#ok gonna ride this high until it fades and i start feeling depressed again lol

[wizardhex]

genuinely for the first time in my life i don't feel like a deeply pathetic and lame person........what has happened....i did not feel like this 3 days ago why do i suddenly think im ok???

[jungnoir]

ghost!bambam;

a while back @seoulscapes sent me this text post and said this would be ghost!bambam and this idea was always a cute what if...... and then someone requested it

and how could i refuse our bby bam?

ok ok so background on bambam’s death: he died way too young

he was in college and had just been accepted into the frat of his dreams

he was basically living the life

but some dumbass in the frat thought that bambam wasn’t “ride or die” enough so the head of the frat acquiesced bc obviously the reputation of the frat was on the line and he couldn’t have any of his pledges getting in easy peasy

obviously

so they decided to gave him one more trial, a quickie that barely meant anything to them at all 

even bam himself was like “lol that’s easy”

the trial was to enter this old house in the neighborhood and to retrieve a well hidden letterman jacket, the jacket that new pledges get once they’d passed all the tests

the head of the frat sent the dumbass with the genius idea to hide it, and that guy and his friend made sure to make it unrealistically hard for bambam

they placed it in the attic, where there were countless holes and creaky floorboards and basically the whole thing is a death trap nightmare

but bambam is super confident!!! he’s like hell yeh imma get in there and imma find that jacket and im gonna look so cool to the prez of the frat that he’ll throw me a party in my honor and thank me on his knees for even considering his frat

he got ahead of himself obviously but i digress

at first, bambam was sure he could find it

he searched everywhere, high and low, and the longer it took him to search the more frustrated he and the frat brothers got

after a while, the brothers decided to head back, and if bam could bring the jacket by morning then he was in

bam had searched every area of the abandoned house and finally he had reached the attic, which had been ~mysteriously~ left open

he decides it wouldn’t hurt to check and goes up, flashing his phone light to see the jacket all the way across the attic, practically waiting for him like treasure to a pirate

he scrambles up, not even thinking about watching his step

and not even a few feet later, he’s got the jacket in hand, but he collapses right through the floor

honestly, a lot of people had fallen through the attic before, leaving with nothing more serious than a broken bone or two, but it’s not bambam’s lucky day

he happens to step in the worst spot, and it sends him falling from the high open ceiling above the front door, falling three stories and hitting the ground with a sickening crack

he was dead on impact

the frat brothers didn’t see bam the next day, or the day after that, so most of them assumed bam got hurt or chickened out after not finding it

until a few days later when some students passing by the house noticed a foul smell

the police were called and bam was found, and the frat brothers were so surprised that they didn’t dare speak a word of it to anyone

it looked like a frat kid playing around, and got too brave and ended up dead

it was a tragic case, and the campus mourned for months

bambam didn’t quite realize his ghostly self until a week after the incident, when he found himself staring out of one of the bedroom windows, laying on the floor with the letterman jacket around his shoulders

he was super confused, wondering if the fall had been a dream and he had just passed out in a random room or something

he leaves the house shortly after, and sees one of his frat brothers

he goes to greet him, to gloat about finally passing all the tests, but as soon as bambam walks up to him the frat brother walks straight through him

so bambam really starts freaking out and thinks that he’s drunk, and starts yelling at the frat brother for help or something but

nothing

no one can hear him

and it seems like no one can see or feel him either

it’s only when he gets to the frat house that he sees a vigil still up, filled to the brim with fresh flowers and a small stand that says “for bambam, may he rest in peace”

it’s so unbelievable that all he can do is break down and cry, scream for anyone who might realize he’s there, but after a while his cries grow less and less, and suddenly he’s confined himself to the house of which he died in, spending every day alone and depressed

he slowly learns that he can still be helpful, and whenever stupid teenagers try to sneak in for fun, he always scares them off before they can

the least he can do, he thinks, is keep others from meeting his fate too

so for months, it’s all he’s used to

the solitude grows so suffocating that bambam actually thinks he’ll go mad, but then you show up

you’re new, with ripped jeans and dirty sneakers and your hair pulled out of your face

you’ve got a clipboard in hand and glasses on the tip of your nose as you make your way inside, taking a step every few feet and scribbling something on your paper

he’s learned that he can appear and disappear to those he wants, all he has to do is focus

so he keeps invisible and stays behind you, being careful not to startle you as he reads over your shoulder

and sure enough, he finds out that you’re a real estate agent

“this place is a lawsuit waiting to happen. no wonder that kid died here” you mumble under your breath, and bambam forgets to conceal himself, his eyes widening as he appears before you with a finger pointed at himself

