blood in the bathroom, as he disappears to the hospital and returns with a worse prognosis than before, as you’ve adjusted to the idea that you are dead and he is dying and you cannot do anything to help him. 

You never would have expected the hope that his words carry though. 

“Why does it sound like you want to?” You ask. Your voice is clear in the air and you’re glad for it, because this isn’t something you want to talk about through your board. 

“Because I do?” His response is delayed and sounds more like a question than a real answer. 

“Why?!” You demand. 

“Are you serious, Casper?” His brow is furrowed as he sits up and lets the blankets fall away to sit haphazardly off the couch. 

“Are you? Joon, why would you want to come back?”

“You’re seriously asking me that question? Why would I not? I’ve got so much I still want to do, I never thought I’d get the chance to after I got the diagnosis and now I might be able to. Why wouldn’t I want that?”

“Because it doesn’t work like that! You don’t get to just wander the world and fuck around, Joon, you’re dead.”

“Yeah, but you can still read and write and everything. I’d have all the time in the world to read the books I want to read, watch the shows I want to watch, write the music and stories and lyrics that I want to write.”

“Yeah, so long as it all stays in this apartment!” The light in the room flickers slightly with the force of your irritation. “You can’t do anything that isn’t in this room, Namjoon, you can’t use any of the electronics, you can’t read a book unless it’s here, you can’t write music unless it’s on actual paper, you can’t do anything.” 

“Yeah, and I could make that work. Why are you so upset about this? I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy? You think I’d be happy that you’d be stuck in these four walls forever, too? Why would that make me happy?” Namjoon stands, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. 

“Because I’d be with you! We’d be together, forever! Do you not want to be with me?”

“Of course I want to be with you, Joon, but not at the cost of you being stuck here. I don’t want that for anyone, certainly not the man I love.”

“And what if that’s what I want? What if I want to spend the rest of time with you? I’m already spending the rest of my life with you, I’m in love with you, I don’t want to leave you.”

“And I don’t want you to go, but Joon, why would I want you stuck here, too? This isn’t something fun. This isn’t anything that I enjoy.”

“Oh, so you regret it all then?”

“I didn’t say that, I just don’t want you to be stuck in a shitty studio apartment for who knows how long when you can’t fucking do half of the things you love! You wouldn’t go on walks, Namjoon, you wouldn’t go with Guk and Jimin to the movies, you wouldn’t get visits from Hobi, you wouldn’t get to shop with Taehyung or Jin, you wouldn’t get to drag Yoongi away from his thesis or celebrate with them when he finishes it! It’s not like being alive, Namjoon, you’d be dead and alone and in hell!”

“Whatever,” He mutters, shoving his arms into his coat. “Why can’t you understand for one fucking second that it wouldn’t be like that with you? I’d rather be stuck here forever than have to die in some shitty apartment and not even be able to touch the person I love.”

“Why can’t you understand that it’s still death? You’d be dead, Joon, your friends would go to your funeral and disappear from your life, and you’d be stuck staring out that window at that shitty alley for the rest of time. You don’t get it, you don’t how terrible it is to be stuck here and watch life pass you by.”

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” He asks. The door slams behind him before you can answer him, and your scream shakes everything in the room. You just barely catch one of the plants in the kitchen, a brown-potted one with ‘Shooky’ scrawled in Yoongi’s familiar handwriting, before it crashes to the ground. You return it to its place gently and huff another frustrated groan. 

You wish you could explain it better, but you know he wouldn’t get it even if you could. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be trapped between four walls and unable to do anything without massive amounts of effort. And he won’t, not unless he experiences it himself. 

You’ve already watched him wither away. You’ve watched him become thin and sallow and a shadow of the Namjoon who first moved in, and you don’t know what you would do if he came back. You wouldn’t be alone anymore, of course, and you’d have him here with you, but at what cost? Namjoon was built for cherry blossoms and sunshine and the riverside. He would hate being trapped here even more than you do.

Still, you could have been more understanding of his view. You can admit that even being stuck in a shitty apartment wasn’t so terrible when you had Namjoon there to make you laugh or watch TV or read to you. It may even get better if he turned into a ghost; maybe you could hold his hands in yours, could feel him wrap his arms around you, could press kisses to his skin again. 

You move to the window and stand there waiting. It’s not good for him to be out, even if the rain had stopped a few days ago and the forecasters promised it was the end of the downpours. He was still weak, you’d be surprised he even went anywhere to begin with but you know he likes to walk to calm himself down. 

