#that implied that i was going to drunk drive. no not really literally the ONLY acheivement i've made this year was getting a license. yay?

[dykeofmisfortune]

oh btw guys i'm in my "giving up on everything" era and it's genuinely going really well for me. moved back in with parents for the holidays i will be doing NOTHING no job applications no internship searches no reading no research no talking to people no personal fulfillment no eating no sleeping no sex no exercise. i will be drinking a lot though. #GIVING UP ON LIFE CORE #EXISTENTIAL NIHILISM

[noceurous]

get you back

summary: You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.

warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, semi-drunkenness, carsex (18+), fingering, oral, swearing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it), fuckbuddy!bucky, dbf!bucky, implied age gap, mention of bad boyfriends (not bucky), using nicknames (princess, bunny) , slight degradation - nothing physical, some mention of food

minors dni

a/n: yes I AM BACK. please leave some comments/reblogs. thanks!!

A loud snap of fingers made you turn your head to him. “Are you even listening to me?” You sighed, pressing fingers on your temples to look like you were trying to remember.

No, you weren’t listening. You were thinking how that hot guy was about to give you his number, before James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the actual devil, snatched you away. Leading you to his car without giving you a chance to say goodbye to the best body you have ever seen.

You. Hated. James. Bucky. Barnes.

“Something about… bunnies?” You shrugged as you turned your head back towards the road. Even though it was almost pitch black, you fought your urge to look at his profile under car’s lights. Even though he was angry and sleepless he looked better than all the guys you’ve ever known.

“Really? You are not even trying kid.” He said as he emphasized on the last word. He knew how much you hated the nickname.

“Stop calling me a kid. I’m not that young.”

“I will stop calling you a kid, when you stop acting like one. What were you thinking? What was the point of all that drinking? Get my attention or liver failure?”

The point was to get over your ex boyfriend finding someone before you did. You didn’t want to be the one who was stuck in an ended relationship.

You weren’t even prepared to the idea that he would start dating in a few months. His post just popped on your phone while you were scrolling through pictures on Instagram. Selfie with her, cheek to cheek and smiling like a true dumbass he is.

Getting ass drunk would be a nice way to forget. But you shouldn’t been too drunk to start texting and calling other people.

Especially calling the guy you hated the most. Because he would show up just in time, and yank you away from the guy you were flirting with.

You really shouldn’t have drunk texted your on-again-off-again hookup. Neighbour of your parents, a close friend of your dad.

It started just a few days after your heartbreak. You weren’t sure of how it started, but you remembered how it ended. In his bed, literally begging him for letting you cum as he pounded into you like an animal.

When you weren’t fucking, all you did was argue. Arguments about when to meet up or where to meet up… You hated meeting up in his place, so close to your parents. And he hated meeting only for an hour max.

You started fighting and decided to not meet up again. Either of you got tired of all the lies and secrets. It was you more than it was him. Bucky was always sure you would come back to him one way or another.

“Remind me not to call you again.” You huffed, resting your head on the window. Sun was about to shine in a few hours and all you wanted was to get into your bed. All you needed was forget the day and move on.

“Sure your parents would be thrilled to know their daughter would end up in jail for DUI.” You turned your neck so fast that it hurt.

“I wasn’t going to drive the car!”

“You getting into car of a drunk idiot is stupid enough too!”

“Stop acting like you are my dad! He was fucking hot, and he told me his place was really close.”

“What made you believe in him? I know what that kind of guy thinks. It is only getting you to the bed. You would be considered lucky if he bothered to call you the next day.”

“So? What made you think I am not okay with it?” You saw all the blood rushing to his cheeks, decorating them with a soft pink hue.

“Okay...” He said trying to not go any further with that discussion.

You dropped your shoulders, when you saw how his grasp on wheel tightened and his jaw clenched. If you didn’t know him that well, you would say he was offended.

Whether it was because of anger towards him or how tired you were. You didn’t say anything back but leant your seat back to at least sleep for the rest of the ride.

“Oh no princess, you are definitely not sleeping.” He said just before he slapped your thigh. Small ‘Hey!’ fell from your lips. It was fair to expect him to snap and say you crossed a line.

You yanked your leg away from his grasp. He shut you up before you could say anything back. “You made me get all this way three in the morning. Ofcourse there would be consequences.”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” You said as you rubbed your thigh.

“You sent me a picture of you lifting your skirt and texted all those things you want to do with me. But when I come to pick you up, I saw you on the lap of some dickhead.”

“I was horny. We’ve decided to stop with fooling around. Life moves on James.” As you finished the sentence, his foot stepped on the pedal so quick that he had to use his arm to stop you from falling forward.

“Get in the back of the car.”

“James, I’m tired.”

“Get in the back, or I will make you bunny.” You didn’t said anything back. Bucky never called you bunny, if he didn’t have something on his mind. You knew better than to take the risk of getting him angrier.

You rolled your eyes before unfastening your seatbelt. He caught the sight of your underwear as you bent over to move through the gap between the seats. Even though Bucky saw your pink thong, you acted like you had the upper hand.

“Take off your skirt.” He said before coming next to you. He almost yanked off the door before squishing you on the backseat.

He pulled you by your legs, making you lie down. The cold leather of the seats caused goosebumps on your skin. That and you knew what he was capable of when he was angry.

And he was pissed.

“Not so tired ha, bunny?” His large hands wandered along your legs, moving slowly towards your hips.

A loud noise of your gulp echoed in your brain. You could get used to that view. You legs hooked to his shoulders. His charming face inches over your lucky thong.

“Tell me again bunny.” He said as his eyes locked on your figure under his, trying not to smirk at the wet patch on your thong.

“Tell you what?” You asked. Blinking at him with nothing else on your mind.

“Tell me again the last thing you told me before breaking up with me. So I would not have my way with you.”

“Uhm...” He started kissing on the top of your thighs. Index finger was tracing your slit over the thong.

“We can’t keep doing this and not expect one of us getting hurt. Ah-“ He bit inside of your thigh, sucking a gentle bruise. “James.”

He didn’t listen to you. If he ever did that was not it definitely.

“I’m listening. Continue.” Kisses, soft bites started decorating your body.

His hands placed next to your waist. His teeth brushed along the band of your thong. You wanted to raise your hips. But the way he looked up at you, the darkness in his eyes, made you stop.

You licked your lips, closing your eyes to concentrate. “We continue lying to our close ones and soon enough the lies would get out of—“ You stopped as he curled his finger like a hook to pull down your thong.

He mumbled something that you were sure was Russian as he got close to your heat. His eyes looked into your eyes. You knew he was daring you to stop.

If you stop I’ll stop too bunny.

He didn’t need to speak for you to understand.

“—hands. Lies get out of our hands. It is too risky and it does not worth it. We both know that this affair does not take LONG!”

He licked a stripe over your slit. As his cold fingers separated your folds. He loved to torture you like this.

“I don’t want any of us to get hurt.” You manage to finish your speech as you felt the familiar tingles build up.

The tip of his tongue flicked your clit and you had to hold on to something, his hair, to stop your thighs to close around his head.

“See this is where you are wrong, bunny. There isn’t any chance where you can hurt me...” He said as his fingers collected some of your juices, raising them to his lips. “Unless you try to neglect me of your sweet nectar.” He sucked his fingers clean, you heard a tiny ‘hmm’ as his fingers touched his tongue.

He raised his head to look at you when he was circling around your weeping hole. “Answer this, do you want to hurt me bunny?” He wanted to make you weep as much as your pussy.

“N-no. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then why you try to break things off?” The tip of his finger slowly pushed into your whole. He pulled it back before you could enjoy this. “Are you going to try and break things off again?” Another question he didn’t need to hear its answer to. He could read it from your tearful eyes and slight pout. “Oh bunny.” He whispered to himself, pride filling his chest.

His finger went back to circling around your hole as he used another one to toy with your clit. You could not stop yourself from curling your toes and try to pull him closer.

That arrogonat smirk on his face made a comeback. “Are you going to flirt with other guys who I’m sure does not even know what a clit is?” You shook head your again and he pressed his thumb.

“Fuck.” You said as you squirmed under his touch.

“Not the answer I am looking for. Do you want to try again bunny?”

“I—I’m not going to flirt with other guy a—and ohgod!” He pushed one inch of his finger inside curling the tip so it would reach your spot. You didn’t stop so he wouldn’t either. “I’m not going break things o—off.”

One more inch and you knew you would start to drip onto seats. Before you knew it, his mouth got back onto your clit. “James!” You said again as you pulled onto his locks.

“Shit! It’s only been a week but your pussy is crying out f’ me.” He said as he stood back up.

Your legs started shaking by the time. You whimpered at the lost contact of his fingers and lips. You also missed seeing him with your thighs wrapped around his head.

You knew if you touched yourself he would bite your fingers and deny you any sort of release. He quickly unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxers just low enough to take out his cock.

The tip was swollen red it was starting to leak some precum as he pressed it on your clit. “You are an attention whore bunny. It’s been only a week and I find you cosy with another guy. This deserves punishment don’t you think?”

“Please! I’ve been just trying to get your attention.” He smiled at your confession as he aligned his tip.

“Tell me you are mine and mine only. If you tell me that, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’m yours James. I’m only yours, I do not belong to anybody else.” He started slowly push into you.

He leaned over you to fix the hair got on your face. His lips brushed along yours when you moaned as he found the spot. Your legs started to got down but he held them back. Pushing your bent knee to your chest as he started moving.

His hips started rutting into you slowly. “So pretty like this bunny. All spread out for me.” His tongue darted out from his lips to giving you a longing kiss. All teeth and tongue, full of lust and desire.

His large hands pulled down your strapless top, letting your tits out. His tongue clicked on top of mouth. “And thinking I would be sharing them with some dickhead.” He pushed into you hardly, making you jump into his arms.

“I don’t share bunny. Never.” You knew he meant more with those words.

Air inside the car was getting thick because of your panting. His fingers started playing with your nipples to get them erect as he held your tits together and started licking and sucking both of them.

“Not the teeth ah!” You tried to protest but he had already sunk his teeth into your extra-sensitive flesh. Sweet melody of your cries caused him to increase speed. He wanted more.

You yelped as you tried to find something to hold onto, best thing you found was the back of his shoulder as you pressed your nails against his skin. Bruises and scratches would be greeting both of you as first thing in the morning but it didn’t bother you as long as it came with pleasure.

“FuckFuckFuck!” Familiar coil started to form under your belly button, and you threw your head back. “James, please please…”

“Wanna cum bunny? Is that it? Mumblin’ because you are too close?” He said after detaching from your nipples with a pop. The little numb was all swollen and covered in saliva.

“Y-yes oh.” He slammed his hips onto yours with more force and stayed pressed into you. “Cum for me bunny. Cream all over my cock, fuck, you filthy girl, so eager for a release.” He said as he stopped your wriggling hips against is. “Humpin’ me like a cute lil’ bunny.”

Your hips started moving involuntarily, chasing after your release. He helped you with continuing the pound into you. You were chanting his name unable to form more coherent words or sentences.

“That’s it bunny. Cum for me come on! I’ve got you.” Just after he was finished your release hit you like a wave, causing you to lose all the control of your mind and body.

But he didn’t stop, he increased his pace. Chasing his own release using your numb body. “‘So pretty like this bunny. Makes me want to keep you all to myself.”

“I’m all yours.” You whispered, truly meant it. As you became used to the swell on your chest each time you look at him.

You were really his.

“Yeah? Are you going to take my cum? Let me breed you? I’m sure you would love that don’t you bunny? All swollen with my cum, looking at me with those pretty eyes. Fuck!”

“Yes, yes yes give it to me please.”

“Fucking take it. You little cumslut.” You felt the wetness and warmth of his release shoot right inside of you.

He stood there with your legs wrapped around his waist. Looking at your tired and ruined figure. Taking the sight in just before he slowly pulled out.

“We—“ You tried to speak up, trying not to show him how much you missed his cock inside you already.

As he was putting his clothes back on you once were aware of this situation.

There was no We, you two were just fucking whenever one of you needed some release. No matter what you do to get his attention, all you would get was his dick pounding into you. It won’t be his heart.

Sound of glove compartment’s being closed made you raise on your elbows to look at him.

You saw him take out some tissues to wipe off his leaking cum. “Are you on the pill?” You shook your head, you knew how those were messing up with you. “I’m not ovulating, it’s fine.” He shook his head, “Still gotta get you some plan B. We shouldn’t be risking it.”

“Sure.” You tried to swallow the ache in your throat, and your pride.

You fixed your top and found your thong on the ground, raising it to put it on. Tension between the two of you was so thick that a saw could not even cut it.

He got back on his seat and started the engine. “The sun is about to rise, I can drive to a diner and got us some breakfast. There is a place I know makes your favourite. They are also good at making it.” He couldn’t hide his smile when he saw your smile at the mention of the food. He loved making you smile like that.

Sleep was the last thing on your mind, since he fucked your brains out. Since it had been more than 10 hours since you last ate something; growling sounds from your stomach was about to come. “Sounds good but I want to wear my skirt first.”

“Sure bunny.” He said as he tossed your skirt back to you.

And it was a second, just a second, that he felt like he could get used to it.

He could get used to having breakfast with you. He could get used to your face being the first thing he saw as he started his day. He could get used to having sex with only one person, someone really means something to him.

But when your phone buzzed, and he saw your dad’s name on the screen he got back into reality.

You sent it to voicemail, and leaned closer to him over the table. He saw the same smile again on your lips and the familiar spark on your eyes.

“So what do you say? Your place or mine?”

He smiled back at you, leaning over you. “Which one do you prefer, bunny?” He knew he could go on as long as you looked at him like that.

As long as you looked at him with love. Even if you were just realizing, he was already an addict for it.

[deathofacupid]

faults | peter parker

summary: peter's a nice guy, you liked him. key word being liked.

warning: non-con, slut-shaming (no nsfw/smut)

pairing: dark!peter x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k+ words (i've never done dark!peter before, just playing around with the idea)

check out my masterlist!

this can technically be read as either a 2nd part to this, or a stand-alone!

if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

(first person)

loud music drummed in my ears as narrowly avoided people. if i'm being honest, i'm not quite sure why i agreed to this in the first place.

aliyah, my best friend of seven years, was dead-set on planning a party for me. what type of person would i be to let her down like that? so naturally, i agreed, right?

only now was i regretting this.

the thing is, when she said "party", i thought she meant a couple people. maybe some school friends. i thought that spencer, this guy i just recently started going out with would be there too, but he's just ghosted me. like completely.

i haven't heard from him or anything, sucks, kinda.

...peter. he'd was coming, too.

i wasn't sure what was going on between us. it was subtle flirting, and i thought it was platonic. don't get me wrong, i really did like him at first, but now i'm not sure.

yeah, he's hot. but also not my type. granted, i don't really have a type, though i do think we'd be better off as friends. also, he wasn't the same as he used to be. and i know something's changed, even if i can't pinpoint what it is.

but lately, i'm not sure if we're on the same page about that. everyone thinks we're dating, because apparently you can't be just friends with a guy.

i'm genuinely unsure how to break that to him.

we did try one date, if you could even call it that. peter took me to the movies, but he never quite clarified what it was.

technically, i was a minor at that time, so maybe it was a friendly thing.

it didn't matter though, i told him that i wasn't interested in him. also... spencer, right?

spencer was a guy i'd been talking to, and i won't lie, he's pretty cute. 

i don't know. i try not to think about it because it makes my brain hurt. so, uh, yeah. that's that.

lost in my ever loving train of thoughts, i wasn't watching where i was going, and i ran into someone.

not just someone.

peter, of all people. the one guy i was trying to avoid.

lovely. absolutely lovely.

"heyyy, birthday girl! how's the party?"

"uh. yeah, it's... awesome," i winced.

"not your scene? okay, but, like, bright side?" he paused, as if he were waiting for me to say something, but when i didn't, he continued. "you're a legal adult! not a minor anymore, right?"

he had this unusual twinkle in his eye, like there was more to unpack. peter pulled me close to him, chugging wherever it was in the red solo cup he had in his hand.

pete's hand... was lower than comfortable, but i figured it was best not to say anything.

it was obvious he was totally out of it, and i inhaled sharply at the sharp stench of alcohol.

"wanna get out of here?" he asked, gripping me harder.

"um..." i wasn't sure what he was implying, because he literally could. not. take me anywhere.

"c'mon."

"wait, i—"

too late. i was already being dragged out the door. pete brought me out in front of his car... well, his old truck.

"no, no, no. you're way too drunk to drive, peter. you aren't taking me anywhere."

he groaned, rolling his eyes. "buzzkill."

i inhaled sharply, stopping myself from getting upset. he wouldn't normally do something like this... right?

"all right, fine, fine," he slurred. "h-how about... ooh! let's go to my place!"

i hesitated, unsure of how comfortable i felt with that. especially since he'd been so weird, with all the touching. i knew that he didn't live in a dorm and—

wait, what?

no, no. peter and i were friends, and i could trust him, right? it could have been the alcohol that was making the edges of my brain turn fuzzy, but i finally agreed.

"um, okay."

"mm. it's like..." pete hiccuped, and mentally facepalmed. "somewhere here."

"you're lucky i know the way, dummy." i said, smacking his head. he did nothing but grin back at me.

we walked in silence, or i did really, while he babbled on about the most random things. i didn't mind it, considering he was drunk.

it was chilly outside, and the cold air nipped at my skin, making me shiver. peter must have noticed this, because he swung a hand over my shoulders, lazily pulling me close.

i thought it best not to say anything, and also, he was warm. so, i guess i wasn't complaining all that much.

eventually, we got to his place. he fumbled with the keys, trying to shove it into the lock. unsuccessfully, might i add.

getting tired, i took them from him, unlocking the door.

"there we go." i pushed him inside, shutting the door behind me. "how about we get you come water?" peter didn't argue as i pulled open a cabinet, grabbing a cup. i filled it up with water for him and handed it over.

"drink it. all of it."

"yes, mom."

it seemed like that helped him sober up slightly, and i flopped down on the couch. that party had exhausted me altogether. peter was quiet as he sat down next to me, rubbing his eyes.

he looked over at me, but i kept my eyes fixed at the tv in front. i was flipping though channels, trying to find something good.