“me?!” he shouts

you’re so frightened you scream and tumble back, but bambam is fast and grabs you by the waist before you can hurt yourself, his face knitted into an expression of concern

as soon as he sets you upright, you’re scrambling to get away from him, looking around for any signs of him coming in, but it’s like he appeared out of thin air

and he looks strangely familiar, but you just can’t place it

clutching over your heart with a heavy breath, you narrow your eyes at him and level your clipboard to defend yourself just in case “who are you and what are you doing here, kid?”

and bambam is highkey offended like

kid?? he’s- well, he was going to turn 21 soon

folding his arms over his chest, he pouts, “i could ask you the same thing. don’t you know this place is off limits since that... ya know... incident?”

he tries his best to sound authoritative and to have the upper hand in the situation but you catch on quick “it’s off limits to the general public, a public of which i am not apart of. i’m a real estate agent and i’m supposed to be casing this place for repairs. it’s gonna be hard to sell, what with the history behind it, but some people like stuff like that”

for some reason, bambam feels like he’s being intruded upon

like how could you just come in and take this place from him? he had nowhere else to go

it was already hell being on his own, he didn’t want to know what it would be like trying to avoid actual people living in the same place he lost his life

and it wasn’t like he could just relocate. his spirit was forever tied to that place, and even though he could go to some places, he could only go so far before his spirit would weaken and he’d be forced to return

“you don’t wanna do that. honestly, it’d be a better idea if you just left me- i mean, it alone”

he hopes you don’t catch on to his slip up but you’ll be damned if you ignore it

“you? what, do you come here to avoid your parents or something, kid? look, i’d suggest you find somewhere less dangerous to spend your time. isn’t it a bit early in the morning to be here anyway?” 

you continue to keep interrogating him, fretting over him like a child, and bambam is finding it really hard to keep his cool

he obviously can’t outright say he’s dead and has nowhere to go, but you don’t seem to be shutting up any time soon

in the middle of your spiel about how “back in your day” you rebelled too, you reach a hand out to grab him, but 

your hand...goes right through him

while he was getting worked up about you, he hadn’t been focusing on how his body was slowly fading in and out of its solid state

you kinda just stand there, fingers hovering right where his palm and the bones of his hand should stop you, his skin translucent and bordering on transparent

you think your eyes are playing tricks on you so you move your hand up toward his chest, and it solidifies under your touch as you let out a relieved sigh

but then you don’t feel anything under your fingertips

you place your hand right over his heart and feel nothing, not a steady beat or even his chest rising and falling to take in a damn breath

it’s just cold skin under a cold, thin tee shirt, and the boy before you is looking at you like he’s been waiting for you to notice

“what... why are... where is your heartbeat?” “i don’t very well need one if i’m dead, do i?”

suddenly the familiarity hits you, and all those months ago when you’d first seen his face on tv, the tragic case of a college kid who’d lost his life in the very house you were in

you let out a choked scream, but it’s barely loud enough to startle the birds out in the backyard

he just watches with raised eyebrows as you stumble back, your eyes widened in fright and your hand over your mouth 

“y-you died! here! you’re a ghost!” you keep repeating to yourself, trying to find your sanity

yet all he can do is sigh, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “i’ve been aware, captain obvious. and i can’t go anywhere else, so you can’t sell this house” he tells you, walking up to you and grabbing your arm to keep you steady, just in case you fell again

when you’ve seemed to calm down a few minutes later, you level a glare at him and shove his arm off, “i can’t just tell my boss that this house is off limits because it’s haunted. i’ll sound like a lunatic” “bring your boss here. i’ll scare the shit out of him, hm? problem solved”

but no matter what he says, you stand firm in your decision that the house has to go, and that he’ll just have to deal with it

after all, what was the worst he could really do?

lmao

had you been a lil wiser, you might’ve not asked the question

the months spent fixing up the house were torture for you

from tripping up carpenters, throwing screwdrivers at windows and using red paint to draw ominous messages on the walls, bambam refuses to back down

and the worst thing is, it seems like you’re the only one he’s allowing see him

bambam: *in the middle of drawing a pentagram on the floor* don’t sell the house

you: *furiously painting over the remaining drawings of “666″ and “the antichrist lives here”* fuck off

he’s so??? infuriating?? and he’s dead which makes it ten times as bad bc he never gets tired

but despite his efforts (and there were plenty), the house soon gets fixed up into a livable state, and it’s up to you to begin decorating and getting the house sold

and after a while, you become used to bambam

it took a while for you to formally introduce yourselves to each other, and while it was a bit,,,,, stiff, you both had since come to an agreement

he would comply and let the house be sold, staying out of the way, but he would pick the tenants

so reluctantly, you accepted

bad idea of course but ANYWAY

he’s picky about everything

“i don’t like them, too many kids” “but they only have one??” “one too many”

“no old people, i’m the only one who’s gonna haunt this place goddamn it”