You worry for what feels like hours. You can’t focus on anything, not the way the sun starts to set, not the sound of cars passing or the neighbor leaving. You’ve worked yourself into knots by the time you hear his whistle echo up through the streets, nearly lost in the sound of some argument in the alley below you. You catch a brief view of his coat and smile when you see that he’s got some half-dead plant tucked under an arm. There’s the briefest glimpse of what looks like a Ca scrawled onto it, and your heart jumps in your throat.

You make your way to the stove, turning the heat up slightly too high so that it’ll be ready when he comes in. The arguing outside gets louder but you pay it no mind, pulling the honey out and setting it next to his favorite mug. You’re reaching for the tea when you hear something else. It definitely sounds like Namjoon’s voice, but it’s not in the hall or at the door like usual. It’s raised, like he’s yelling at someone, like it was just a while ago when he was fighting with you. A crash startles you and before you can even reach the window to see what’s going on, there’s a deafening bang. 

You slam your fist against the window, watch the red mix with dirt, and the kettle isn't that only thing that screams. 

“I think that’s the last of it,” Jeongguk says. His voice is scratchy and quiet, but it’s deafening in the silence of the apartment. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok replies. His eyes are rimmed with red and his hands shake as he slides the last mug into a box. “Thanks for the help, Guk. I don’t, um.” He sniffles. “I don’t think I could’ve done it myself, y’know?” 

“I know,” Jeongguk agrees. They’re quiet again, adjusting the things they’ve boxed and avoiding finishing what they’re doing. 

“Oh, can you get that?” You don’t have to look to know what Hoseok is talking about. Jeongguk grunts an affirmation and makes his way over. It’s a strange feeling, having someone pass through you again for the first time since. His hands fly into the air as he tries to lift, clearly not having expected it to weigh anything. 

His reflection in the window frowns, and he tries again, tugging on the pot. 

“I can’t get it,” He says. “Do you think he glued these things down or something?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies as he wanders over as well. “He used to pick them up to re-pot them, remember? And the others came up with no problem.” 

“Well it’s stuck or something, you try.”

Hobi takes Jeongguk’s place and pulls hard at the plot, but your grip doesn’t waver. He huffs and disappears. When he returns, he’s got a butter knife in one hand that he does his best to slip under the pot. He tries hard to pry it up, so hard that you almost want to give in. You don’t though. 

The knife clatters to the floor with as much force as Hoseok can put behind it, a curse following quickly behind it. 

“Fuck it,” Hoseok says. His voice is shaky and you know he’s near tears again. “Just fuck it.” 

“But that was-”

“You can try if you want, Guk, but I just-” He chokes back a sob, shaking his head and moving to pick up the boxes he’d set down. “I just can’t, okay?” He disappears out the door in a hurry, and you wish you could follow after him. 

Jeongguk looks down at the small plant, with its painted periwinkle pot and soft leaves. He runs a quivering finger over the leaf and sniffles. He doesn’t try to lift it again, just stands and lets his tear soak into the soil.

“I wish you could come back to us,” He whispers. “We thought...we expected more time. It’s not...it’s not really fair, y’know? So if you can hear me, if you can come back to us, please do. Please.” 

He turns and leaves, the apartment door slamming behind him like the lid of a casket. Your grip on Mang loosens now that you know no one’s going to try to take it. You’d watched them pack everything else up; you’d let them take the steamer trunk full of records, the shelf full of books and movies, the collection of mugs, the soft blankets, the ratty couch, the rest of the plants he’d cared for so tenderly. 

Piece by piece they had packed Namjoon up and walked him out of the apartment, but this was the one piece they couldn’t have. This was his favorite and none of them knew how to care for it like you did, and you had to. You owed it to him. He deserved to come back to at least one familiar thing, never mind that you woke up not even a day later and it’s now been weeks. If there was one thing you wanted him to see when he got back, it was his favorite of his plants. 

The sun glares into your eyes from where it shines down on the city. It reflects off something in the window from across the alley, would be blinding if you actually had eyes. You pay it no mind, focused instead on the remains of the broken brown pot down in the alley, the way you’ve pieced them together in your head a thousand times just to trace the word Casper with your eyes. You can almost hear his voice saying it, even now.

You whip around, eyes darting through the empty space of the apartment as your hands tighten around Mang.