"look at me," he whispered.

i sucked in a breath, turning my head to do so, "yeah?"

and then, that's when it happened. so quickly and roughly, i didn't even register it. because one second we were face to face, and the next, he was grabbing my face, kissing me.

instantly, i pulled away, looking at him in horror. "what the fuck, peter? you can't— you can't do that!"

"do what?" he stared dumbly.

i just blinked at him, confused. "i..."

he kissed me, without consent. that wasn't okay, right? peter just looked at me, raising an eyebrow. was this because he was drunk?

"well, i- you just kissed me?"

"so? i thought you were chill. besides, you were basically asking for this."

what did he mean? asking for it? i wasn't asking for anything. i didn't even like him like that, and i thought he knew that. well, i mean, i was pretty sure. kind of. 

"b-but i wasn't." i was trying to make my voice more firm, but it probably (most likely) sounded very pathetic. clearing my throat, i tried again, "peter, i don't like you that way. as a friend, of course, but not... not more than that. this one time it's okay, since i guess it's also on me for not making that clear."

"don't like me that way? are you serious?"

"well-"

"you come around, to my house, dressed in that, and you expect me to think we're just friends? i did you the favor of waiting until you were 'of legal age' and all that crap, so what the fuck are you on about?"

"pe-"

"you've literally been sleazing around like a slut, practically begging for attention."

no, he was reading this wrong. i met him at the cafe i worked at, and we hit it off. as friends. besides, he was older than me. well, not by much, but still. and what did he mean by "slut"? it was my birthday party! that i didn't even want to be at! peter was the one who invited me here, right?

"and, on top of that, you've been leading me on. now that's fucked up."

"leading-? yes, okay, maybe a little. and- and i'm really sorry about that, but-" i backed up into the couch, trying to move away from him.

"i love you, y/n/n. and," he scoffed, "and i can treat you way better then any of these other guys."

love? he loves me? how- we've only known each other for a couple months. 

i thought, if anything, this was platonic flirting. was this really my fault?

"i think i should go, peter, we can talk later." i was uncomfortable now. no, past that.

i was scared. 

peter was scaring me.

"i'm not into you, and i'm-"

"seeing that other guy?" he finished. "what was his name, again? spencer? ever wonder what happened to him?" there was a dangerous look in his eye, and that's all it took for me to understand.

"oh my god, what did you do?"

"what i needed to," peter pinned my hands above the wall, "i was gonna wait, and do this the nice way, but you've left me with no choice."

"no, please, peter," i choked out, tears streaming down my face. 

"this is your fault, y/n."

and it must have been. i hurt him, so this was only fair. 

right?

taglist!

@whatsupstark

[jishyucks]

Bittersweet ‣ csb

‣ pairing: choi soobin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l, 'drunken confessions' cliche

‣ wc: 2.6k

‣ summary: in which a very drunk soobin is not afraid to tell you how he truly feels about you

‣ warnings?: soobin is (really) drunk, sorta really cliche but I like cliches, mentions of reader being shorter than Soobin

‣ an: first soobin fic huhhh?? this is a product of my severe itch to write, so it's something short but sweet! idk how good this is but I guarantee something cute ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

There was a bittersweet feeling behind waking up in daze. On one hand, you knew you had enjoyed a good, deep sleep, leaving you blissfully unaware of the world. But on the other hand, that same grogginess leaves you clueless about what had transpired while you were out like a light. 

But in this case, you could say that it was a lot more bitter than it was sweet, all because you were woken up from your phone being blown up by four different boys for no clear reason. In fact, if every single missed call and text message had rendered heat through your phone, you’re one-hundred-percent sure that it would have been blown to bits by now.

You sit up, head throbbing and fuzzy from the sudden change in position, and tap on the most recent caller. It was Beomgyu.

“Y/N! Finally!” You hear him sigh through the line. In the background, you can hear the other boys’ voices, accompanied by the bass of a song you couldn’t quite name. 

Your brows furrow, blinking away the sleep. “Gyu? What’s up? Are you guys okay? I was taking a nap.” The mix of confusion and curiosity wakes you up. 

There’s more ruckus on the other side of the line and you’re tempted to yell out for them to spill, only you’re sure that they’re not going to hear anything. You glance over at your clock through your pitch-black room and find that you’ve slept through dinner. It was nearing midnight. This only feeds your curiosity. 

“Y/N are you able to come to where we are right now?” Yeonjun’s taken over the phone. There’s urgency in his voice and now you’re worried, “We’re at a club downtown.” 

“Downtown?” You groan, “I’m not sure if…” To be fair, you’ve just woken up and now you’re being requested to drive down to the city on a Friday night? You were in no mood to—

“It’s Soobin.” 

“Soobin? What happened?” You shoot questions, “Is he okay? What is he even doing at a club?” That should’ve been your first question. Soobin wasn’t one to tag along on trips to the club. Usually, he and Kai would opt to visit an internet cafe while the others drank like their lives depended on it.

“We’re… not sure,” Yeonjun retorts, “But he’s just asking for you. If we touch him, he starts yelling and there’s no way we’re getting accused of anything.” You hear a familiar voice start screaming in the background and then you hear Yeonjun’s voice scold someone, “Beomgyu, I literally told you not to touch him until Y/N’s here… I’ll send you the location?”

“Go for it,” you say. At this point you’re already grabbing whatever hoodie you can find and you’re making your way down the stairs, “I’ll meet you guys there.” Yeonjun sighs out a relieved ‘thank you’ before ending the call.

You hastily slip on your shoes and grab your car keys, your mind racing with concern for Soobin. The drive to downtown feels like an eternity as you navigate through the city streets, trying to make sense of the situation. The club they mentioned is known for its loud music and lively atmosphere, and you can't help but wonder what Soobin, usually the reserved and introverted one, is doing there.

Finally, you arrive at the club and park your car nearby. At this hour in the night, you don’t even bat an eye at the parking meter sitting right next to your car. As you step out onto the bustling sidewalk, the thumping bass and muffled laughter spill out from the club's entrance. A small part of you is afraid to even go in, but as you take a deep breath, you prepare yourself for whatever awaits you inside.

The club's neon lights cast an eerie glow on the people entering and exiting, almost creating a movie-like atmosphere. The first thing you notice in the second you enter is the change in humidity. The place was stuffy and filled with people. You felt sticky even though you haven’t been there for an entire minute and you didn’t like it. 

With your heart pounding, you make your way through the crowd, following Yeonjun’s text that indicated they were at the far corner of the club. You’re relieved to see that it was in a quieter area of the club, away from the pulsating music and dancing bodies.

Taehyun notices you first, being the most sober out of all of them, he waves you over, calling out your name despite it being drowned out by the music. The other three look over, waves of relief washing over their faces when they realize that you’ve finally arrived. 

As you reach the boys, they part to reveal a very drunk Soobin. He sits hunched over a table, his left arm propping up his head while his right hand draws doodles on the surface before him. He looks almost identical to a child being babysat. 

“He said he wasn’t going to drink,” Taehyun explains, “Before we knew it he was all… like this.” He gestures to Soobin, scratching his temple.

You’re compelled to palm your face, sighing, “Is he sobering up, at least?” 

Kai shakes his head, eyes wide, “No. He keeps finding ways to get more drinks.”

“Yeah, he finished all mine,” Beomgyu pouts. He was sitting across from Soobin, arms crossed. There’s a line of empty glasses sitting right in front of him as evidence, “We’re just glad you’re here though. We were being serious about this.” You watch Beomgyu reach out to touch Soobin’s elbow with his index finger. Right at contact, Soobin scowls and starts yelling as if Beomgyu had just threatened to slice his skin with his fingernail, “He’s been doing that all night. He keeps asking for you, too.”

“He’s so far gone that he doesn’t even realize you’re here,” Yeonjun remarks, blinking at Soobin. "Hey, Soobin!" Soobin's ears perk up at the sound of his name, and he turns his head towards you, resembling a curious meerkat.

Soobin’s eyes meet yours and his face lights up, “Y/N, you’re here!” The lanky boy pushes himself off the table and tries to regain his balance before stumbling over to you. Without hesitation, you rush to his side and throw his arm around your shoulder, attempting to steady him. Being shorter than him, you're not sure if it's working perfectly, but you do your best to provide support.

You suck your teeth, “Choi Soobin, who told you to drink this much? Why aren’t you letting the boys help you?”

Soobin’s in a daze. He's not really catching on to the fact that you're talking to him. All he sees is your lips moving as you scold him. He reaches out to poke your neck and then your cheek. 

“I guess it’s a good sign that he isn’t screaming,” Yeonjun points out, “Let’s go, then?” 

You nod and then jut your head toward Soobin, “Can you help me out with him?” 

Yeonjun gives you a nod and moves over to grab Soobin's other arm, assuming that he would no longer scream. But the moment his hand touches Soobin, he starts yelling just as expected. “Okay! Okay!” Yeonjun steps back and gives Soobin a blank stare, completely done with the younger boy.

You stifle a laugh, “Binnie, can you let Yeonjun help me please?” Soobin nods and watches Yeonjun repeat his actions, taking his arm to support him. This time he doesn’t start yelling. 

The six of you navigate through the crowd, keeping your gaze fixed on the exit at the far end of the room. Once you finally make it outside, you direct everyone down the street, gesturing towards the direction to go, "My car's parked over there."

They simply nod and follow you, piling into your car without hesitation as you all get ready to leave. Soobin’s slumped in the passenger’s seat, his head wobbling side to side. He’s muttering words under his breath but you can’t quite make them out. 

You’re driving them back to their house, which was conveniently on the way back to your home. Everyone was too exhausted to make small talk, so a playlist you’ve chosen and Soobin’s murmuring fills the silence. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” Taehyun speaks up as you near their house. From where his voice was coming from, you can tell he was sitting directly behind you, “We owe you.” 

“It’s nothing,” You hum, “I’m just… trying to figure out why Soobin got drunk today. It’s out of character.” You knew your best friend, Soobin, inside out. He was the kind of person who would take a sip of alcohol and be satisfied, not really needing more than that. But then again, he could have just wanted to do it for fun. He didn’t need a reason to drink.

“I think it’s because Taehyun gave him a drink that tasted nothing like alcohol,” Beomgyu says, “Then it went downhill from there.” 

“You’re so nice, Y/N~” Soobin giggles, “You’re so so so so nice! The nicest of all persons I know.” He points out the window and continues, “See? You’re driving us to our house! That’s so nice! That’s why I really like you.” 

You breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening at Soobin’s comment. Unbeknownst to you, the other boys exchange alarmed glances, silently pleading for Soobin to stop before he reveals more than he intends to. 

“You’re a funny drunk, Binnie,” you say, trying to swat the comment away, regardless of the meaning. You turn into their street and park along the curb once you’ve reached their house. 

Soobin pouts, his expression displaying a mix of confusion and disappointment. "Funny how?" he persists, his drunken state causing his emotions to be more apparent. 

You quickly recover, mustering a playful smile to cover up any potential awkwardness. "Just funny in the way you talk and act," you reply, hoping to divert his attention from his previous statement. 

Soobin's pout slowly turns into a small grin, satisfied with your response. "I guess that's a good thing," he muses, his words slightly slurred. "As long as I can make you laugh, Y/N. I like when I make you laugh. I like seeing your pretty smile."

Your heart skips a beat and you quickly turn the car off. Has Soobin always been a flirty drunk? You try to shrug it off, getting out to help the drunk boy from his seat. The others are already out of the vehicle and Yeonjun’s waiting for you to pull Soobin out of his side. 

You open the door and a pout has returned on Soobin’s face, “You keep ignoring me… Do you not like me?” Yeonjun tries to speak to Soobin using his eyes, but obviously, with the intoxicated state that Soobin is in, the signals completely fly past his head.

You groan, helping him up, “Let’s get you some water before you go to bed.” 

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Soobin whines. He looks over at the older boy and frowns, “I don’t need your help.” He shrugs Yeonjun off and uses both of his arms to cling onto yours. Yeonjun lets the boy be, walking ahead to hold the door open for the both of you.

Soobin kicks his sneakers off out of habit, shifting a bit of his weight onto you in the process, “Do you want to play animal crossing or mario kart or—”

“Soobin, you need to go to sleep,” you say, “We can play tomorrow.” Together, you both ascend the stairs and eventually arrive at Soobin's room. He sighs at the sight of his bed, plopping onto his neatly fixed bed. The intoxicated boy lays down with his legs hanging off the edge. He swings them playfully and you can’t help but giggle at his state. You’ve rarely seen Soobin drunk, but now you know that when he’s drunk, he was like a 6-foot-tall toddler. 

You turn to grab water, but you’re met with Kai, who was already at Soobin’s door with a cup filled to the brim, “Do you want anything, Y/N?” 

You thank him and think, “Maybe tea would be nice before I leave.”

He nods, “I’ll prepare that for you.” 

You thank him again and bring the water to Soobin, who is now sitting up. He's slumped over, head looking too heavy for him to handle, “Drink up.”

Soobin squints at the beverage, leaning forward as if he were trying to read the non-existent writing on the glass. "Water is boring. I want... yakult and sprite... with soju," he declares, giggling at the thought of alcohol. As amusing as it is to see him so enthusiastic about alcohol, you shake your head in disagreement.

“That’s fair,” you sigh, “But I know you’ll regret not drinking this when you wake up tomorrow with a bad headache.” You urge him to take the cup. And after a few moments of deciding, he sighs and shakily takes the cup from you. 

Soobin takes a few long sips before he looks up at you, his gaze intense. "Don't... don't tell you that I told you this, but..." He glances around cautiously to make sure no one else is listening, "But... I love how you always look out for me." His words hold a hint of vulnerability, as if the alcohol has loosened his inhibitions enough to reveal his true feelings, “You take care of me, too. And…” Soobin takes another sip of his water and smiles. 

You wait for him to continue but he looks up at you, waiting for a response, “Well, it’s what friends do.” You don’t even need to think twice when it comes to Soobin. 

"Friends," he repeats, almost as if testing out the word on his lips. "Yeah, we're friends, right?"

You raise an eyebrow at his question, finding it slightly odd that he would question your friendship. "Of course. We've been friends for a long time," you reassure him.

Soobin chugs down the rest of the water and holds the cup out for you to take, “You’re right… but…”

You gently take the empty cup from him, setting it aside. The need for sleep is finally reaching Soobin’s eyes and you can see the way his eyes flutter shut before he forces them open. He scooches closer to his pillow and pouts. You give him the look for him to continue. 

“Don’t tell you I told you this but…” he repeats his actions from earlier, looking around, “I think I have feelings for you.” A giggle slips out of his lips and he nods in satisfaction.

You freeze in place and blink at the drunk boy in front of you, “Soobin, you’re drunk.” 

He shakes his head, eyes half closed and practically begging him to sleep, “I just drank water, I’m not drunk!”

“You are,” you sigh, trying to dismiss his earlier confession.

“I…may be drunk, but I still have feelings!”

He’s right. When you’re drunk, your emotions are simply amplified, but they are still your real emotions. Surely, this could be the case with Soobin. But then again, not everyone was the same when they were intoxicated, “Soobin, I’ll make a promise with you, okay?”

At this point, he’s being lulled to sleep by the alcohol, but he still nods and his words are coming out mumbled, “A promise?”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. When you’re sober and when I’m not tired. I want to hear what you have to say.” And, frankly, you had things (that were far overdue) to say too. 

“Promise?” 

The moment feels dreamlike, standing in Soobin's room with him being so vulnerable and open about his feelings (even if it could be the alcohol talking). You can't help but wonder if he'll remember any of this in the morning.

You nod. “Now go to sleep, dumbass. I know you want to.”

“I do,” He laughs, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Binnie.”

°•. ✿ .•°

on to another story ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ if I'm able to miraculously think of something... anyways thank you for reading! pls support the post by leaving a like/rb!

[confiscatedpeaches]

Night of Fireworks - Danny Johnson x !femReader - Pt 1

Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+/21+ due to drug and alcohol use.

Who knew a chance encounter with a stranger at a 4th of July party would haunt you forever. By begging you to attend, your bestfriend unknowingly sealed your fate.

Fic takes place in Roseville, Florida, 1993 in an AU where The Entity doesn't exist/pick Danny. Attempting to stay true to 1993, but I'm absolutely using two-way pagers (invented in 1995) for convenience.

Reader's physical description is provided, but feel free to change any info about the reader to suit your needs.

TW: Weed use, alcohol use, stalking, voyeurism, love interest is a literal serial killer, vulgarity, theft, mild smutty descriptions, use of puppy as a pet name, masturbation, reader is implied to be a virgin but isn't important to plot.

____________________________________________

June 27, 1993 - Roseville, FL - 4:15 PM Just moved to this podunk town and yet it's already showing promise. No need to kill yet; job interview in two weeks. Waitress at T's Diner, seen at morning shift 9:45 am. Female, early to mid-20s, slightly above average height, naturally dirty blonde hair box dyed to a dark mousy brown (roots are showing). Wallflower type, small friend group, lives alone, rarely calls parents. Quiet neighborhood with backyard against pond & woods. Easy access; likely highly vulnerable. Smokes weed, reads occasionally, music lover. Makes an adorable face when frustrated, sad puppy vibes. ***Attending 4th of July party at 302 Oleander Drive at 9pm with co-worker Hailey Daye.

____________________________________________

Frat Party | 302 Oleander Drive | 11:45 PM:

You shut the bathroom door behind you, muffling music and other loud party bullshit. Dark and damp, but surprisingly clean. The only reason you even came to this party was because your bestfriend Hailey practically got down on her knees and begged you to go. The private firework show and free booze was nice, but this just isn't really your scene.

You lift your bag to check for a joint and lighter. Next to your pager you spot your trusty red zippo lighter a pill bottle. The lighter was a gift from someone special you don't talk to anymore, but you couldn't let them go just yet. Engraved on the side of the lighter was a message that read "KISS: keep it simple, stupid!" Inside the pill bottle was a carefully made joint packed with kief and a hybrid mix you got from your dealer.

The desire to smoke drags you out of the bathroom and towards where you last saw Hailey with her new boy-toy. Creeping around the drunk passed out teenagers, empty red solo cups, and shoes, you find your way to the kitchen. It's less crowded, only five or so people and many empty pizza boxes. Hailey smiles and nurses a soda from across the room. Her boyfriend in the middle of a genuinely hilarious drug-fueled rant about something sports related. Can't tell what sport though, dude is smashed. At least he's passionate about something. She looks over at you, and you saunter over.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out for a smoke and walk home after if you wanna join me." You say.