“the wife hates dogs???? what the hell!!”

no matter who you bring in, he hates them all

if you find it hard deterring the tenants from taking the place after his disapproval, he’ll start banging pots in the kitchen, or randomly screaming from different parts of the house, or creating shadows to scare people away

he’s always finding something bad about each one, and as the days stretch on, your boss starts getting on you about selling the place, seeing as he’s put so much money into making it even slightly desirable after bambam’s death

after one particularly taxing day, you find yourself curled up on the bed upstairs, blanket tucked in comfortably around you as you come to

bambam is there next to you, staring up at the ceiling as you flip over in bed to face him

you ask him how long you’ve been asleep, and he tells you it’s only been a few hours, but it’s dark out

you’re halfway up and out of bed, mumbling that you should probably head home, when you feel bambam scoot a little closer

and then you feel his breath on your shoulder, and in surprise, you turn, coming face to face with bambam

he looks a lot different than usual, a sad look to his usually peppy disposition

“would it be... strange... if you stayed the night? i mean, you leave snacks in the pantry since you’re practically here from sun up to sun down, and the bed is comfortable, and i... i’d really like some company”

and it’s crazy, but you find yourself staying

he spills to you about his life that night, telling you all about how his life had been before he died, how he had tried to check up on his family but hadn’t been able to get very far, and about his plans for the future

you get an idea and give him your phone, and he pulls up the social media of all his family members, spending hours just pointing out the silly posts they’d made, showing you the instagram pics that he had taken with them in the past, and reading their eulogies to him

“thank you for that... i’ve always wondered how they’d been” he tells you, watching with fondness as you struggle to keep your eyes open much longer, you mumbling out a quiet reply of “of course”

quietly, he tucks you back into the bed and lays a soft kiss on your forehead, and had he been alive, his cheeks would’ve flushed at the contact

from that day forward, you start to feel closer to bambam

you two share stories of your lives, you being a young but somewhat lonely real estate agent, telling him about how you felt like your life was going nowhere fast

he comforts you, talking to you through work stress, or letting you drink your worries away with him after a bad date (the alcohol passes right through him, and he’s thankful for that seeing as when he was alive he was a terrible lightweight)

he becomes someone in your life that you don’t think you could live without, much to your shock

it’s a rainy night and you’re still finding yourself spending time with bambam, a bottle of soju in hand as you both talk about your day when he suddenly goes, “why don’t you live here? i think you’re the only person i could tolerate being around all day”

he half expects you to laugh it off, but as you swish the contents of the bottle back and forth with a thoughtful expression, his heart clenches

with hope??? maybe

“i’ve thought about it, actually. but i don’t know... that’s a pretty big step just to hang out with annoying ol’ you” you tease, nudging your foot into his side as he grins

“just think of me as a cool, dead roommate. when you’re away, i’ll guard the house. and i can keep up with chores and keep the place warm. i can even make you dinner”

the more bambam talks, the more the idea becomes appealing

and it’s true, you’re the only person bambam could stand

in fact, you’re the only person bambam would want

the amount of times he’s dreamt of coming home to you, embracing you and spending his nights with you every night like this, being able to see you in your warm, relaxed state... it makes him a lil thankful to whomever had put him here

because if he had continued to live the life he had before, he would have never met you

and he misses his family, but he knows they’re okay

he’s at peace, he’s content, and it’s all thanks to you

there’s something more there, he thinks, but he knows it’s wishful thinking

yet as you lean into him, your warm breath brushing his arm as you mull over your thoughts, such wishful thinking doesn’t seem so distant

“if i move in... you’ve got to promise not to pop in on me in the shower and stuff” “hm, no promises”

his fingers curl around yours as you hit him with your other hand, laughing melodically into his ear

“you’re terrible” you grumble, snuggling that much closer to him as you both watch the stars through the window

“mhm. love you” he mumbles, drawing his lip between his teeth as your heart stutters 

your eyes dart to his even if only for a moment, your cheeks flushing in bashfulness

you breathe out, feeling his gaze on your face as you try to remind yourself just who you’re talking to, and what situation he’s in, “love you too... kid”

because it’s obvious

having feelings for him would be weird. it wouldn’t make sense. it would only end in heartbreak if he ever moved on to the afterlife, or if you ever found someone to start a family with. it was wishful thinking. it wouldn’t amount to anything...

...right?

you can’t really find the heart to believe yourself as his fingers squeeze around yours, and the night fades into warm hearts and stargazing, the promise of something strange, something good lingering right between you two as you drift into lovely daydreams of a boy who was just a little bit different from the rest

other ghost!got7

ghost!youngjae

ghost!jaebum

imaginary friend!mark

spirit!yugyeom

goblin!jinyoung