All that rests there is empty space, mocking in its loneliness. You remember when he moved in, remember how it felt to test the boundaries of the apartment and wish you were free. The want is still there, to leave and never think of it again, never think of him. You know better, though. You could never escape the memory of him, the way he laughed and smiled and spoke. You could never abandon Mang. Not when he said he’d always come back to you. 

You turn back to the window, cursing the sunlight with every other breath. It fades, slowly, into the black of night, before returning again, and again, and again. Days pass, each one feeling like years. Hoseok doesn’t appear to show the apartment, no one comes to collect the small periwinkle pot between your palms, and the ghost of his laugh echoes around you. 

The sun blinds you again. You don’t even know how long it’s been, just that you’ve yet to move. Light glints off whatever hangs in the window across the alley. That's when you see it, a vague reflection in the weathered glass of a dimple and a grin, and warmth surrounds you.

“I told you I’d always come back, Casper.”

[livinginfictions]

Tag/Ask Game

This is a sort of Check-in Tag game thing? I was tagged by @vikingstrash, so thank you dear!

1. Why did you choose your url?

I used to have a different tumblr, and then my sister saw me on it and literally took the mouse and made me follow her own tumblr, and it made me So Immensely uncomfortable, I immediately went and made a whole new blog, and messaged all my mutuals privately to tell them I was moving so my sister wouldn't find out. As I struggled to come up with something more creative than 'time-lady," I remembered one of my mom's favorite sayings, "Reality sucks, live in fiction" and since livinginfiction was taken, my friend (who was helping with the crisis) and I added an 's.' Voila. Seven years later, it's the only username i have online. XD

2. Any side blog?

Three, actually. We've got @merthurismycrack where I reblog Merthur shit, @samspsychicpowers for some SPN stuff, and the side blog that's basically my main blog at this point: @asterekmess which is where all my Teen Wolf and Sterek stuff goes.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Uhhh, I've been on this blog since August of 2014, but my old blog was started in....March 2013. I've been around a fucking while.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

HA. Fuck no. Do I look that organized? Y'all get three hours of spam reblogs, and then I disappear into the aether. How it should be. XD

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

This is essentially the same as I said for question one. Sister found the old blog, and I needed a new one. I tend to make my side blogs for more pointed material, so that my main blog can have like...the amalgamation of general stuff i like, and then I can keep the fandomy content more concentrated into the side blogs.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Originally, I did not have this icon. I had this pic I found online with these Beautiful bronze wings against a black background. But then, around the time I decided I wanted to sort of...simplify things and make my username for my online stuff all the same, with all the same pfp's so that I was easily recognized, etc, I realized that....that picture was not mine. I didn't design it or anything. And i couldn't find its source to ask for permission to use it. And it started making me feel shitty for using it in the first place. So I spent like an hour and a half trying to make my Own Wing pic to use, and failed miserably. As a last ditch effort, i went through my 'artistic' photos on my phone and found this one. I adore sky pics, and cloud pics, etc, so it was super my thing, and I just slapped it on there. Still not sick of it. XD I also went to my side blogs and changed out the pfp's for photos that I'd taken, except the sterek blog, because that one is literally just a black triskelion on a white background, and it's a pretty non-specific thing. I would have used a picture of my Own Tattoo, but it's very hard to get a picture of my back that doesn't have weird lighting, and I'm just too lazy.

7. Why did you choose your header?

All my headers are also photos that I've taken or art pieces that I've made. In the case of this blog, it's a picture I made with a 'galaxy maker' online thingy. I love green. I love blue. Ta dah. In general i just try to find something that gives me the right vibes or has the right color palette to match what it's for. (orange and blue for sterek, trees for merlin, and wings for spn)

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

On this blog? I.....just spent two hours digging through all my posts tagged 'personal' bc i wanted the post that I MADE with the most notes...and i have no idea. I mostly respond to other posts, rather than making my own. The highest note count i can find is a post i made abt having friends that aren't in your fandom, which means you can use inspirational quotes to help them through tough times without them realizing ur quoting doctor who or something. 22 notes. *fingerguns* I'm famous, i know.

9. How many mutuals do you have ?

Is...is that a thing i can check?? or do you expect me to hand count??

10. How many followers do you have right now?

Uhghhghghgh, this blog has 439 at the moment, and i'm pretty sure not a lot of those are porn bots, bc i usually screen new followers for it. a lot of them have come over from my sterek blog though.

11. How many people do you follow?

hehe....uh...36.....one of which is my husband....