"Sorry babe I'd love to, but I promised to be a DD and I'm not leaving for a few hours."

"I think I'll just go by myself then, it's only a few blocks."

With that she gives you a hug and a quick "be safe" before you walk away. Weaving to the back door, you step into the damp night. Loud music vibrating through the concrete beneath you. Fireflies swirl in the distance. Closing your eyes as a light breeze rolls in; a welcome break from the smothering July air. A moment of calm before the storm.

"Hey, can I borrow a lighter?"

You turn, shocked and annoyed to find somebody else in the humid Floridian abyss.

"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you," he says with a disarming laugh.

The shadowy figure lights up his pager providing a brief but faint view of his face. His teeth reveal a soft friendly smile.

"Ha, no worries. Here."

Offering your lighter, he takes it to light a joint of his own. His hands spark into existence in the light of the flame. Strong, but well manicured fingers with a couple ink stains. Something about him makes the air thick and heavy like mud.

"Parties not really your thing huh?" He asks, the cherry of his joint bobbing your way.

"Oh..! Honestly, no. I mean I can't complain, it's been pretty good so far."

A series of loud bangs pulls your attention from the stranger. From above loud pops of red, white, & blue flutter and invade the sky. A swarm of yellow sparklers overtaking them. A blue light fires above the rest, only to be overshadowed by a red one.

You turn to continue speaking with the mysterious stoner, but you're met with an empty patch of grass. White rage hits you. That fucker stole your lighter! You consider staying and hunting for that jerk, but you're just too tired for this. You yank out your pager and send a message to Hailey.

Shoving it into your bag, you pop a tape in your portable cassette player and begin angrily walking home. Your wired headset blocking out the rest of the party sounds. Mumbling the words to a Cake song as you walk.

I want to love you madly I want to love you, love you Love you madly

After a few blocks, you check your pager. To your surprise, a message from Hailey sits in your inbox.

Between the booze and frustration you struggled to recall any remarkable details about him. You text Hailey back.

She responds instantly.

____________________________________________

July 5, 1993 | 1703 Oleander Drive | 12 AM:

Stepping up to the front door of your apartment, you stick in the keys and walk inside. It's dark, which was to be expected. Dropping your bag onto the floor. Flicking on the light, you notice everything is slightly less messy than you left it. A couple to-go boxes remain, but the dishes look freshly washed. A thick smell of cheap cologne hangs in the air. You shake your head. This is crazy, who would break in just to do the dishes? It's been a long night, surely you must've done them this morning during your high-as-a-kite cleaning binge. The smell must be from a neighbor or something.

You walk into the tiny kitchen (ignoring the freaky squeaky clean dishes) and open a drawer to get another lighter. It's not the lighter you want, but it's the lighter you have.

Pulling out the joint, you unlock the back door to your balcony. It's a small balcony, only able to fit a small chair and a side table, but you couldn't complain. At least nobody complains about the smell of weed. Being up against the woods was a blessing. Private and safe. After sitting down you light your joint. Music getting better and better with each inhalation.

____________________________________________

July 5, 1993 - 1703 Oleander Drive - 12:15 AM Took a big risk. Poor little puppy lost her precious lighter. Stole it just to annoy her. She looked so fussy and angry when she couldn't find me, even though I was less than 20ft away. Priceless; couldn't snap a pic as the flash would've given me away. I'll have to create another opportunity in the future. Fortunately, it was dark enough to remain unidentifiable & invisible. A cloudy night does a lot to hide a person. Although if she had remembered anything about me, it would be easy enough to pack up and leave now. Nobody knows me yet. My own desires and excitement are making me too bold. Stay calm and stick to the plan. 12:16 AM. She's smoking on her balcony, as per usual. One-hit-wonder over here coughs every other hit; she should really switch to edibles. The need to interact with her is growing stronger. Can't believe she didn't make a bigger deal out of those dishes. While I was inside I couldn't resist the urge to wipe lipstick off of her glass using my gloves just to put it to my lips for a taste. It tasted like chapstick, too far gone to have retained her scent. The disappointment only fueled my desire for her. My attraction towards her is ruining everything; this is supposed to be a test run. I suppose this is more of a Danny design than a Ghostface one. I wanted to steal one of her panties, but they were all clean and worthless to me in that state. My hand isn't doing it for me anymore, I need my cum to mix with her fresh slick in those cotton undies. I'm gonna make this bitch fuckin' scream when she cums on my cock. 1:12 AM. She's touching herself again, but she's still unsuccessful. Stupid whore can't even find her own clit. Don't worry puppy, I'll find it for you. Vibrator can't replace what you really need huh? Went through her phone book and journal, no known boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, or any ex-anything for that matter. Could she be a virgin? The thought makes my cock twitch.

____________________________________________

NOTES:

Sorry for the lack of real smut, but Danny has to take his time with you. So be fucking patient, you wanna be a good girl right? Act like one.

This is my first Danny x reader fic, so please let me know what you'd like to see in the future!

The song the reader sings is Love You Madly by Cake.

[sungbeam]

nonidol!ji changmin x bff!fem!reader

after the death of his best friend, changmin’s been left to grieve and wallow. but when you suddenly come back to him in the form of a ghost, he realizes that this might be his chance to right some wrongs. (aka; changmin has seven days with your ghost to figure out why you’ve been returned to the land of the living.)

▷ genre, warnings. childhood friends au, you are literally dead./major character death, mentions of a car accident, implied past bullying, swearing, fluff, comedy as a coping mechanism, angst, comfort/hurt, grief and survivor’s guilt, so much crying that you might get tired, just telling you now it is not meant to be a romantic plot but there r hints bc i’m a sucker, i’m not religious but ur a ghost(?), getting over one’s best friend’s death is not easy folks so that’s why y/n goes ghost B)

▷ total wc. 16.8k </3

▷ permanent taglist. @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @ethereal-engene

a/n: hey hello! ik this prob won’t get a lot of interaction bc it’s a tbz fic and non-romantic main, but it would mean a lot to me if u reblogged and shared this :’) otherwise, hope u enjoy, and here's some mood songs: yellow (coldplay), last (dvwn), & let's hurt tonight (onerepublic)

DAY ZERO

JUYEON wasn’t really the best at approaching people in this way. There was something about sad people that made him feel helpless, and the fact that this was Ji Changmin, one of his closest friends, the helplessness had collapsed into a sinkhole in the pit of his stomach. Even Chanhee, someone who was arguably closer to Changmin, sat silently after Kevin’s proposed question.

Kevin lifted the straw of his coffee to his lips, eyes glued to a crack in the table they surrounded in the local coffee shop by the school campus. “So… no one has any ideas?”

Sad, drooping heads.

Chanhee blew a puff of air out from his lips as he propped his chin onto his palm. There seemed to be a permanent frown etched into his face nowadays, not far from how Changmin looked. “I wish that we knew how to get through to him, y’know? I think if he would just let us, then we could at least be there with him.”

“He’s grieving, Chanhee,” Kevin replied firmly, but not unkindly. “If he wants alone time, then he deserves that time to himself. But I do think that he needs to come out of his apartment. I mean… his parents will not be happy when they find out he’s skipped almost a month’s worth of classes.”

It had been about a month since that dreadful night you died. Changmin and his friends had all awoken to the news that there had been an Accident. It was on the corner of two streets, on the opposite side of campus, that you had been run down by a drunk driver on your way home from a late shift. Since then, Changmin refused to crawl out of his apartment, insisting on hoarding himself away. He’d only come out of the apartment to let Gana frolic and do his business, but would then proceed to go straight back to his hobbit hole.

This was a far cry from the Changmin they knew—the one who would drag his friends out to the permanent Haunted House attraction in the middle of July, the one who refused to return to his own apartment until he nailed a dance move just right. But the day you died seemed to be the day that Changmin had as well.

Juyeon chewed on his bottom lip, knee bouncing up and down fervently with anxious energy. He hated feeling helpless. As Kevin and Chanhee continued to talk themselves aloud through their own thoughts, Juyeon pulled his phone out from his pocket and sent Changmin a series of texts. When he finished, he shoved the phone under his thigh to keep from constantly checking the screen for disappointment.

“…could always call up Sunwoo and drive him up here. I’m sure he would gladly intrude to cuddle—”

Juyeon was suddenly yanked back out from tuning in when he felt his phone vibrate. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he watched the little bubbles appear under Changmin’s name.

juyo: hey changminnie~ wanna come get bbq with us tonight? it’s on me !

juyo: ice cream afterward on me too

kyu: okay

kyu: what time?

———

Changmin didn’t know what possessed him to come out of his apartment to hang out with his friends. For far too long, he had refused to hang out with anyone else besides Gana and his lonesome. But something in him ignited at the sight of Juyeon’s texts and offers; perhaps it had been his stomach and dwindling bank account.

Nevertheless, he told Juyeon that he would meet him there, and he wasn’t about to flake on his word.

He exhaled a haggard sigh from his mouth, the breath turning to visible air in front of him. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold nipping at his skin, but the sensation felt nice, felt normal. He ducked his head, puffy and tired eyes hidden beneath a red baseball cap, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark hoodie as he walked across the street to reach the lively and warm embrace of the bbq restaurant.

He spied his trio of friends lingering just outside the door, small smiles on their faces as they talked about something amongst themselves. Chanhee threw his head back in a laugh at something Juyeon said, and Changmin suddenly felt out of place without even being there. What if he was just going to ruin the mood? He didn’t want them to be sad or walk around eggshells around him. What if he cried, just out of nowhere? That would definitely ruin the mood—

Before he could swivel on his heel and turn back, Kevin caught his eyes from down the road, his face lighting up. He raised a hand to wave him over, catching the attention of the other two who turned to look. “Yo, Changmin! You made it, man.”

Changmin tried for a smile, his shoulders relaxing. This was fine; he was going to be okay. “Hey guys.”

Chanhee immediately rushed over to him and crushed him in an embrace. “I can’t believe I’ve missed you,” he lamented into Changmin’s jacket.

Changmin chuckled, affectionately patting his friend’s head. “Well, I’m not surprised. I missed you, too, though.”

When Chanhee pulled back, there was an expression of stark disbelief on his face. But before he could point out that Changmin actually admitted to missing him, Changmin was greeted by Kevin and Juyeon.

Juyeon pulled him into a small side hug. “How’re you feeling?”

Changmin swallowed. The tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and his inner voice was shouting at him to hold back. He sucked in a breath. “I’m… I’m okay. How’re you guys?”

There was an exchange of looks between the other three as if they didn’t believe him or they were all silently trying to figure out what best to respond with. Kevin was the one who said, “We’re doing okay, too. Come on; our table’s ready.”

And that was perhaps the very response that Changmin was hoping for—and yet, at the same time, he wondered if he would have liked it better if they called him out for lying instead.

———

Changmin stumbled into his apartment, hand flapping against the wall blindly to find the lightswitch. His dark bangs hung in his eyes as the lights flickered on. He winced, digging his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes to stave the brightness. As he kicked the front door shut, he heard the jingling of Gana’s collar as his pup came up to circle around his legs in warm greeting.

He bent down slightly to scratch behind Gana’s ears. “Hi, boy. Yeah, I’m back.”

He let out yet another sigh and dragged himself over to the couch, collapsing onto the cushion dented with the imprint of his butt from heavy use. Gana leapt onto the couch beside him, dutifully taking residence on the cushion and resting his fluffy head in Changmin’s lap.

For the first time in a month, Changmin had smiled, laughed even. He didn’t like admitting that it had made him feel good; he didn’t like that he could be happy when you’d died so soon ago. The devil perched on his shoulder whispered insecurities into his ear and that high he had been on while out with Chanhee, Kevin, and Juyeon disappeared. Replacing it was that gut-wrenching guilt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even describe the deep sadness that fell over him like a tsunami wave. Everything had come to deafening silence, like when he would dunk his head beneath water. Everything became muted… he was slipping again.

Changmin leaned his head against the back of the couch and let the tears trail down the sides of his face. He was trying to breathe—inhale, exhale, inhale—but he would only choke on the sounds of his sobs.

Gana crawled into his lap now, warm mass like a hug. It was the only thing grounding Changmin to reality now.

Do you even deserve to be happy? He wondered to himself, shifting to sit up and wipe the tears from his cheeks with the backs of his hands. Did you deserve to go out and be happy when Yn can’t?

Changmin swore under his breath, angrily pawing at his face again, willing the waterworks to stop. “God, stop crying, you fucking wimp,” he growled at himself.

It wouldn’t help; of course, it wouldn’t help.

His frame trembled and quaked and… and…

Changmin gently moved Gana off of his legs so he could make his way over to the little side table beside his TV. It used to be where he stashed yours and his favorite movies, video games, and board games. But now, it had become home to pictures of you and him, tealights, and your favorite plushie that he kept from when your parents asked to meet with him.

All of it. Why was it here if only to remind him of the person he treasured most lost to the cruel hand of fate?

He collapsed before the table, knees pressed between his body and the cold, hard ground. He clasped his hands together, tears pouring down his face. “If I could just see you again, Yn… just one more time,” he managed to choke out. “Just one more time. Please.” Would that even be enough?

DAY ONE

LIGHT filtered in through the shutters of the apartment windows and directly into Changmin’s eyes, but what woke him up was the incessant sound of Gana’s barking. Changmin groaned, body rolling around onto its side as he reached for his phone charging on the nightstand. It was ten in the morning, well past his first lecture of the day’s allotted time.

He sniffled, hand reaching up to gently touch his puffy eyelids. God, eight hours and he still woke up sore as—

“Jesus, it’s still a pigsty in here.”

Changmin froze. Gana kept barking.

He blinked. He must have been hearing things, because he couldn’t have just heard your voice say that from out in the living room.

Changmin shook his head. He really needed some coffee or something. Now he was hallucinating you? How much worse could his mental health get? Maybe he really should have accepted that offer from your parents when they’d asked him if they could pay for any counseling services he needed. He rose from the bed with a yawn, arms stretching up over his head.

Gana had stopped barking at this point, and Changmin mentally thanked whatever it was that was making his dog go mad for…

The thought ran dry in his head like words dying upon his tongue. He stepped over the threshold between his bedroom and the main living space, and his eyes landed on something awfully peculiar… Not something, rather someone. You. He was staring right at you leaning down to scratch Gana behind the ears.

His heart leapt into his throat and his eyes fluttered shut. This could not be happening.

“Holy shit!” Your exclamation made his eyes shoot open. You were gaping at him now as if you were surprised to see him. “You’re supposed to be at class!”

He couldn’t help but retort in his own defense, “And you’re supposed to be dead!” But here you were, in the flesh—in an old T-shirt from your high school Science Olympiad team and comfortable sweats—petting his dog.

Changmin grasped his bedroom door frame, free hand flying to hold his head. “Oh my god, I’m going insane. What was in that ice cream last night?”

There was no plausible reason for you to be standing in his living room right now. Not when you had been dead for an entire month. He had been at the funeral, had sobbed his heart out over the pile of dirt they’d shoveled over your grave. A prickling sensation came to the corners of his eyes and he willed himself to not start crying again. He didn’t even know he had tears left to cry after the session he’d had last night.

“Changmin.”

He shuddered.

Your voice was softer this time as you slowly moved away from Ghana. “Changmin, it’s Yn Ln. You know me.”

He peeked out from behind his hand and sniffled. Nevermind, he was definitely crying. “Stop,” he rasped, shaking his head. “Stop. This is just a figment of my imagination. Yn is not really here; she’s definitely—” His voice broke and he let go of the door jamb so he could bury his face into the palms of both of his hands. He let out a shaky breath. “I need coffee.”

He averted his eyes from looking in your direction as he shook some sense into his head and headed straight for the kitchen to start the coffee pot. He could hear Gana’s collar jingle as he bounded after him.

You could only stand there where you had been before and watch with sad eyes as he kept his back to you the entire time the coffee brewed.

One scaldingly bitter cup of brew later, Changmin leaned his back against the counter to face you. His face was set in a permanent grimace from the gross after taste of that hot bean juice, but the slight buzzing sensation at the back of his head was definitely a sign of alertness. Okay, now to solve all his problems.

“So you’re a ghost?” Were the first words from his mouth.

Your face dropped into a deadpan that was so you, Changmin almost broke out into hysterical giggles. “That’s your first question?”

“It’s a very valid question.”

You sighed. “Yes. Sure, I’m a ghost.”

He narrowed his eyes on you, lifting the mug in his hand to his lips, then frowning when he realized it was empty. “Okay, but how do I know you’re really Yn? How do I know you’re not just a projection of my crippling depression, and that you’re actually my Yn?” He didn’t know where the my had come from, but he was going a little too insane to care.

You made a face at him, nose wrinkling up cutely. He could see you in all the little mannerisms, and to be honest, he wouldn’t be surprised at all if you turned out to be simply a figment of his imagination because he knew you that well. He could probably resurrect you into an animated character if he knew how to animate in the first place. “Changmin, how am I supposed to prove to you I’m actually Yn? You can’t just recognize me?”

Maybe his brain was just tuning into work mode to block out all of the emotions. At the moment, he let his playful, curious side win his body over. “I dunno,” he grinned. “Ooh! What is my middle name?”

“You don’t have a middle name.”

“What is my favorite movie?” He stopped short, his pointer finger tapping his chin. “Wait, that’s too obvious. When’s my birthday?”

You squinted at him in disbelief. “So your favorite movie is too obvious, but your birthday, which is on your birth certificate, isn’t?”

He huffed. “Okay, what did I wear to Juyeon’s fourteenth birthday party then?”

Your hand moved to hold your forehead. “Changmin, how the fuck am I supposed to remember that.”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT YN WOULD SAY!”

“THAT’S BECAUSE I AM YN, YOU IDIOT.”

When Changmin doubled over himself in laughter, your lips settled into a thin line. He thunked his mug onto the counter with a concerningly loud crash so he could brace himself against something with one hand. (Maybe he really was going insane.)

You fixed him with a look. “Are you done messing around, Ji Changmin?”

His eyes, squinting from all his laughter and the biggest grin on his face, twinkled from where he peered over the counter at you. The sight almost brought a smile back to your face. “You’re just fun to mess with, Yn-ie.”

———

Reality came crashing down on Changmin in as little as five minutes.

“So… you’re a ghost?”

This time, when he posed the question, it was smaller and mellow, his body settled onto the couch with his legs pulled up to his chest as he peered up at you through watery eyes and a childlike disposition. Gana had retreated into his bedroom to snuggle into his bedsheets, leaving only you and Changmin in the main living space. You were perched on the wooden coffee table across from where he sat on the couch. You didn’t have it in you to be annoyed at him when he looked so… looked so unlike himself. This wasn’t the Changmin you knew before: ballsy, smiley, unafraid. There was something so blanched about him, like he was washed over in some kind of filter. It was unnerving.

You bit your upper lip, hands drumming against your legs. “Yeah.”

He stared at you for a moment, then pointed at the TV remote next to you. “Move that.”

“Pardon?”

“Move it,” he repeated.

You moved it.

“Why aren’t you just phasing through shit if you’re a ghost?” He asked, hands tightening around his knees.

His logic, or well—some semblance of logic—was trying to help him process this, that much you understood. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I was literally just manifested here.”

“So you know you’re dead?”

You nodded. “I don’t know how long I’ve been dead for—”

“Three weeks and four days,” he blurted. He averted his gaze for a moment and picked at a stray thread on the couch. “Three weeks… and four days.”

And suddenly, you felt as though you reflected how he looked right now: eyes shining, frown engraved into your face. Your body went numb from the shock and the sudden realization that he had been counting. You swallowed. How were you supposed to comfort him through your own death?

“Can I hug you?”

Your head perked up and you met his small gaze again. You nodded. “Yeah,” you cleared your throat and held out your palms like an offering, “yeah, c��mere, Kyu.”

At the sound of his nickname, he practically pounced across the gap between you two, and into your arms. You were able to grab hold of him and keep your own body upright, and you felt him fist the material of your shirt in his hands as he sobbed into your chest. He could feel you, all of you—could smell your shampoo, feel the warmth of your neck. He could squeeze and grapple onto you as if you were truly here. God, what he would have given to hug you one last time. His knees were definitely bruised from how hard he hit the floor, but he had slid down far enough that he was clinging onto and crying into your stomach, all while one of your arms came around his top half and the other settled comfortably in the nest of his hair.

“I—” he blubbered into your dampened shirt, “—I missed you so much, Yn. I missed you so bad. I—I can’t—I don’t even know what to do without you. I missed you so, so badly.”

You squeezed him a little harder and leaned down to lay your body over his. “God, I’m sorry, Kyu. I missed you, too. You’ll be okay, hm? You’re gonna be okay.”

He shook his head against you in insistent refusal. “Mm-mm. No. Can’t do this fucking shit without you—can’t do this ‘live your life’ shit without my—my best friend.” He wasn’t even sure how he could manage to get words out. Even if he had known he would be given the opportunity to speak to you one last time, he wouldn’t ever be able to settle on the right words to tell you. This moment was no different. All that spilled from his mouth was nothing short of the truth, though.

———

Hours later, you and Changmin laid on the length of the couch with his face tucked into your neck and his body lying atop yours. You’d coaxed him to move with you onto the couch, knowing that his legs were probably screaming in agony for being pressed against the hardwood floor. He hadn’t said anything for a long time; only deigning to lay there in silence as he assured himself that you really were a solid mass beneath him. He came to realize one thing in particular, however—you lacked a heartbeat.

Everything about you seemed perfectly and incredibly human, except for that fact. He felt no pulse aching from where he nestled by your jugular. All of those crime dramas he’d spent hours upon hours watching with you had come in handy in learning how to feel for pulses. He tried to get past the fact that you didn’t have one; after all, you were dead.

His fingers wrapped around a strand of your hair, and he voiced a thought aloud, “Did they lock you out of heaven or something?”

Your laugh came out like a snort. “If anything, I was booted from hell.”

“Wow, so you died and gained a sense of humor.”

You flicked his forehead, and Changmin grinned, rubbing the spot. “Ow. Rude.”

“Bet you wish I could phase through things now, huh?”

He turned his face into your neck again and his voice came out nasally, “That would have been cooler.”

You huffed indignantly. “Don’t think I didn’t miss your little shrine of me, Mr. Cool Guy.”

Changmin groaned and hid his burning face from you. It was suddenly far too hot in this room, and your laughter was a little too bright to be a good representation of the dead. He grunted. “You died, Yn. What was I supposed to do?”

“You kept Bruno for me though,” you said with a soft sort of smile as you ran your fingers through his hair, making eye contact with the angry, little red t-rex plush sitting on the table by the TV. “He seems to like it here.”

“Do you like it here?” He asked then. “I mean, why are you here, Yn-ie? If—if you’re real, then why are you in the land of the living and fully corporeal?” He braced himself on the sides of the couch then so he could push up. When his eyes clashed with yours, he realized just how close your faces were, and reddened, immediately spacing himself from you to the other end of the couch.

You frowned slightly at the action, but thought nothing of it as you shifted to match his seated position. “I’m not sure. I just remember the accident, the world fading to black, and now…” You gestured to yourself and all around you. “Now I’m here.”

“How do you know things though? Like, how do you know you’re a ghost? How do you know you’ve been dead?”

You could only shrug. “Injected into my brain? Can’t really answer that, Changmin.”

Changmin raked a hand through his hair, licking his lips. “Okay, well you had to have been brought back here for a reason right? Maybe to right a wrong? Something you have to finish or satisfy before you’re allowed into the afterlife or whatever comes after death,” he reasoned with his hands gesticulating madly like flapping wings.

“I know that I have seven days,” you offered.

The world crumbled and the blood drained from his face. “Seven days?” He whispered.

You nodded solemnly. “Just one of those things,” your tone went quiet like an apology, “I guess.”

Changmin’s eyes shuddered. Seven days. Seven days. Seven… okay, he could do this. Seven days to think of all the things he was supposed to say to you and to finally say them. And also, to figure out why you were sent here in the first place. Who knew what would happen to you if you weren’t able to accomplish whatever goal you were supposed to reach? He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Okay,” he managed to say.

“Well, I know where we should start,” you suggested with the slight lift of your shoulder.

He glanced at you in waiting.

“We need to clean this messy ass apartment up.”

DAY TWO

CHANGMIN couldn’t possibly sleep when he knew you were just waltzing about the apartment throughout the night. You had assured him that, as a ghost, you didn’t need to sleep, nor eat, nor breathe, nor shower, nor do anything else of the normal human sort. Yet he laid awake in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Even Gana was fast asleep, curled up at the foot of his bed.

The two of you had spent the entirety of yesterday cleaning up his dump of an apartment. You’d said something about how “spring cleaning isn’t just a spring thing” and handed him a duster. He’d gone along with it, even moving to eventually start playing some music to fill the noise. It was just nice to be in your presence for once.

Even when you were alive, you’d encourage him to clean; maybe even pick up around the place for him when he was too tired from dance practice and his job and his life. But there was no doubt that cleaning around the apartment space made him feel just a little bit refreshed, a little more alive and awake.

But clearly, all that work hadn’t been enough to tire him out.

And he tried to fall asleep, but sleep would not grace him with its mercy.

It was when the sky outside oxidized into a rusted color that his eyelids finally fell. He blinked once, and the next moment, his alarm blared beside him.

An arm shook him awake. “Kyu, wake up.”

He whined, shaking you away. “Nooo,” he groaned and tugged the covers back over his head. The alarm kept going.

“I made coffee.”

He exhaled through his nose and reluctantly pulled the covers down to see you. You were still here, sitting on the edge of his bed in that same, old ratty T-shirt with your hair falling in your eyes, and a sweet, fond smile on your face… “It wasn’t all a dream?” He pondered aloud, voice gravely from exhaustion.

You shook your head. “Nope. Now, get up. Time to go to school.”

At that note, he let out a loud groan, sweeping the covers over his head in protest. You laughed as you exited the room, and Changmin could only smile to himself as he let that sound echo in his ears.

———

“Do I really have to go to class, Yn-ie? It’s Tuesday.”

You sent him a look as you strolled beside him on the sidewalk. “Yes, because it’s Tuesday.”

Changmin pursed his lips as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. While you were able to get him out of bed, you weren’t able to get him to at least look more Changmin. That was, he still walked out of the house in a hoodie and pajama pants and zero product in his hair. You did manage to convince him to slap on deodorant, so you could call that a win.

The sky was just bruising to a purple color as the sun took its sweet time trekking up into its perch in the sky. Changmin knew he shouldn’t have chosen such an early lecture, but he and Juyeon were supposed to weather it together. Guilt suddenly swirled in his stomach at the thought—he’d abandoned Juyeon.

His eyes flickered back at you and your bare arms, wondering if ghosts got cold. But based on the fact you hadn’t stolen a hoodie from his closet, he figured they didn’t then.

As you and Changmin neared the lecture hall, having well stepped onto the college campus for the first time in a month, you both stalled. There were a handful of people milling about, but most of them were too tired to care about other people just standing around anyway.

“Okay,” you began, “remember that when you get in there, you can’t talk to me or about me.”

His breath hitched. “Why can’t I talk about you?”

“Because they’ll think you’ve gone crazy.”

“But I haven’t.”

You chewed your upper lip. “You can see me, Changmin, but they can’t. People are going to look at you weird if you suddenly turn to your side and start talking to the air next to you.”

So that was how ghosts worked? He had to snap his brain into focus. “People already look at me weird,” he muttered, staring across at the path to the entrance of the lecture hall. He could still recall all of the pitying looks he’d received everywhere he went. He couldn’t stomach it anymore. Everyone knew that you and he had been the best of friends, practically attached at the hip. You would sit with him through hours of dance practice and be the loudest one in the audience; he would remind you to get sleep during your worst exam seasons and shuttle you home after late nights at the lab.

His eyes shuttered, and for a moment, that wave of guilt washed over him. He should have been there that night; he should’ve been there to take you home—

A hand on his arm. He sniffed, swiping at his eye. “I’m okay,” he insisted before you could say anything.

He began making his way towards the entrance with you in tow.

When he found the lecture room number, he stopped just short of it. Those feelings of insecurity and fear bubbled up inside of him like bile in his throat. He wanted to turn back and run to the safety and seclusion of his apartment.

But when he felt your hand take his and give it a gentle squeeze, his heart swelled. He glanced back at you, then his eyes widened when he saw someone coming down the corridor. Changmin ducked into the lecture hall, his hand gripping yours tightly.

There were… way too may seats and people, he realized, as he surveyed the room. A couple people recognized him and shot him surprised glances, but otherwise, no one paid him much attention. The lights were dimmed to half-brightness, and the professor had yet to arrive.

“Go sit next to Juyo,” you whispered to him, nudging him toward the left stairs. Up in one of the middle rows sat Juyeon with a hood pulled up over his head, practically nodding off to sleep. “He looks so sad all alone.”

Changmin sucked in a breath, then made the journey up the stairs.

He cleared his throat when he reached Juyeon’s seat, the one beside him always left empty in case Changmin ever did show up to class. Juyeon’s head shot up, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers, a grin slowly forming on his face. Changmin let a small, dimpled smile come to his face.

“I think I’m dreaming, dude,” Juyeon said. “Good to have you back, Changmin-ah.”

Changmin let out the breath he had been holding. “This seat’s not taken, is it?”

Juyeon gave a hard shake of his head. “I’d make a joke about it being some other guy’s, but I’m way too tired. Sit down, for God’s sake.”

Changmin lowered himself into the seat next to his friend, letting go of your hand so he could get settled. He almost turned his head to ask where you were going to sit, but reigned in the urge. He could talk to you afterward, no matter how much he wanted to talk to you now, maybe even ask Juyeon to move down a seat for you.

But then he felt your presence right next to him as you perched on the side of his chair’s armrest. No, you weren’t going anywhere just yet.

About an hour later though, Changmin and Juyeon trudged out of the lecture hall side by side, hands lifting to shield their eyes from the sunlight peeking through the clouds. They had managed to drag each other through the contents of that lecture—mainly Juyeon giving Changmin miniature summary lectures on the points that he didn’t know (everything). No new information from that lecture had been acquired.

“—you should’ve seen when we got our papers back,” Juyeon shook his head with a breathy laugh tumbling out of his mouth. He brushed a hand through his hair, squinting at the daylight. “Absolute madhouse. Professor had to extend his office hours because the line out of his office was so long.”

Changmin smiled widely. “I really should go to office hours, huh? That would be the smart thing to do.”

“You know, I tell myself that everyday, and yet…” Juyeon shrugged. “I never heed my own advice.”

When the two of them reached the intersection where you and Changmin had stood at just earlier this morning, Changmin’s head perked up, eyes searching for you. At some point, it had slipped his mind that you were in lecture with him, and you hadn’t done or said anything to make him remember. He looked across the street though and relief soared through him when he spotted you seated on a bench waiting for him.

Juyeon followed his gaze curiously, but thought better than to question the soft-cornered smile on his friend’s face. “Hey, uhm, did you feel up to having lunch with me and the others today? I’ve gotta go to my social justice lecture right now, but we’re hitting the new ramen place in the district at like, one, I think.”

Changmin snapped back to reality. “Oh, uh…” His eyes drifted back to you, but you were looking elsewhere at a couple who were passing by walking their pups. His foot tapped against the ground as he seesawed between options. Did he feel up to it?

“You don’t have to if you want to go home,” Juyeon assured him with a sympathetic smile. “You should go home and rest.”

Changmin licked his lips. A part of him realized that he was glad Juyeon had been the one to say it. “Sorry, I just…”

“Hey, today was a lot. Don’t sweat it, okay?” Juyeon then gently patted Changmin’s arm with his hand as he turned to head down the road toward his next class. “See you later?”

“Yeah, see you, Ju.”

Something poked at the back of Changmin’s mind as he ducked his head slightly and bounded across the street to where you were seated. He lifted his hand in a subtle wave to you, then nodded toward the road back to his apartment to make a more natural course of action for any onlookers. You fell into step beside him as easily as breathing air.

“How come you didn’t want to go have lunch with the guys?” You piped up.

“Huh? Oh.” Changmin kicked a pebble on the road with the side of his shoe and watched it bounce into the grass next to the sidewalk. “I wanted to spend time with you—Wait, you heard that conversation?”

You tapped the side of your head as if that was enough of an explanation to his question, then moved on. “But you get to spend time with me whenever you’re at the apartment. How long has it been since you last hung out with them?”

“Two days ago, actually. The night before you showed up, we had dinner.”

“Did you enjoy it?” You asked.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, stopping at the traffic intersection to wait for the walking sign to turn on. “I mean, yeah. Yes, I did. I just—afterwards—it was…” He could hear his own sobbing echo in his head, and as if he had projected those memories into your head or as if you could read his mind, your expression grew somber. Changmin’s voice quieted, for fear that adding volume would push out the emotions all over again. “It was really hard, Yn. All I did was cry when I got back.”

You moved closer to him and offered your hand to him. The crosswalk symbol lit up white, and Changmin took your hand as the two of you made your way across the street. “I’m sorry,” was all you could manage to say.

“‘s not your fault,” he replied. He couldn't possibly blame you for your own accidental death. You hadn’t forced that guy to get drunk and drive down that specific road. You had no choice in your death, and for some reason, that made Changmin’s chest hurt just a little more. “I liked having dinner with them and I think I genuinely laughed and smiled for the first time in a while, too, but I just…”

He grappled for the words, unable to admit the truth aloud.

“Kyu-ah,” you said to him, hand-holding shifting to you holding onto his upper arm so the two of you walked closer in a half-embrace. “You can be happy. You’re allowed to feel these things, and you’re allowed to smile and laugh.”

He shook his head, his head tilting back as his eyes closed. The prickling sensation had come back and goddamn it, he didn’t want to cry again. He had to make it back to the apartment at least. “Not without you.”

You frowned, but kept quiet until the two of you reached Changmin’s apartment. He dumped his shoes at the door, backpack thumping to the floor, body crashing onto the couch. You settled down onto the cushion next to him, and he nestled his head onto your shoulder.

“Kyu, can you do something for me?”

He hummed, arms encircling your arm like you had done to him on the walk back. “Anything.”

“Will you go to lunch with Juyeon, Kevin, and Chanhee? Will you at least try for me?”

Changmin stared at your portrait, the one across from his eyes on that little table by the TV. Yours and his smiles were a reflection of each other, framed in eternity behind that clear plastic. He gulped. “Okay. I will.”

DAY THREE

LUNCH yesterday went perfectly well, mainly because you stood behind Changmin’s chair the entire time with your hand on his shoulder to assure him that you were still present and “hanging out” with all of them, too. You appreciated the thought, but you appreciated seeing and hearing him happy. Even if it was at poor Chanhee’s expense (he really had dug himself into a hole when he confessed his crush on one of his peers at the university’s magazine association). It was nice to see everyone, too, of course, even if they weren’t aware that you were watching over them with a fond gaze. As a ghost, you could still feel emotions—that was why you were so human to Changmin, but there was still a sense of ease about you.

When Changmin had finished with his classes for today, you and he lingered in the kitchen while he heated up a pot of ramen on the stove. You hopped onto the counter, arm resting comfortably around his shoulders.

“I’ve connected the dots,” he said suddenly.

“You’ve connected shit.”

He scoffed with a feigned look of offense directed up at you as he pressed his hand to his chest. “Okay, rude! Death has given you so much audacity.”

Your lips curled up into a little smirk. “It’s just an instinct when it comes to you.”

Changmin rolled his eyes. “Whatever. As I was saying, I think I know why you were kicked from the underworld.”

“You say that like the underworld’s an online forum,” you huffed, chuckling. When the pot reached a low boiling point, you tapped him on the shoulder to spur him into action, and he reacted like second nature, even if he had seen that it was ready anyway.

“Hey, I mean, if I had an online forum, I’d kick you out, too.” He giggled as you gently kicked the side of his butt with your foot. “Remember when we were eleven and we thought Omegle was the greatest thing of our naive lives?”

You hummed in content remembrance. “Mhm. Man, we were stupid. But that was a lot of fun.”

He grinned at you over his shoulder. “Wasn’t it?” When he turned back to the pot, he realized how hard his smile pulled at his cheeks. This wouldn’t be forever. Today was day three, and he was already growing used to your presence again—for a split second, panic seized his heart and the smile slipped into the simmering ring of bubbles in the ramen pot.

Changmin cleared his throat. “So what I was saying earlier.”

You blinked at his sudden change of tone. “What about it?”