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I don't even know what the requirements for something being a 'shitpost' are....but i think no?

EDIT: I Take it Back, I just found a post I made with "Hot Take: PIneapples are an honorary citrus fruit" and I believe that counts? So YES.

13. How often do you use tumblr?

Uh, nearly every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes i forget it exists for a couple days, though. It's my only social media. I dont use twitter or facebook or instagram. I Have Accounts, but I literally dont open those apps more than once a month.

14. Did you have a fight /argument with another  blog ? Who won?

My sterek blog gets in fights more often than it should. XD I'm feisty. And I dunno who wins, i think no one. it's tumblr. there's no real winning or losing.

15. How do feel about “ you need to reblog  this” post?

Oh 90% of the time I'll fucking ignore it on principle. I come to tumblr to enjoy myself and escape. I refuse to guilt the shit out of myself and my followers for not reblogging something deemed Essential. I don't care how deep the topic is or how heavy. Sometimes that's WHY I'm not reblogging it, because I don't want that shit on my blog. The other 10% of the time, I'll go to most recent reblog that Doesn't have the guilty shit on it, and then reblog that.

16. Do you like tag games?

It sounds narcissistic, but I like being tagged in them and doing them. I just Really Really Really hate tagging anyone else.

17. Do you like ask games?

Yup, I think they're fun, though I really don't think anyone wants to know this much about me.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Uhhh...I have no clue. I think...I think I might be the tumblr famous mutual, or at least my sterek blog is....

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Yup. My husband.

20. Tagged?

Uh, no one. makes me anxious. XD If someone wants to do it, go ahead and claim i tagged you, i promise no one'll call ur bluff.

[spideyspence]

cruel summer; tom holland

heya y’all im back after a heckin long break

this is the second instalment to my lover series (do not have to be read in order)

lover masterlist

masterlist

just gonna tag a couple of people bc it has been forever

@plushparker @hollandroos @spiderrrling @kiwispideys @hey-its-grey @yikesdin @princepeteys 

-

‘If I had to date any of the characters in Far From Home, I’d have to date Ned because he’s so respectful to Betty. Every woman wants to be treated with respect and Ned could do that.’ You smiled at the interviewer and then turned your head to the side when you heard Jacob’s laughter.

‘Y/N, I’d date your character too.’ He smiled.

Everyone in the room laughed.

You were surrounded by cameras for an interview you were doing along with the rest of the Spider-Man movie cast. Zendaya, Jacob, Tom and Jake were all seated beside you.

‘Excuse me Y/N, but what about Mysterio?’ Jake chuckled.

‘I don’t know, I don’t think my character would, what’s the word? Ah, appreciate all of Beck’s decisions.’ Your friends all laughed at your choice of word.

However, all of the people surrounding you knew which fictional character you would choose to date, but the two of you had to play it safe.

‘Jake,’ Tom started. ‘What about us? I thought we had something going on?’ Tom said with a pout, pointing between him and his friend.

‘I have nothing to say Tom, nothing.’ Jake laughed as he crossed his legs.

Tom continued pouting in his seat while the rest of you laughed.

‘I’d have to agree with Y/N though, I would happily date Ned because I respect a guy with a good hat and who cares for his friends.’ Zendaya added.

You smiled at her gave a small laugh.

‘Well thank you for joining us guys and remember viewers, go see Spider-Man Far From Home in cinemas now!’ The interviewer signed off.

The cameras turned off and the interviewer thanked you and you all replied and smiled back. Then you all sat up and were all going to go back to your hotels after a long day of press.

You jumped into the big black SUV with Tom by your side and everyone went to their other hotels.

You sat next to the brown-haired boy and linked your fingers with his.

‘You know that I’d only date Peter Parker, right?’ You whispered, your head on his shoulder.

‘Of course, darling. One day we’ll be okay to say it to the world.’ Tom smiled and kissed your head as you two were driven back to the place you were staying.

-

Tom and you had been dating for a few months now, and you were still in the same ‘honeymoon phase’ as you were when you first started dating. Every touch, every time kiss your stomach still did flips.

The idea of revealing your relationship to the world was scary. You wanted to be ‘lovey-dovey’ with your boyfriend in interviews, hold his hand, but you were nervous.

You didn’t know how the world would take it.

The two of you were private people. You weren’t about to scream to the world that you were together, but you wanted the world to know that you were together.

There’s a difference.