“Maybe you were sent back here on a mission or a task. You probably have to right some kind of wrong—or, or—or figure out your death?” He whipped out a bowl from a cabinet. “So what did you do wrong, Yn-ie?”

You smiled, amused. “How long do we have?”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “You’re so silly. You were the goodiest-two-shoes of all goodie-two-shoes.”

You scoffed. “Not true.”

“Oh, yes, true,” he quipped with a smug grin. He leaned back against the counter to face you with a full bowl of noodles in his palm. “The guilt after you snuck out with me ate you up alive—”

“Because I broke my parents’ trust!” You sputtered out in protest. You thrusted an accusing finger in his face that only sent him into further fits of laughter. “You’re so lucky I didn’t spill to your parents, Ji Changmin! You should be on your knees because I begged my mom and dad not to tell your parents!”

Changmin had to hold his chopsticks in front of his mouth to keep the food from flying from his mouth. You were fired up, yet all he could see was how the kitchen lights framed your face like a halo. Once the food had been swallowed, he replied, “I feel like I just have to ask: you weren’t a serial killer, were you? Since we’re on the topic of all your wrongdoings.”

Your eyes widened, and in that moment, he knew he was screwed. “Ji. Changmin.”

He giggled. “Don’t hurt me?”

You huffed, nose twitching and wrinkling. “You are so lucky I’m a good ghost.”

The reminder sobered him up a little. “Yeah…” He said quietly.

Silence descended between the two of you as you refrained from saying anything else, so Changmin could finish eating. You hopped off of the counter and went to go find Gana, who was sleeping in Changmin’s bed again. Changmin was left to his noodles and thoughts, his stare blank and spaced out with his mind far off. If you truly had been sent back in order to right a wrong, or even figure out something about your death, then where would he start? Where would you be expected to start if you didn’t have him to help you?

When you were still alive, he was aware of a few nasty people in your lives who weren’t exactly fond of the relationship you two shared, but as far as Changmin knew, their feelings weren’t malicious to the point of death.

Changmin swallowed a bite he was chewing on, mouth slowing as if his train of thought had just eased into the station. All mysteries began from the end, didn’t they? All detectives had to start their investigation from the scene of the crime, whatever that may be when put into context. His hands began to tremble as a thought occurred to him. Clutching the bottom of the bowl and his chopsticks harder to stop the shaking, Changmin forced himself to admit what he didn’t want to.

You emerged from his bedroom cradling Gana in your arms, and when your eyes fell upon Changmin’s grave expression, you couldn’t help but coax an answer from him.

He couldn’t meet your eyes. “I think… we have to go to the site of the accident.”

———

On the night of the Accident, you had been walking home with crisp night air nipping at your nose, your cheeks, your resolve. It hadn’t necessarily been the worst of nights at your shift, but it hadn’t been on the better side of them either. Earlier that day, Changmin had nearly collapsed from exhaustion on the way home, so you insisted on walking home alone. It wasn’t like he could refuse when he pretty much knocked out as soon as his head hit his pillow; plus, your pepper spray made for decent company. You hadn’t anticipated the driver, the screaming tire wheels, the blinding lights. After all, how could you have?

The corner of two streets on the opposite side of campus from where Changmin lived was pindrop quiet. There was one large, framed portrait of you seated against the fence, surrounded by a litter of flowers, tealights, plush toys, and other offerings to the dead. One of your friends from an art class you’d taken in freshman year had made you a sign and nailed it above your picture: In fond and loving memory of Yn Ln—beautiful, beloved, and a heart of gold. May she rest in peace.

Changmin couldn’t move.

He’d been staring at it all for about ten minutes now, shaky hands hidden in the pockets of his hoodie. The last time he’d been here was four weeks ago, in the ungodly hours of the morning, as he chased after your body in a bag, tears flying from his eyes like gushing streams. The red and blue sirens flashed in his eyes and pulsed like heartbeats; his own heartbeat deafened out everything else and thundered in his ears.

Just like now. He… he couldn’t think—couldn’t process anything. He couldn’t turn himself to the street where your broken, lifeless body had laid.

Your smiling portrait glowed in the dim, flickering lights of the tea candles, similar to the very set up he had at home.

For the longest time, he was never able to bring himself to come here. He couldn’t have, of course, he couldn’t have. He didn’t have the stomach to.

Oh my god, he was going to throw up—

“Changmin, hey—hey, buddy. You’re gonna be okay.”

You appeared at his side, hands grabbing out to hold onto his lurching body. He stumbled into you, grappling at your hands, arms, shoulders—anything to anchor him to something. He couldn’t breathe—

“Changmin, look at me! Look at me.”

Your hands forced his head up and his eyes gleamed silver in the gold tea light glow. You had never seen him so afraid. “Inhale, exhale for me. Inhale… exhale… come on; one more time, hon: inhale… exhale… good. Good. That’s really good, Kyu, that’s it.”

Changmin’s entire body trembled as he gripped your hands until, even as a ghost, you could feel his strength. His chest rose and fell at a slower pace now, and the blanched, blankness had melted away into a contorted expression of rage, sadness, panic, and every other emotion in between. Tears cascaded down the slopes of his cheeks in a free fall. “I should have been there, Yn,” were his first words to you, choked out between gritted teeth.

You realized that his anger was not directed toward anyone else but himself at this moment. You held him, mirrored his strength, so he knew he was holding something solid. You murmured firmly, but not unkindly, “Changmin, you couldn’t have changed what hap—”

“Yes, I could have.” He wailed now, his heart-wrenching loathing toward himself echoing against the surrounding buildings, “If I had just been there to walk you home…” You would still be alive, was what he didn’t have the strength to say aloud. To give the world such power over him… as if it didn’t already have him by his neck.

He crumpled to the concrete, his knees buckling from under him, and you could do nothing but fall to the ground with him. You cradled him to your chest as he bawled his entire body out, his conscience no doubt throwing rocks at himself. Your mouth parted, eyes squinting as if you were about to cry, too. And you felt the sensation at the corners of your eyes, and yet, no tears fell from your tear glands. They would not come, no matter how much you wished them to.

Changmin’s arms wrapped around your waist as he tucked himself into you. If he could just—if he could just hold on—if he could just make this right—

Your hand smoothed over the back of his head. “Changmin, it was not your fault. None of it was your fault, so please—please don’t spend your life blaming yourself for something you could not control.”

He pawed at his face, swiped at his eyes, his nose. He sucked in a desperate breath of air, gasping and choking out the words, “I can’t—can’t believe that—that I—I’ll never see you again. The—the world lost you—I lost you too soon.” He gasped for air again: “It’s not fair.”

None of it was fair. Changmin didn’t deserve to feel any of this and you didn’t deserve to die so young. But here the two of you were, a heap of emotions and injustice. Of longing and grief. What might have blossomed to something else in the future had been cut short by the cruel hand of fate. Why had the world set this in motion? What had either of you done to deserve such hurt?

You cleared your congested throat from unshed tears. “I know it’s not fair, but I’m never truly lost.”

Changmin pulled away from you then, still actively trying to tame the emotion rolling down his face. He glared at you then through blurry eyes. Such pain in his contorted features; you hated seeing him so hurt and being so useless to help him. “Cut the sentimental, cliche crap,” he practically snarled. “Please, you know me better than that. I never get why people say shit like that because that’s not how it goes, that’s not how it feels. It’s not the fucking same.”

Your mouth went dry. He was right, and how could you counter that? You weren’t the one who had to live without him now. “You’re right; I’m sorry.”

He was breathing loudly now, more labored. His rage dulled to something of a soft simmer as it dawned on him what he just said. “Wait—I’m sorry. You… you shouldn’t be the one apologizing, Yn. You didn’t deserve that from me.”

“I think I did deserve it,” you shrugged simply, sadly. Just because you were dead didn’t mean you couldn’t be sorry. “And I think you deserved to air that out.”

He sniffed and pulled his knees to his chest. He huffed out an exhale. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a lot.”

You nodded, expression solemn. “And I’m sorry that you’re hurting so badly. I wish I could make everything better.” What was the point of you being here if you were just hurting Changmin more?

Changmin let out another sharp exhale. Slowly, he extended his hand across the gap between you. His fingers still trembled, but he no longer tried to subdue it. “Can I just hold your hand again?” His volume was set almost inaudibly, “Just to assure myself I haven’t been dreaming?”

Everything, you wished you could give him everything. Without hesitation, you bridged the gap and grappled onto his fingers, felt the heat of his palm, and reminded him that you were here.

DAY FOUR

YOU almost couldn’t convince Changmin to go to classes the next day. Almost.

You’d sent him off even as he drooped with his two shots of espresso and puffy eyelids, but he seemed content enough to let you hold his hand all throughout the day. Maybe even tap his shoulder a couple of times to remind him that you were there and that he needed to pay attention. Well, you’d only accomplished such feats because you agreed to his compromise.

“Changmin, you can’t get in without a lab pass.”

Said compromise was chasing after something you were certain didn’t truly exist, but Changmin was set on the idea that you were sent back to the land of the living to “right a wrong”, and he was on a mission to help you accomplish just that.

Changmin stood outside the laboratory building you used to work at with a cinematically narrow-eyed, hands-on-hips pose. He stared up at the looming building, nestled between the massive, glass-faced population health building and the vine-riddled biology buildings as if he could climb up all their stairways without breaking a sweat. “I know, but I’m sure we’ll bump into someone who we can just leech off of to get inside.”

In other words, he would make you both wait until someone came by to open the door and you would then follow them inside. At first listen, it wasn’t an impossible task, especially since this area was relatively populated during business hours. Only, it seemed that the street seemed comically barren. Wherever all your former peers were, you had zero clue.

You pursed your lips and took a seat down on the curb. “Do you even have a plan?”

Changmin poked his tongue in the side of his cheek. “Ha, do I have a plan?”

“Sooo you don’t have a plan; got it—”

“Sh,” he said, turning around to peer inside the glass door of the laboratory building, “someone’s coming!”

You twisted around, silently questioning who?, but as soon as you saw who was making their way toward the entrance of the building, you immediately bobbed your head. This made sense.

Because making his way toward the door from the inside was Lee Sangyeon, your workaholic, grad student supervisor. As usual, he wore a dress shirt appropriate for an office space, hair swept back neatly. In his hands was his phone, while a dark leather satchel bag hung from his shoulder. He glanced up from his phone as he pushed the door open, then started when he realized Changmin was just… there.

“Oh. Sorry, didn’t see you there,” Sangyeon said with a polite smile.

“Uh—wait,” Changmin stammered, effectively halting Sangyeon’s movements. “You’re Lee Sangyeon, right?”

Your eyes widened. “You know Sangyeon?”

Changmin flicked his hand by his leg subtly to gesture at you to wait.

Sangyeon angled his body toward Changmin now, the tilt of his eyebrows curious. “Yeah, that’s me. Can I help you with something?”

Changmin fidgeted with his fingers and rocked on his heels. “Uhm, you were a friend of Yn Ln’s, right? I’m Ji Changmin, she was my best friend.”

At the sound of your name, recognition and something melancholy smoothed over Sangyeon’s features. “Ah, nice to finally meet you, Changmin. Yn-ie used to talk about you all the time.”

“She did?”

“No, I didn’t!” You buried your face into your hands as embarrassment curled in your stomach. “Sangyeon has become a chronic liar, I see!”

Another flicking of Changmin’s fingers. Hush, you! “I actually wanted to talk to you,” Changmin said slowly, “about her. I… I’m trying to uh, piece together some parts of her life, y’know. And I know I wasn’t really able to get to know this aspect of her life much when she was alive, and I thought, better late than never.”

You settled your chin onto your knees. Even if you knew Changmin had an ulterior motive in mind, you couldn’t help but hear the truth laced in his words. Even if he was chasing after this “wrong that needed righting”, there was that twinge of desperation locked in his voice that you couldn’t shake.

“Ah.” Sangyeon nodded. “Well, I’d be happy to talk to you about her. Do you wanna come with me down the road? There’s a pretty neat little coffee place we could sit in.”

You knew this coffee place, you thought to yourself as you followed Sangyeon and Changmin down the road to said coffee shop. It was the place you ran to during dinner breaks and last minute caffeine pick-me-ups. Their banana bread was fantastic, and your mouth watered as you could practically taste it while walking in.

Once the boys were settled at a table, a cup of coffee each, you leaned against the window behind Changmin’s chair, arms crossed and eyes pinned to the steam rising from Sangyeon’s cup.

“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” Sangyeon said quietly, sincerely. “I mean, she was important to me, but she must have been so much more to you.”

Changmin gestured vaguely, half-heartedly. His chuckle was the same way. “You don’t have to do that; she’s—was—she was important to both of us.” He nursed his coffee cup between his palms. “Sorry, it’s taken me a while to get the courage to talk about her to anyone but my dog.”

Sangyeon’s eyes shone with that characteristic warmth and patience that made you long for the life you didn’t have anymore. “I… I get that. It’s really tough dealing with the death of a loved one, especially when people expect you to move on with your life.”

Changmin’s head bobbed up and down earnestly. “It really is. It’s so, god, it’s so hard to move on.” He drummed his fingers along the sides of his coffee cup. “Uhm, but I guess I wanted to start with how you knew her—as in, like who did you know her as?”

“Who did I know her as?” Sangyeon sighed, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he grappled for the adequate way to string those thoughts into words. “Well, she was brilliant. She was more than brilliant; she was passionate about what she did. You could see the bags under her eyes and sometimes I knew she took naps in the break room, but…” He blew out a puff of air, his cheek pressed against his fist and coffee forgotten. He lifted his right shoulder in some semblance of a shrug. “I admired her a lot. I didn’t get to work a lot of shifts with her that… that week, but she left these little post-it notes on the break room door with smiley-faces and encouraging messages for everyone to find the next day.”

This time, when you settled your hand on Changmin’s shoulder, it wasn’t for Changmin. Changmin reached up to put his hand over yours, but to anyone else it would look like he was simply holding his shoulder and tucking his chin into his elbow. “Sounds like Yn-ie,” he chimed in softly.

Sangyeon smiled, a breathy laugh following suit. “She was—she shined so bright, Changmin-ah. But I’m guessing you already knew that, huh? She talked about you a lot. She would hear something or do something that reminded her of you, and then she would mention you with that little twinkle in her eyes. The one where she gets all—y’know.”

Changmin inclined his head and felt himself smile. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

A nod. “Yeah. I was kind of surprised that you didn’t introduce yourself as her former partner. I mean, the way she looked when she talked about you…” He shook his head and reached for his coffee cup. “God, sorry. This is probably making you really uncomfortable.”

You lost your breath. Or whatever you had left of it.

Changmin’s thumb brushed over the back of your knuckles. You didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what he was thinking. You knew you talked about Changmin a lot, but you figured that everyone would assume it was normal because he was your closest friend. Perhaps you had been a little more obvious than you had intended.

“It’s all right,” Changmin replied. You wished you could see his face. “I think a lot of people saw us that way.”

———

Sangyeon’s cup clattered hollowly as it tumbled into the recycling bin on his and Changmin’s way out of the coffee shop. The sky had broiled to a molten gold while the sun began its descent into the folds of the horizon.

Changmin stepped out into the cool afternoon feeling like a weight had been lifted from his chest. There was something refreshing about hearing about you from someone else, as fondly as he saw you. He and Sangyeon had even shared a couple favorite moments of yours; Changmin kept his favorite of all favorites to himself though, of course. Some memories, he wanted to be selfish with. Tears had been shed, too, but a minimal amount. Changmin wasn’t one to cry to strangers, but Sangyeon wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore, was he?

Sangyeon lingered on the sidewalk. “It was really nice talking to you, Changmin-ah. I really needed that, I think.”

Changmin nodded his head. “Me too. Thanks for not being weird about it.”

“Bare minimum, man,” Sangyeon chuckled. He took his phone out of his pocket and offered the new contact space to Changmin. “Hey, maybe we can trade numbers? Any friend of Yn-ie’s is a friend of mine. If you need anything, Changmin, and I truly mean it, don’t hesitate to call or text.”

Changmin accepted the phone from him with his eyes wide like a doe’s. He hoped Sangyeon could see all the gratitude in his silver-lined eyes. “Thank you,” he said in earnest. “I—same to you.” He swiftly put his contact information into Sangyeon’s phone before returning the device to its owner.

Sangyeon mustered up a kind smile, clasping a warm, reassuring hand on Changmin’s shoulder. “Stay strong. You’ll get through this; I know you can.”

Oh god, there was that prickling sensation again. Changmin could only manage a nod without breaking down right then and there in the middle of the walkway. Sangyeon seemed to understand, and took his leave.

Changmin stood there watching his back go farther and farther away.

For a moment, he let himself stand there in silence, soaking in everything that had just passed between him and Lee Sangyeon. He sniffled, knuckles pressing against his nose. “He’s a really cool guy,” he finally said with his words directed toward you.

You were leaning up against the outer facade of the coffee shop, uncertain as to what your role was supposed to be. You felt like you were intruding, like you really were just a ghost now. That you were just a spectator. There was definitely something beautiful about watching two important people in your past life starting a bond, but then… then there was something bittersweet about it, too. “He is,” you agreed.

Changmin hung his head, then raised it up with a tired, dimpled smile. “Let’s go home.”

DAY FIVE

TODAY, Chanhee was the one who got Changmin out of the apartment.

“—I even got Gana a play date—”

Changmin’s neck stuck out from his bathroom, toothbrush hanging from between his teeth. “Huh?!”

Even you spared a laugh from where you were sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter. It was a comical sight for Changmin, seeing that you were making weird, funny faces at the back of Chanhee’s head from where he sat on the couch with Ghana curled up in his lap.

Chanhee nodded enthusiastically. “Yup. Him and my friend Younghoon’s dog Bori. He’s taking them to a dog park nearby.”

Changmin’s eyes narrowed. “So you set up Gana on a blind date?”

“You’re so overprotective, Changmin-ah. Yes, it’s a blind date.” Chanhee waved his hand at Changmin. “Now hurry up! Juyeon and Kevin are already at the performing arts building trying to score a studio!”

Changmin huffed, but stalked back into the bathroom. “Fine.”

While Changmin was finishing up getting himself ready, Chanhee gently removed Ghana from his lap so he could trudge over to the little table beside the TV. You watched him quietly as he knelt in front of it, poked your T-rex plushie, then gave your portrait a small wave.