For the first month it was quick kisses and secret rendezvous because you wanted to stay young. You both wanted to feel like teenagers, sneaking around and get high off adrenaline. The two of you knew that the high wasn’t going to last forever.

Then by the second month the two of you were still the same, but it was annoying when the two of you couldn’t go down to the local café, just a couple of streets down from Tom’s place on a Wednesday morning for a cup of coffee. You two would ‘accidentally’ run into one another down the hall with the blue light from the vending machine, but then return to his room with many snacks to eat while watching some stupid romcoms.

It was the simple things you two wanted.

-

The promo tour for Far From Home was happening during the summer, and as the days past, you just wanted a day off with Tom to sleep and maybe go out for a lunch date. You were also sick of having to meet late at night, outside the hotel, or having to sneak into one another’s hotel rooms to cuddle together.

It was a rare night off, so a small group of you decided to head out and have a couple of drinks.

Tom, Zendaya, Jacob, Jake and you were all in one big SUV heading to the bar just on the outskirts of the city.

You were having a rough day, you were aware of that, and you didn’t really want to go out that night, but you wanted to spend time with Tom. Interviews after interviews meant that there was less time to hang out with one another and the constant activity made you tired along with the early starts.

It was just a couple more weeks of interviews. You could get through this.

-

You all sat around a table and you had a glass of some alcohol drink in your hand while Tom next to you had a beer in his. Your drink was somewhat fruity but even though you knew you shouldn’t have let alcohol touch your lips that night, you just needed a night off after working.

The five of you laughed at one another’s jokes, funny memories on set while filming and stupid moments during the interviews.

All the memories were funny, but your tiredness mixed with the liquor made it hard to laugh sometimes or you’d cackle at just about everything being said.

About an hour later (along with a couple of drinks), you were gone, and Tom could tell, but so could everyone else at the table.

Tom decided that right now, in the middle of press interviews was not a good time for you to have photos taken of you drunk.

‘I’m gonna take Y/N home now because she seems a little drunk.’ Tom said. There was a light tone of humour in his voice, but he wanted to take you back to the hotel to look after you.

Zendaya, Jake and Jacob all nodded in agreeance.

‘Look after her mate and make sure she’s all good for the Buzzfeed interview tomorrow.’ Jake laughed.

Tom stuck his middle finger up as his reply and you heard a chorus of laughter as you stumbled out of the building.

You both climbed into the car that was waiting outside for you both and sat in silence for a couple of moments while the car went down the busy avenue.

You desperately wanted to lean onto your boyfriend’s shoulder and nap. Even though it was just one other person in the car other than you two, you didn’t know who the uber driver was.

Better safe than sorry.

Your need for sleep, the fruity drink and you missing Tom caused a tear to fall down your cheek, and soon enough you couldn’t stop.

‘Y/N, are you alright?’ Tom asked, worried.

You choked out a reply of ‘I’m fine.’

‘Y/N, what’s wrong?’ Tom questioned again, wanting to know what was wrong with you.

‘I said I’m fine.’ You replied, a little forcefully.

You didn’t want to talk about this when you were in this state. You were too tired, too drunk and you were going to full on sob if you had to talk about it in the back of the car.

Tom put his head out over the middle of the seat for you to hold, and even though you noticed it, you ignored it.

As much as you wanted to feel Tom’s hand, and be in his arms, it would have been too much.

This was like the build-up of everything from the past five months and it hurt, because you hadn’t seen Tom like this. You knew that not spending as much time with him was tough, but you never saw him express it.

Then the wall crashed, and the tears started to flow. You felt Tom move next to you and put his arms around you.

‘Hey love, what’s wrong? You can talk to me baby. What’s up?’ Tom questioned, worried.

You were a blubbering mess and you could feel the effect of the alcohol in your head and the words tumbled out.

‘I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you.’

You felt Tom’s arms tighten around your body and you buried your heart into his chest.

‘Just- goddamnit Tom. For whatever it’s worth, I love you.’ You said.

Ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard.

‘Baby, I love you too. Of course, I do. I know this has been hard but for now, let’s get you upstairs.’ Tom replied.

You hadn’t realised that you had pulled up in front of the hotel and Tom held your hand as you walked in through the front door and directed you to the elevator.

Whether there were any photos released the next morning, neither of you cared in that moment.

You both loved each other and you both knew that keeping your relationship a secret was affecting both of you.

So that night the two of you laid in your hotel room, blankets covering you as you both whispered sweet nothings into one another ears.

Everything will be alright.