You craned your head, attempting to see what he was doing. He had picked up one of the tea lights that went dim, most likely from overuse and a dead battery. Chanhee set it back down on the table though.

“Hi, Yn-ie,” you heard him greet your photo. “I see Changmin has dedicated a corner to you, as he should.” Chanhee was silent for a moment, and you thought that maybe he was only voicing his thoughts in his head now. Then he continued, “I miss you. We all miss you. Sometimes I dream about memories of you and it feels like déjà vu. We’ve been trying to help Changmin through this, but it’s been a little difficult getting through to him.”

Your chest tugged as Chanhee slumped his chin onto the ledge of the table. “I just wanna help him. I can see he’s hurting, but I’ve never been good at this stuff. Maybe you can send me a sign that I’m doing okay.”

The light to the bathroom clicked, and Chanhee murmured something else to your picture, blew you a kiss, then turned his head to watch Changmin sweep past him and into the bedroom.

“Let me grab my jacket and we can go!”

“Okay, you slowpoke,” Chanhee quipped, collapsing back onto the couch.

You hopped off from the kitchen counter and walked over toward the couch next to Chanhee. You called out to Gana, immediately garnering a response from the pup. Swiftly, you moved out of the way, hand gesturing to Chanhee on the couch.

As if Gana could read your mind, he leapt into Chanhee’s lap and licked a wet stripe up the man’s cheek.

Chanhee squealed in surprise, a laugh falling from his grinning smile. “Yah! You’re so full of energy this morning, hm? Well, save some for Bori later, okay?”

You smiled, watching the interaction and hoping that that might suffice as a sign.

Changmin hustled out of his room, and you came to the startling realization that he looked so… Changmin today. There was a glow about his cheeks now, the divots of his smile enunciated at the thought of dancing again. He wore something fashionable, as he had always once done, with his black athletic duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He met your gaze as he walked out and you shared a smile for a moment.

“I know I’m pretty, Changmin, but we’re going to be late,” Chanhee teased.

Both you and Changmin laughed, and the two of you followed Chanhee and Gana out to the car.

Gana had propped himself onto the center console of Chanhee’s silver Corolla, while Chanhee and Changmin took up the front two rows, and you sat in the backseat. You leaned your head against the back of Changmin’s seat and gazed out the window at the world passing you by, your hand reaching forward to hold onto Changmin’s.

Chanhee stopped at a nearby park, and after Changmin insisted he was going to stay in the car, Chanhee took Gana out to meet with this Younghoon character and his dog.

The car filled with silence for a beat as the two of you watched Chanhee walk up to a tall, lanky man with a pretty face and pretty pup.

“You haven’t danced since I died, have you?” You released the question into the world and confronted him with it.

Changmin swallowed, his fingers pressing into yours. “No.” In retrospect, maybe if he had continued to dance, he wouldn’t have been holed up at home. A flame in him had died the night you had, but the remaining embers were slowly catching fire again. They hadn’t been wholly swept out or quieted.

Chanhee skipped back over to the car with a boyish smile on his face and he crashed into his front seat with a laugh. “Okay, let’s go!”

The car was turned on, the radio resumed play.

———

Like any other day, especially Fridays, the performing arts building was abuzz with life. People, both solo and squadrons, came to and fro about the large, branching corridors. A smile crawled onto Changmin’s lips as he recalled the familiar route to the practice dance studios in the back half of the building. There was a bounce in his step now, hands gripping the strap of his duffle bag.

Chanhee nudged Changmin with the back of his hand, coughing not-so-quietly under his breath. “Incoming.”

Changmin perked up at the familiar warning. He hadn’t heard it in a little over a month, but the feeling of cold shivers down his arms was no stranger. And the group of girls making their way down the corridor toward them, having just finished with dance practice, were unfortunately no strangers either. Changmin’s mouth pressed into a firm line as he reached out beside him for your hand—fumbled around in the air as if you weren’t there for a second, then latched onto you.

“Changmin-ah!” One of them lit up at the sight of him, and the rest were set off like succeeding lines of firecrackers.

“Well, this should be good,” you mused next to him.

He snuck a glance at you from his periphery, spotted the carefully crafted mask on your face. Even in death, you were trying to put up a brave front.

He turned back to the front, and the group of girls had come closer. “Oh, uh, hi.”

“We haven’t seen you in so long! How have you been?”

“We missed you at the dance rehearsal last week, but we can definitely reschedule.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing a private—”

Changmin blinked. Did they not see how absolutely done he looked? Chanhee looked just about the same way, but he knew the drill; there wasn’t really anything either of them could do until they’d said whatever they said.

“—so sorry about her. It must have been so difficult for you to get through, Changmin-ah! But see, you must be all better now!”

He nearly doubled over in laughter. “You’re shitting me,” he said without stopping himself.

The girl who had been rambling on about your death and how it must have affected him, halted in her tracks. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Tongue in cheek, he shook his head. “No, whatever. Keep going. I wanna hear what you have to say.” The muscle in his jaw feathered and his grip on your hand tightened.

To the others’ credit, they tried subtly getting their friend to not take the bait, but she just couldn’t help herself. “Well, it’s no disrespect or anything, of course. But she was completely holding you back, y'know? She didn’t even know what to look for when she watched your practices and she just sat there like a duck, so I don’t know why you even asked her to come with you so often. I mean, you guys were friends—I get that—but we’re friends, too. I would’ve definitely been able to help you so much better.”

Well. That spelled it all out for Changmin in capital letters.

Chanhee arched an eyebrow high. “Wow, you’re a worse human being than I gave you credit for.”

“It’s funny how whenever people say they mean ‘no disrespect’, whatever they say is extremely disrespectful,” Changmin huffed. His eyes narrowed into daggers now, hands fisted. “You not only spat on my best friend, but also on me and my ability to choose friends. By the way, we are not friends, especially not when you shit on mine right in front of me. Dead or not.”

When a rush of silence fell over the corridor, Changmin muttered, “Thought so,” then nudged Chanhee. “Come on, Chanhee. Let’s go.”

When the two boys brushed past the girls, Changmin finally breathed out.

When he no longer felt your hand, his head whipped around the corridor, searching for you—

“Changmin, the room’s this way.”

He coughed. “Oh, uh, right.” His eyes swiveled about the corridor once more, frowning when he caught you slipping into the practice room right behind Chanhee.

The practice room was dimly lit with the far wall lined with mirrors and a barre, floors made of a smooth hardwood. Kevin and Juyeon were by the large speaker in the corner trying to hook up one of their laptops to the sound system. They glanced up and saw both Changmin and Chanhee coming into the room, then lifted their hands in cheerful waves.

“Hey! Glad you guys are finally here,” Kevin exclaimed.

Chanhee snorted, dumping his bag in his usual corner. “We just had a showdown in the hallway.”

Kevin’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh?”

“They were disrespecting Yn,” Changmin shrugged stiffly. He walked over to his own corner, where you were already seated against the wall, and dropped his bag down next to you. He held your eye contact as he said, “They deserved it.”

Juyeon whistled lowly. “I’m sure they did. Wow, the fucking audacity. Do they just lack human decency?”

Kevin pursed his lips. “Apparently.”

“Fucking incredible.”

Chanhee shrugged his jacket off, eyeing the dark look still present in the shadows cast over Changmin’s face. Or maybe it was just the lighting. “Okay, let’s get started, shall we? Changmin, warm us up.”

———

Practice progressed smoothly.

You always liked Changmin’s corner of the room—definitely not because his duffle bag was here (because lord did that thing smell some days), but because it had the best view. (Of Changmin.) From here, even on the floor, you could observe his sharp, calculated movements, the graceful way in which he knew how to use his body and draw art in the air.

It seemed that the harder the choreography was, the more sweat he perspired, the harder he breathed, and the bigger he smiled. It was hard work like this that made his heart full, and thus, made you happy.

Occasionally, he would pass looks over to your corner, always looking for you and your reactions (maybe even your approval). He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do when this was all over, but… he wasn’t going to think about that quite yet. He didn’t want to give that thought time to sink in.

The music blasted throughout the room louder than your own thoughts when Chanhee threw his head back and declared a break.

Everyone retreated to their separate corners, and Changmin, sweat dripping down his bangs and the side of his face like he’d just showered, came over to you. He leaned down and swept his water bottle out from his bag and guzzled the water down as fast as his throat could accept it.

“Tired?” You asked him quietly as he wiped his mouth with the collar of his shirt.

He broke into a smile. “Yeah.”

Changmin dropped his bottle onto his bag, exchanging it instead for his phone. “Are you okay? From earlier, I mean.”

“Oh. Those girls? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

His mouth curled into a frown. “What they said—”

“—Can only hurt the living,” you said, brushing it off.

“Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t still hurt.” Changmin lowered himself beside you now, only stealing glances at you so he didn’t look weird to everyone else. “They didn’t say anything to you when you were alive, did they?”

Your blank face didn’t make him feel any better. “Maybe something here or there, but nothing as direct as what was said earlier. It’s okay though. The past is in the past.”

Changmin swallowed. “How could you say that?”

You held his eyes, and for a moment that was all you could do. Instead of pushing against him and trying to defend your insensitivity, you said, “I’m sorry, Kyu. And thank you for what you did back there. But I guess even when I’m dead I don’t like talking about it.”

His eyes gleamed. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

“Just don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t have stopped.”

His throat bobbed. “It’s not that easy, Yn-ie. You know that.”

“I do know, but just try, for my sake.”

DAY SIX

CHANGMIN didn’t sleep. Technically, he slept for half an hour, but those thirty minutes of sleep had been enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night.

The dream he had awoken from was still fresh in his mind. Thirty fast seconds of gauzy, luminescent adolescence. It was the rusty squeaking of the playground swings, the afternoon golden hour sun hanging like a medal in the sky at the end of the day. It was yours and his youthful gazes, cheeks full of love and smiles and that god forsaken discussion about death.

“What comes after this?” A line like this could only come from a child who had yet to experience the beauty of the world or a child exhausted by its horrors.

A shrug from him. “I dunno. Maybe we become ghosts!” He delivered this line with such vigor and delight that you couldn’t help but beam at his antics.

“Like the ones from Ghostbusters?” You asked him.

He bobbed his head, kicked his legs out to gain some momentum on his swing. He fell back whilst gripping the twin chains, tongue lolling out and making you laugh. He loved making you laugh, even as a kid. “Exactly like that. I want to spit out green ectoplasm just like that. Blehhh!”

The two of you mocked the ghosts from the universally known blockbuster. You didn’t exactly like scary movies, but the way Changmin stared up at the screen with awe and dimples big, you couldn’t help but like them, too.

After a minute, Changmin wrapped his elbows around the chains and let himself drift there, his eyes turned to you. “What about you? What do you think happens to us when we die?”

You looked up at the afternoon sky in thought. “Shei from art class told me this story that her mama tells her as a bedtime story. At the end, the girl and boy become butterflies so they can fly together in death because they couldn’t be together in life.”

Changmin blinked, the thoughts bouncing about in his head coming to a slow halt. His lips parted. “Oh.”

“It’s not as cool as ghosts, but I think about my grandpa whenever I see a butterfly now.”

Well, how could he possibly argue against it? He smiled then, reaching across the gap between you two to bump your shoulder. “I think butterflies are cool, too! We should say hi to every butterfly we see then.”

Changmin’s eyes fluttered open like the wings of a butterfly then, twelve years later from that moment in time. The room was dark, the sky outside his window burned to rust and void of stars. He let out a shuddering breath from his lips, shaky from exhaustion and shivers from the memory he had just revisited. How had it been so vivid?

He rolled around in bed to his other side and his eyes screwed shut in an attempt to return back to the land of dreams—maybe even to that very day twelve years ago. When death had only been a conversation, and not a reality.

Sleep would not come. Today was Saturday, day six.

You said you had seven days before leaving him forevermore.

Changmin rolled back over and grabbed his phone off the nightstand and squinted as the light from the screen blinded him. It was three in the morning; that definitely checked out. He opened his notes app, disregarded the title, and began to type out something. Anything to get his body moving as fast as his head.

Things to do with Yn before tomorrow.

His hand came up to rub his lips for a moment, then he yawned wide. His eyes had adjusted to the bright screen by now, and he swiped out of his notes to consult the internet.

Ghosts. What are ghosts? How do you summon ghosts? How can you make a ghost stay?

Changmin’s brows creased as his eyes zipped down article after article—he was pretty sure he must have downloaded about a hundred viruses and bugs onto his phone by this point. Not one article gave him a straight or doable answer. Not anything that he couldn’t do without practice or additional materials. Nothing he could accomplish before midnight tomorrow.

He dropped his phone onto his bed, flopping backward onto his pillow with his hand draped over his forehead. Was it too much for him to want you to stay? All of the things he had thought about doing with you or saying to you when you were alive, shoved under the rug for “another time”… He wished he had known. Goddamn it, he wished he had known.

———

“You’re up early.”

Changmin practically bolted into the bathroom to start up the faucet and brush his teeth. “I’ve been up since three,” he replied, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

You were sitting on the couch again and rubbing Gana’s belly. “Three?”

“Mhm. Couldn’t sleep.” He spat out his lathered toothpaste and speed-ran his skincare routine, hands slapping the moisturizer and sunscreen into his skin.

You chuckled out from the living room. “What’re you doing in there? It sounds like you’re hitting yourself.”

“I’m just trying to be fast,” he said. When he was done, he took the slightest bit of hair product between his hands and ran it through his dark locks to give it life and volume. When he was decently satisfied with it, he breezed back into the living room and flicked his fingers upward at you. “Come on! Chop chop, Yn-ie! Things to do, places to see!”

You cocked your head to the side, a slightly weirded out smile pressed onto your face. “Huh? How are you so awake right now?”

He was in his bedroom when you asked this and thus, out of your direct sight. He shuddered, the energy slipping off the lines of his face for a split second as he threw things into a bag haphazardly. “I’m just—it’s just one of those days where I’m better off on a power nap, y’know?”

“Okay…?”

Changmin slung his bag over his shoulder and strode over to you to yank you up to your feet. He grinned wide at you. “Well? Ready for the day I have planned?” He stuffed his shaky hands into his pockets.

Your eyes narrowed at him, but you eventually sighed—accepted it. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

———

Changmin pulled his phone’s notes app up and clicked the checkbox next to “go down to the boardwalk for rolled ice cream”. It was accompanied by about seven items prior to it, also crossed out in twin strike-throughs. It was about six o’clock in the evening now, the sun having well set into the horizon to yours and Changmin’s left. The ocean breeze wafted through his hair, and though the view of the boardwalk below was glittering and beautiful, all he could think about was the next thing on his list.

It wasn’t that you didn’t need to eat, but that you couldn’t… really eat. The food related items were there so Changmin could experience it with you one last time, but his cup of strawberry cheesecake rolled ice cream sat untouched and fast-melting in his lap.

Changmin felt the familiar twin taps on his shoulder and jolted. His head whipped up to meet your eyes. He gulped at the look on your face. “What?”

“Your ice cream is soup.”

He glanced down at his lap and saw the thick chunks of pale pink swimming in an ocean. “Oh.”

You rested the side of your head against your fist, then propped your elbow up on the back of the bench the two of you sat on. “What’s going on, Kyu? What’s your rush today? You have a whole list written out, and we’ve been practically everywhere around the city today. I think I saw you ignore the giraffe statue in the toy store earlier—which, frankly, is not very Kyu of you.”

The last thing you expected him to do was to stare at you until he started crying. You saw the way his face scrunched up, first, then the silver pooling in his eyes. His cheeks had puffed just slightly until he combusted, fat tears rolling down his face and dripping into his ice cream soup.

Your heart sank.

Changmin got up and stalked to the trash can just a little ways away from the bench and tossed the wasted ice cream away. When he came back, you wrapped him up in your embrace, gently cupping the back of his head. “I’m sorry I upset you,” you said quietly.

“I’m sorry for crying again,” he hiccuped. “I just—I’m just so frustrated. And I just don’t know anymore. There’s enough shit to do on that list to get us to tomorrow night—”

The realization dawned upon you. You had a sneaking suspicion throughout the day as he dragged you from place to place, barely taking the time to properly enjoy the attraction, but now that he had finally said it, the truth hit you square in the chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, before they opened toward the shimmering boardwalk below. “Changmin-ah. Kyu. Let’s go home, hm? Do you wanna go home?”

You felt him nod against you, and that was settled.

When the two of you made it back to Changmin’s apartment, he walked in with shoulders hunched and head hanging. The lights stayed off, the quiet remained unbroken. You sat him down on his worn place on the couch, and you resumed that perch on the coffee table that you had taken on that very first day you had manifested in his apartment.

Changmin leaned forward onto his elbows. He was no longer crying, but his eyes were red and puffy, bottom lip wobbly. The worst thing was that he not only looked sad, but also ashamed. He kept his gaze firmly on the hardwood floor, and his voice was gravelly, “I just wasted an entire day, didn’t I?”

You shook your head. “N—”

“I’ve come to the realization that you’re probably not here to right any wrongs,” he pressed on, his head lifting for this moment to plead with his eyes for you to let him continue, to let this all out. “You haven’t done a single horrible thing in your life, Yn, not in my eyes. And… well, your death was an accident, and maybe for a second, I wanted to believe that there was foul play involved so I could distract myself but…” He picked at one of his fingers. “Now I just want to seize the last of these hours I have with you. And I thought I was doing it right today, but it was the exact opposite.”

He reached out for your hand and you gave it to him as he cradled it with both of his.

“I,” you began, “I understand what you were trying to do, Changmin, and I don’t blame you. I would have done the same thing.”

The breath he released was shaky as he stared you in the eyes with his red and silvery ones—stared you right in the eyes as he lifted your knuckles to his lips and held them there.

Something rocked through you then. You wanted to cry; god, you so badly wanted to cry.

“I wish it was me,” he croaked. “I wish it was me. I wish it was me—”

Your hand tightened around his fingers. “No,” you asserted. The strength and firmness of that single word made Changmin’s breath hitch. “No, Changmin. Don’t.” You shook your head vigorously, trying to wrap your head around the mere thought of Changmin taking your place, and everything in your chest seized. “Don’t say that.”

“God, fuck. Yn—” he stammered, pressing the back of your hand to his lips to stop the flood of emotions to break through yet again. Every time he thought he built himself back up, the dam just happened to be more fragile than he believed it to be.

You swallowed. “Changmin, I have to tell you something.”

He shook his head then. “No. God, no, don’t say it.”

“Changmin, I love you. You know that.”

He released your hand and flew back onto the couch, knees pulled to his chest and his face buried in his hands. “Yn, please.”

You clutched your hand to your chest. “I’m being selfish, and I’m sorry for that, but I… never got to say it to you before I left your house that day.” Not enough times. Never enough times.

“Yn, you don’t understand,” he rasped. One hand gripped onto his knee, the other swiping upwards into his hair so you could see the full brunt of his emotions, clear as day on his face. “I love—d you. I loved you so much that it makes my chest hurt. And—and—god, I think I would’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you if we had more time and I came to my fucking senses. Yn, it hurts so bad.”

You lowered yourself to your knees in front of him and coaxed him to unravel himself. He leaned forward, forehead pressed against you as he dry-sobbed until his lungs ached and burned from the inside out.

You couldn’t tell if all of what he just told you was true or in the moment. But what you did know was that the world was so very cruel. It would have been nice to figure this out with him, to see what might have transpired, or enjoyed the journey nonetheless. All of that… you had reached the final destination, and Changmin would go on without you now.

You had one day left.

With that one day… you were still unsure as to how you should seize it, but at this very blink in time, your priority was your best friend. You climbed onto the couch beside him and let him find comfort in your embrace.

You rubbed soothing circles into his back as you gathered your thoughts. “Do you know…” you started lowly and gently, “that I think the world of you? And I don’t say that to make you cry again; I’m saying that so you know, in your heart every day, that you could have never failed me. Like you said, in my eyes, you could do no wrong.”

Changmin sniffled against you. “But what if I do fail you? What if, when you leave for real, I can’t go on?”

“Well, then I’d like you to promise me that you will try your best to keep going. Your best is enough,” you said to him, finger brushing the hair from his forehead. “The Kyu I know is so very strong, and I know that even when the going gets tough, you get going, because you are tougher.”

He held onto your shirt, his chest’s rising and falling beginning to slow and calm down. “I promise.”

“Good. I’m proud of you.” You leaned down and pressed a butterfly kiss to the crown of his head then rubbed his shoulder. “I know this week must have been really difficult for you, but I watched you make steps toward healing. I won’t sugarcoat how hard it might be, but you have people who love you, Changmin. People who love you and care about you and want to be there for you.”

“Thank you,” he rasped. “Thank you for being here. For coming back. It probably wasn’t your choice, but thank you for choosing me in life and in death.”

For a moment, you closed your eyes and (maybe; just maybe) thought you finally felt a tear cascade down your cheek. “I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else, to be honest.”

DAY SEVEN

IT had been awhile since Changmin had invited anyone over to the apartment. Chanhee had pretty much invited himself over yesterday, but this morning, you had suggested to Changmin to host a movie night with the others so he wouldn’t have to be alone when you took off. (For wherever you were off to.) Changmin had recovered slightly from yours and his conversation last night, but there was still a soft spoken air around him.

At about six minutes past eight o’clock that Sunday evening, Changmin let Chanhee, Kevin, and Juyeon into the apartment, with Ghana leaping for joy onto the knees and thighs of these old friends he hadn’t seen in awhile. Before you died, it wasn’t uncommon that Changmin invited the group over to hang out. He thrived on the energy and connection of other people, and when he had shut himself in for an entire month, it was clear that he would not be himself for a while.

Kevin scanned the apartment with a pleasantly surprised nod. “Wow, I’m shocked that you kept it clean.”

“Yah! What kind of guest are you?” Changmin jokingly whacked Kevin with the excess material of his sleeve.

From your perch in the middle of the kitchen counter, you snickered. “If only he knew, Changmin.”

Changmin sent you a look, lips pressed in a smile.

“Man, I missed Gana so much,” Juyeon groaned, leaning down to pucker his lips at the poodle. Gana reacted accordingly, hopping up onto Juyeon’s knees and licking the tip of the man’s nose. “Mwah!”

Changmin rolled his eyes and hopped onto the ledge of the kitchen counter right in front of you. You leaned forward and rested your chin on his shoulder. “Oh please. Gana’s only got eyes for that pretty, white poodle—what’s her name?”

“Bori?” Chanhee’s pink head perked up from the couch. He peered over the ledge with a wide smile as he wielded the TV remote in his hand. “Younghoon says the two lovebirds ought to hang out again soon.”

Juyeon pouted. “Hmph, well I was in line first, so…”

Changmin shook his head with a melodramatic sigh. “Aish… by the way, you weirdos better say hi to Yn over there or I will kick you out right now.” He was only kidding, of course. (Maybe half kidding.) He was tempted to make the joke that you were really behind him and that he wasn’t referring to the shrine by the TV, but he knew they would only give him weird looks and he’d be the butt of the joke.

His three friends immediately jumped to it, raising their hands in cute, excited waves, smiles gleaming under the television light. Kevin scurried over to the table, cooing at the dinosaur plush seated next to your portrait. You couldn’t quite hear the words he murmured to you, but Juyeon was a little louder when he paid your shrine a visit himself.

When they had finished, Juyeon raised the dead tea light in the sky. “Aye! This light’s out, Changmin-ah.”

“That’s what I noticed yesterday, too!” Chanhee chimed in. He shook his head with a playful click of his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. If you’re gonna keep a shrine, you should tend to it.”

“Aish,” Changmin muttered again. (“They’re not wrong,” you added cheekily; “Heeey, shush you.”)

“Changmin, are you not coming to join us at your own movie night?” Kevin teased as he tore off his jacket and settled onto the couch next to Juyeon.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” He felt the weight of your head lift off his shoulder, then could he slide off the counter and join his friends at the couch.

You smiled to yourself as you scooted up the counter to take Changmin’s old place. From here, you had a great view of the movie anyway. They were arguing between a couple different titles, but it seemed that Changmin was insistent on one in particular.

“—Ghostbusters. Have you seen the original? You haven’t? That’s so insulting; we’re watching it now!” Changmin screeched, grabbing hold of Chanhee’s shoulder to shake the poor man into doing his bidding with the remote.

Eventually, the movie started rolling, the ectoplasm spilled, and on your final night as a ghost, you watched yours and Changmin’s childhood staple movie for the very last time. From time to time, you caught Changmin twisting his head over his shoulder to throw smiles back at you, and you knew he was reminiscing the same as you were. Only, as the night grew longer and time flew by, there were less and less looks thrown back at you.

And just like that, a sense of contentment settled over you. Like a set of ellipses, your time was coming to a gradual halt.

At five minutes to midnight, Changmin jolted up in the middle of The Avengers to a twin set of taps on his left shoulder. Chanhee sent him a mildly concerned look, since his friend’s movements jostled his head off Changmin’s shoulder.

Changmin cleared his throat, quietly murmuring, “I’ll be right back”, then slipped out of the front door.

Changmin’s slippers hit the concrete outside the apartment complex with a dull smack. Crisp cool night bit at his cheeks, but when he saw you standing beneath the rusty-orange night sky, he ran up to you and crushed you to his body in a final embrace. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but his mouth curled into a smile against your shoulder.

“I wish we had more time,” he whispered in a last, desperate attempt to implore the universe.

You cradled the back of his head, eyes screwed shut. “Me, too. You have no idea, but… you’re gonna be okay, Kyu. It’ll all be okay.”

Changmin tucked his face into your neck to catch the lingering scent of your shampoo, to memorize the imprint of your body into his brain so he might always remember what holding you felt like. “I’ll make you proud, Yn-ie.”

Silver lined your eyes, your throat tightened—for fuck’s sake, you wished you could cry. “You’ve already made me proud, Changmin.”

———

When Changmin returned, three heads perked up from the couch to watch him settle down next to Chanhee again. They caught the glistening wetness of his eyes, but he smiled through it, as if he had just come back from seeing a friend off.

Changmin curled up into Chanhee’s side, the latter asking him gently, “You okay?”

Changmin nodded. “I’m okay.”

—fin.

BONUS SCENES. — day seven cont’d.

(“Hey, before you go, can I ask you a favor?”; “Anything.”)

A minute after Changmin had settled back in the apartment, he cleared his throat, inclining his head to the shrine. “Guys, I know you said I should really maintain the shrine better, but the shrine maintains itself.”

Everyone followed his line of sight to the shrine where your portrait glowed in the light of only one tea light. However, they all heard, loud and clear, a distinct tap-tap sound against the base of the dark candle. The light blinked to life, and everyone erupted into madness.

Through his friends’ screams, Changmin cackled in hyena-esque delight. “I told you my apartment was haunted!”

DAY TWELVE

“CHANGMIN, over here!”

The street was alive as university students flooded into all cram into the humble bbq restaurant in the district, this chilly Friday evening. Only a lucky few would be able to score a table without having a prior reservation, but lucky for Changmin and his friends, Kevin was always on top of his Yelp notifications.

Changmin beamed at his friends, his eyes widening as Chanhee practically hurled himself down the street and into Changmin’s embrace. “Holy shit—I could’ve become a pancake on the sidewalk just now.”

Chanhee rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Oh shut up, you drama king.”

“Hey, that’s all you, dude.” The two of them walked back over toward where Kevin and Juyeon stood by the door. A long line had formed down the opposite side of the block, but the four of them stood in the area simply waiting for their reservation notification to arrive.

Juyeon brought Changmin in for an affectionate side hug, and Kevin asked him how he was feeling. Changmin answered with a small, affirming nod and statement; though, the deja vu was awfully strong tonight.

Kevin pursed his lips in a smile. “Good, I’m glad, man.” Then his phone lit up, and so too did his face. “Ooh, fuck yeah! Our table’s ready—c’mon!”

Changmin was about to follow his friends in through the door when he stopped short. His head perked up and swiveled to survey the sidewalk. He thought he had just heard his name being called…

“Kyu!”

He whipped around now, and his eyes locked onto a form on the far side of the street. It was a mass crush of people over there, but he could pick you out of a sea of people—anytime, anywhere.

Something seized in his chest, and he broke into a teary-eyed smile. Before he could wave or further acknowledge your presence, someone passed in front of you, and you melted in with the crowd. Gone, as if never there before.

“—Changmin-ah, what’s up? We can’t be seated until we’re all inside.” Chanhee shook Changmin’s shoulder, then followed his gaze. “What’s over there?”

Changmin shook his head and turned on his heel to duck into the warmth of the restaurant with Chanhee. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I just saw an old friend.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading all the way thru and i hope u liked it ! :') pls do consider reblogging this or dropping a comment/ask &lt;3

[clara-maybe-ontheroad]

Random thoughts about Sand/Ray (Only Friends ep 1)

Rewatched the first episode of Only Friends and I have a few (many) random thoughts, here are just the ones about Ray and Sand because they deserved a whole post (everyone else is in this other post) :

Ray mentions his dad in the first scene we ever see him in, getting mad at Sand who told him not to be a burden on other people and replying "are you my father ?"... Foreshadowing much ?

The first interaction between Ray and Sand ends with Sand telling Mew to take care of his friend, and you believe that's what Mew is doing but then next party he abandons him

Ray throwing up and his friends immediately letting him go and pushing him away is... funny in the context of the scene but again I think telling us something about how they're all going to treat him

(Sand/First opening and closing the intro is *chef's kiss*, he's not the main character clearly but as an outsider and a "morally straight" guy he's going to be a force to shake things up I'm sure)

Sand and Ray's second interaction immediately revolves around once again Ray being a burden but also Ray's friends not being present enough for him and Sand disapproves of both

Did Ray already drink and drive before this ? Did anyone stop him before?

Ray's throw up sound in this episode are truly awful and make me quite uncomfortable. Good acting though

Him immediately passing out on a random man's shoulder after being taken to this stranger's place does imply a worrying lack of survival instinct. Baby he could steal your livers ! or what's left of it

(The owner of YOLO bar is Yo, as reiterated many times by Ray and Sand, and given how often he's mentioned he must have a role in the story, but he's hasn't shown up yet ?) (Edit : didn't know Yo was played by Jennie so we have actually seen her around, just haven't gotten a proper scene with her, looking forward to really meeting her !)

Ray becoming aggressive and accusing Sand of stealing his stuff only after Sand says he didn't sleep with him and didn't even consider it seems to indicate that Ray truly thinks people can only take an interest in him for sex or for money. Arf this continues to get more sad

The fact that Ray actually checks his pockets when Sand gives him back his clothes is so indicative of what's actually important to him : not his safety or consent but his material possessions and external signs of wealth

Ray complaining to Mew that he got kicked out by Sand for no reasons is so rich, but again I think Ray truly doesn't realise how what he said was offensive because he's so closed in his own bubble

But Mew saying he thought Boston was taking care of Ray when he literally just asked Ray how he got home last night and knew that Boston refused to take care of Ray is so hypocritical ?! And goes to show he wasn't really bothered to make sure Ray had a way to go home safely. He assumed he'd be fine on his own and didn't care that much

Ray sad that his crush is talking to someone else and driving home alone in his fancy car in a tee shirt that says "Poor Boy" is High Comedy

Boston asking Ray why doesn't he just become Mew's boyfriend was such a dick move, but also Ray is so convincing at denying he would be ? Is it because he's so used to lying about this, or because he doesn't think he's worth Mew's affection so he doesn't even dream of being his boyfriend ?

Ray does have a habit of just exiting the situation for something that his friend all excuse as being one of his addictions (drinking, smoking) and they don't even try to stop him

Sand tells Ray he has his lighter because he got him drunk and stole from him with such confidence I don't care that he's joking he could be telling the truth and I'd find it hot

The moment Sand actually gets visibly angry is when Ray tells him that Sand caring is "boyfriend behaviors" and that's telling on how Sand is disgusted with the idea of being his boyfriend but also resents the fact that caring about being respected is something only boyfriends do... when in fact people who are only friends can too ! (see what I did there)

That dialogue between them does illustrate the power of not just saying sorry, but saying thank you. Which is an actual thing I try to apply in my own life so I thank the show for reminding me haha

the softness in the voice of Sand when he then says "obviously" and agrees to give his lighter to Ray made me melt

Ray's eyes during the whole scene are truly so seductive, Khao does know his fuck me eyes very well

There's no conclusion except to say Sand is going to get fucked by Ray in more ways than one and I'm looking forward to it

[morbiderotica]

omg i loved the mello hcs, can i request the same but for matt? thanku

─ ★ headcanons ... tw: implied suicide, addiction + more.

♡ he was the last of the main boys to leave wammys

♡ he was pretty content with his life at wammys, yk he was provided with everything

♡ he did develop abandonment issues, watching his best friend leave wasn't exactly easy for him

♡ and he definitely carries around guilt for how mello left

"matt. wake up." mello shook matt awake. "dude, go away." matt groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. mello sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "matt." mello tried again, whisper shouting his name. matt refused to respond, willing to hear whatever mello had to say the next day. "okay then. sleep well, i guess." mello whispered before leaving.

♡ when mello left, that's when matt started smoking and playing video games

♡ the video games served as a distraction and the cigarettes killed him slowly

♡ for the longest time matt thought mello left because he brushed him off so he felt like he didn't deserve to be healthy per se

♡ and mello only calling when he was drunk out of his mind or tripping on acid didn't help

♡ he didn't really have much free time between leaving wammy's and joining the mafia

♡ he was terrified at first, knowing literally no one besides mello and these guys literally killed people for a living

♡ his smoking was at an all time high, going through multiple packs a day

♡ he tried to hide it from mello but that only worked for 2 or 3 weeks

"can i borrow some money?" matt desperately asked mello after spending the day gathering the courage to even ask. "for what?" mello inquired, rightfully wanting to know why his friend needed his money. "nevermind." matt went to leave before mello could ask any more questions but it seemed mello already knew. "for cigarettes?" matt stopped in his tracks.

"i saw the empty packs in the trash." matt mentally cursed himself for putting so many packs in an empty trashcan. "it's gonna kill you, y'know." matt stopped himself from making a dumb joke like 'that's the point' or 'not before one of the guys who carry a gun everywhere does'. "it would be inconvenient if you died." matt knew that was mello's way of saying he cared. "sorry." matt muttered before leaving the room.

♡ eventually he got used to all of it, cutting down on the cigarettes barely

♡ when he was shot all he could think about was mello

♡ even with all those bullet wounds he was slowly dying for a few minutes

♡ he was scared he failed mello like somehow him being shot was going to fuck the plan up

♡ and he thought about how mello said his death would be inconvenient

♡ he was just really distressed in his last moments

─ ★ bonus

♡ he gets these really rough episodes where he can't eat or sleep

♡ it drives mello insane because he doesn't understand what the hell matt is doing

♡ and then a few days later it's like nothing happened and matt's back to his usual self

♡ dare i say he had a wet dream of mello once

♡ he couldn't physically look mello in the eyes for 2 weeks

♡ he will take that to the grave no matter how much mello pesters matt to tell him

♡ he kinda misses near and has tried to reach out a couple times

♡ they weren't that close at wammy's but still, matt felt the need to make sure he was okay

♡ near usually doesn't answer, but this one time he did, and matt almost had a heart attack

[bookswithahintofsarcasm123]

Love and Other Words

8/10 "I haven't been living without him. I've been merely surviving."

☆INFO☆ Get someone who loves you like Elliot and Macy love each other. When Macy was 10, her dad bought a vacation house after her Mom died of cancer due to her Mom's request. There, she becomes best friends with Elliot Petropoulous, where every weekend they spend time reading, talking, playing and growing inseparable. But something happens which drives them apart, causing them to not talk for years until they run into each other by chance 11 years later. Told through alternating timelines, it's revealed what really happened that drove them apart all those years ago. The question is, can they really get back together after learning the full truth?

💜REVIEW💜 I know it's basically winter right now, but this book transported me to lazy summer afternoons spent at a vacation house with my soulmate, even though that's never happened to me 💀. This book felt so immersive, since it really sucks you into the past lives of these characters living in that summer house with all those years spent pining over each other. The relationship between Elliot and Macy felt so deep, intimate, and special. They aren't only best friends or lovers, they're everything to each other. The best way to describe them is that they're soulmates and their bond is so beautiful and touching. I genuinely felt like I was intruding on something during some of the romantic scenes, even though these characters are literally words on paper 😀. I also appreciate how the MC's fiance wasn't a jerk, he was just an okay guy, and they weren't very into each other. 

Now, though this book was great, I didn't completely fall in love with it like most people did, though it was still very good. There was also this scene towards the end that reveals why they separated for so long, and though it reveals everything, I feel like it could've been handled so much better, and it would've been nice if they handled what happened differently.

SPOLIERS BELOW

When it reveals what happened that drove them apart, it reveals Elliot slept with Emma since he thought it was Macy while he was very drunk. However, it is obvious that Emma raped him, since he had no clue what was going on and was drunk. He even mentions that he couldn't be intimate with a woman for years without breaking down, which heavly implies there was no consent in the act. This, however, was basically brushed to the side and barely ever talked about, which annoyed the hell out of me since it could've been a good way to talk about male sexual abuse. I have seen on Christina Lauren's Instagram account that they will touch on Elliot's sexual assault in the next book, which is good. However, I wish they would have addressed it more instead of brushing it aside.

Either way, this is the perfect book for people who hate winter and just want to get into the summer feeling early. It's me. I'm people.

[vettelsbitch]

Just saw that Bezz cele post now, i am making weird noises and i'm almost sobbing. Oh how I love those Cele insights 😭 please always tell us when you have more <3 😭

That idk if im coming home after uni really got to me and my stomach, CELE DO SOMETHING AND GO GET YOUR MAN, he and his kid love you

Kidfic anon here btw 🤭

Beloved! I'm so sorry that this AU is just unconnected blurbs from my brain and not any actual good consistent fully written out story

I can tell you that of course Cele gets his man, there's no way he doesnt, but..

I can think of three ways this could play out, but I'm at work so have two since the third is a mix between them:

1. Happy happy happy no conflict Cele stays love and light and nothing bad ever happens. Boring.

2. Cele goes back home, he has a job lined up there and he does miss his parents a lot. Maybe this implies another fight because he wants so much, he's young, he's full of need and want and desperation, and he asks Marco to go with him, but of course he can't uproot his family for Cele (it's not that he doesn't love him to the point that it hurts, but he has to be realistic, Teo is in school, he's got friend, he has a good enough job, he's closer to family, etc). They would both be MISERABLE, Luca would threaten to put Marco in a box and literally ship him up north to Cele. Matteo is grumpy too, he misses Cele and doesn't understand why they can't talk/facetime him (like they do with Mig, his dad's bestie who is in some soul searching trip somewhere probably getting bitten by bugs). Pecco, Luca and Mig do an intervention, that gets Marco messaging Cele after months (three/four? Idk not that many probably, depends on the level of angst you want) and over text stuff seems easier and harder at the same time, and they have kissed by this point already and Cele is so so so so ready for anything, anything. Tentative, so slow, Cele absolutely gets drunk and sends Marco some nudes one night and he almost brains himself while cleaning the bathroom after helping Marco bathe while the floor is still wet and he peeks at his phone. Maybe Luca is getting married here too and he insists on Marco telling him who is his +1 and that's makes Marco take a free day from work, get Matteo and Rubik in the car and drive up north until he's at Cele's parents door (he has his own small flat but Marco doesn't know that and he only remembers this from x conversation) and Cele's mom is soooooo nice to Matteo and she absolutely know who they are and when Cele gets there for dinner he gets the scare of his life. Anyway, he's Marco's+1 and they start really dating, long distance and with difficulty but then Cele gets a job closer and everything works out in the end.

[ghstdoll]

truth be told she knew nothing about religion or how it worked, or why people were so committed to a bunch of rules given to them to get into some special place after you died. it seemed silly, and a bit cult-y for regulus to be so scared of just being a teenage boy because at every turn he could do something wrong. no sex, no drinking and apparently no dating who you wanted to date. "I've never actually been in a church so...and according to your girlfriend I'd probably burn alive if I ever stepped into one." daphne never directly said it, she liked to appear to be too kind for that but things she did say implied it, or the way she looked at salem with her nose in the air as well.

it seemed he still didn't get it, which is aggressively adorable but also kind of stressful because salem was being kind of forward with her intentions. "you do understand that I'm trying to hear it right? I wanna know what you think about me...im not scared of sin." what kind of god tells you that you're not allowed to have pleasure? she didn't get it and she's not sure she wants tom she had a mother who traumatized her enough growing up. she gets it's wrong to not only go after a man who was taken not only that but someone who made a promise to not have sex, what she's doing is wrong and probably makes her the bad guy in all of this but it's also not like he says no, if anything he's encouraging her behavior, begging to touch her as his green eyes stare at her breasts instead of the road. "you could even taste them if you wanted to." she purrs. almost wanting to act surprised he was even agreeing to this as easily as he was, it makes it hotter, was he really that repressed? blue eyes glance down at his lap and she can see he's hard and she's just gotten started. "maybe I'll even teach you how to fuck them...or do we have to wait till you're married to daphne." she jokes again, implying she would still want him even if he was married, she'd want him not matter who he belonged to or what he believed in, she wants him so bad it makes her feel like she's going insane.

she smirks a little, feeling his phone getting warm between her thighs, knowing the blonde is probably already listening to sad taylor swift songs on repeat as she waits for him to send her that one text, just one to make her feel safe. yet he wasn't going to do that, at least not now. he was busy and ready to have someone far more deserving. "you have no idea the power you hold do you sweet boy?" she purrs. "it's enough to drive a woman crazy like enough to lie about being drunk so I can get you alone." she traces against his leg, looking down at his hard cock under his fabric as she inches her fingers a little closer, waiting on a reaction to see how he responds.

regulus asks salem if she would beg for him and she can't help but smirk. "maybe...I think I would look pretty cute on my knees begging for you to fuck my throat. don't you?" she teases. "but to answer your question yeah, I mean I literally planned this whole night to get you here...daphne doesn't appreciate what she has, she doesn't get you the way I do." she's only known him a week but she understands there's so much more to him, he's too good for the world he's in, too good for the girl he's with.

she moves her hand closer, mouth watering at the idea of releasing him from his pants and taking him, finally claiming him. she looks up into his eyes, biting down on her bottom lip as he tells her he's thought about it, but that he thought about it even more with her. It was like giving her the greenlight, making her him as she undoes her seat belt. "do you wanna know what it feels like then? to have a warm mouth around your dick?" she hums, letting her palm brush against his bulge now. "you don't even have to pull over."she sits on her knees in the passenger side, facing him as she tugs down from the top of her shirt and tugging it down until it's under her breasts. "do you want me church boy?'

he laughs at her words, already easing up in her presence. she’s likeable too, on top of being the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. he wonders what it would have been like, if he was set up with someone like salem and not daphne; someone he at least enjoyed talking to, at the very least. “i haven’t watched that movie, but no, jesus doesn’t work like an urban legend. you would think so, considering what catholic mass looks like.” he pauses thoughtfully. “our priest might be able to pass as slenderman, in the right lighting.”

she seems like she’s flirting with him, which makes his heart race, trying to focus on the road. “you looked up the meaning of my name?” he asks softly, a little surprised. he didn’t realize her interest ran that deep. “my father gave it to me… it’s a family thing. we’ve always had celestial names.” he can’t help but feel lighter, knowing that she finds him attractive. she’s looking at him now, her eyes moving over his body and distracting him even more. he knows it’s wrong to think about this, and in a way he’s already unfaithful because he definitely wants salem to touch him again. “i would say the same about how you dressed, but you’re always beautiful,” he says honestly, ignoring that guilt. it’s just the truth, isn’t it? that she’s perfect to look at and he likes to look at her, even if he’s not checking out her body and it’s just her pretty face. besides, he’s just complimenting her back, right?

he knows immediately that he’s trying to make excuses for himself, because when she turns her body towards him his green eyes stray over to her again, looking at her perfect curves and all of that skin exposed in her tight little outfit. he almost doesn’t hear her words because he’s so hard, already aching for her and he’s only just looking. there’s something sexy about her confidence, so different from anyone he’s ever met. he’s unable to stop glancing over at her, especially when she runs her fingers across her tits, smoothing the tight fabric of her top. it draws his attention to her nipples poking through, making him salivate because he’s picturing what they look like outside of the top. he flushes, knowing she can probably see his erection because he hasn’t been able to adjust himself, his hands on the wheel. her commentary about god’s flood is amusing, even if it isn’t relevant. “yeah, that’s now how it works…” there’s a resigned tone to his voice, as if he fully realizes how ridiculous abstienence seems to people who aren’t raised catholic.

“i don’t know if you want to hear about these particular sins,” he replies when she offers to listen, wondering if she would feel objectified or think of him differently because of the thoughts he’s had about her. it wouldn’t be respectul of him to share them, would it? not just to salem, but to daphne, too. but he already feels like he’s cheated, with his dick so hard that it’s already throbbing for her, and he almost went off the road on a bend because he was looking at her perfect cleavage. he can’t get it out of his head how sexy she looked with her fingers dragging down her top, touching her own tits like she wanted him to look.

she explains her confidence and he listens intently, both because he finds her genuinely interesting and because he thinks she’s right. there’s no reason why she shouldn’t be proud of her beautiful body– shouldn’t they all be appreciating the positives about themselves and other people? why was it wrong for him to admire her? but he knows it goes deeper than that, from both his relationship to the complicated way that sin works. all he knows is he wants her and he can’t deny it; not anymore. she looks too perfect, sitting in the seat next to him and calling him sexy. her compliment makes his heart race, a faint smile tugging on his lips. he’s never felt like this before– this electric feeling, like if she touched him he would die because it was too intense to handle. he glances down at her breasts again, a small shiver passing through his frame. it feels different now, because she said she likes him looking. she even said he can do more than look, which makes his mouth water again. “will you let me touch them?” he speaks quietly, not even recognizing himself as he asks. “c-can i see them?” he already has a fantasy in his head of what it would be like if she pulled her top down now. he wonders how beautiful they are, and how good he would feel just looking at them.

her question about daphne is a little sobering, puling him out of his fantasy where he gets to see her perfect chest right here in his car. daphne feels far away now, lost behind the passion and lust he has for salem, wanting her so much that he’s aching. “because i wanted to see you instead,” he admits quietly, green eyes looking her up and down.

her hand is on his thigh and it’s hard to breathe, a shaky sigh leaving him as he looks down at her perfect fingers. she confesses she’s sober but he doesn’t care; he just wants her, and his nerves are on fire because she’s touching him at all. she calls him a sweetheart again, making his breathing change, so turned on that he didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. but then she says that it should be a sin daphne isn’begging for him and he has to make an effort not to take his focus completely off the road, his heart leaping in his chest. “you would beg for me?” he asks softly, trying to picture what that would sound like. 

he’s so horny that it feels like he could cum without being touched at this point, a flush in his body as he tries to answer her next question. he’s seen porn before, but he went to confession and never watched it again, trying his best not to think of what he’d seen and how he wonders what it feels like. but he’s thought about it again recently, wondering what it would feel like with someone as pretty as salem. “a few times… more often now, since you moved here,” he admits, voice thick with desire, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth.

[davinashifts333]

sugar daddy namjoon😌

okay this REALLY made me think but i initially loved the idea, hope this was good.

WHAT NAMJOON BEING YOUR SUGAR DADDY WOULD BE LIKE:

⚫️summary; basically just headcanons of you being Kim Namjoon’s sugar baby. 🥹

⚠️warnings; implied smut, sugar daddy/sugar baby established relationship, swearing, sex for gifts/money/etc. 18+ please go away. thanks.

•

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•

-when Namjoon, or as he likes you to call him, Mr. Kim first asked you to be his sugar baby he had no idea he would genuinely prefer spending time with you over his wife.

-after 3 months he divorced his wife to be with you full time. still never establishing a serious relationship but knowing you were his & he was yours.

-he showers you with gifts, jewels, rings, dresses with crystals embedded in the lining, heels with diamonds & accessories GALORE.

-he LOVES to hear you call him; Daddy, Mr. Kim, Daddy Mon, Mr. Monster, Namjoon, etc. he especially likes when you scream his name but that’s for a more private setting.

-Namjoon as a sugar daddy is so demanding yet so sweet. he hated the idea of people claiming you were just a whore or his personal sex toy… which you kind of were but you genuinely cared for one another…

-the Bangtan boys often hear your late night shenanigans so when they see you leaving they always tease you.

“byeeee Y/n, hope you had a fun night! 👀”

-Namjoon never expects it but seeing as he’s a dominant man he would do anything for you, he’s even let you take control sometimes, mostly ending the night with him punishing you for edging him so much.

-the sex is literally GODLY. this man is a BUILT- as Jungkook would say - “Big Body” guy so it’s literally him trying not to break you while he’s ramming himself inside you.

-Namjoon calling you; Babygirl, My Dirty Little Princess, Honey, Sweetheart, Pretty Little Slut, etc. but especially loves calling you Mommy. 🫣

-MAJOR DADDY KINK.

-MAJOR DEGRADING KINK.

-calling you at 3am after he gets home from an awards show so you could help him destress or celebrate.

-obviously you’re younger than him so when he sees you pouting he lightly slaps your cheek before grabbing your face in his hands while telling you;

“Oh sweetheart. Stop pouting before I make you choke on my cock.”

-him flying you from your hometown to Korea (if you’re not from there, if you are he has you driven to the BTS house just to have his way with you).

-buying you a shit load of lingerie just for you to have him rip it off your body.

-saying things that make you melt in every way for him;

“Look how pretty you look all drunk on me. Do I make you wet baby?”

“You feel so good sweetheart. Roll those hips a little harder for me.”

“Cum baby. Cum.”

“Now we don’t want the boys to hear you. Or maybe we do, go ahead… scream my name babygirl.”

“Who bought you this sexy outfit? Go ahead, say it baby.”

-knowing all of his sweet spots so when you’re out together, you make SURE to tease him.

-after care is a MUST he loves bathing with you because it just ends up with a cock warming session.

-SHOWER SEX.

-STUDIO SEX.

-LIMO/CAR SEX.

-obvi he can’t drive so think of it as the song Partition by Beyoncé. driver trying to sneak a peek while he fingers you in the backseat & rips your dress off, only to have to turn back around instead of reaching your destination.

-THESE HOT WORDS COMING OUT OF HIS MOUTH;

“Stop complaining i’ll buy you a new dress. Just get on your knees.”

“You look so gorgeous with my cock in your mouth baby.”

“My pretty little slut, get on the bed.”

-he loves physical affection so seeing as you’re the only one who gives it to him the way he likes, he cannot get enough of it. or you.

-when he sees you out at a club in that tight little dress he bought for you & the huge iced out necklace sitting right above your perky tits he takes you to his private room he always has reserved & fuck the living daylights out of you.

-in nicer & sweeter terms he always looks out for you. 

-no matter what he will always be a call away if you need anything.

-one month you barely made rent & had little to no money left for yourself so he had staff go over your head & pay your bills 5 months in advance as well as sending you $3000 so you could be set.

-obviously after you tried to decline the help he had you faced down on the mattress begging him to let you release. im which he had the audacity to say;

“Let your Daddy help you & he’ll let you cum babygirl.” as his paced slowed down & before you could say yes he slammed back into you, turning that yes into a scream.

“Good girl. Daddy’s gonna take care of you don’t worry.”

-mocking him about the ‘expensive girl’ cover he did & making him sing it to you.

-wearing his button up shirts with nothing under it just so he can have easy access.

-idk what else to write because just the THOUGHT OF KIM NAM FUCKING JOON BEING YOUR SUGAR DADDY IS SUCH A TURN ON. k bye i’m done now lol. maybe i’ll make a part 2. maybe not.

•

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MORE TO COME! ENJOY! 🫶🏼

[lunar-years]

I’m trying not to focus on shipping war nonsense because I have learned that my world is so much more peaceful when I mind my own business and stay in the little corner of fandom that agrees with me. But with that said…I am absolutely about to rehash old season 1 & 2 arguments, because some of y’all can’t seem to let anything GO and I am sick to death of hearing about it! (sorry for the length of this in advance. I really need to get this all out of my system at once so that I can go back to nicely shutting up about it.)

1) As for what inspired this post… I do find it interesting that there are still people trying to insist that Steve didn’t walk out on a blackout drunk Nancy at that party and instead claim “he asked Jonathan to take her home first.” It’s just that…no he didn’t? There is literally a scene of Steve shoving angrily past Jonathan and other partygoers and out the door? In fact, this is presumably what tips Jonathan off to go look for Nancy in the first place. Yes, Jonathan later tells Nancy that Steve asked him to drive her, but it’s pretty clear that he’s lying. He’s saying it because he doesn’t want Nancy to be more upset than she already is re: Steve. He’s just trying to be a good friend and to comfort her.

This misconception alone might not piss me off so much if it wasn’t for many of the same fans then insisting that jancy shippers or even just Nancy fans are delusional for holding true to the belief that Nancy never cheated and that she and Steve were broken up when she and Jonathan got together. Somehow we’re supposed to believe that Steve walking back into the party, seeking out Jonathan, and asking him to take Nancy home is all “implied”—despite a direct scene pointing to the contrary—but: “Well then tell me.” “Tell you what?” “That you love me.” “…Really?” *cue a long moment in which Nancy is unable to say it because it clearly isn’t true, and Steve clearly realizes it.* “I think that you’re bullshit.” *Steve walks away. Nancy says nothing and does not go after him*…is not a ‘clear enough’ breakup? Yeah, because they totally would have come back from that one if only *checks notes* big bad Nancy hadn’t gone off and ~cheated~ on poor Steve with creepy Jonathan. Right.

(It’s the needing to be spoon fed the breakup but then making up ridiculous justifications for Steve’s behavior to try to either absolve him or worse, to demonize Nancy and/or Jonathan, for me….)

2) Comparing Steve and Jonathan’s past mistakes is just dumb to begin with because they have both grown from their season one arcs. Still, if I have to see one more post about how Jonathan is completely irredeemable for taking that photo of Nancy, I might actually lose my mind. “Why have people suddenly forgotten Jonathan being a CREEP and STALKING Nancy in season one!!!” Listen. I can guarantee you that no one has forgotten it because y’all insist on bringing it up every. two. seconds. Please be serious.

•though you’d think otherwise from the way people talk about it, funnily enough I have never seen a single jancy or Jonathan enjoyer claim this was anything less than a horrific violation of privacy and yes, creepy and disrespectful behavior on Jonathan’s part. 

•Jonathan gives a sincere apology, which Nancy then accepts. He never repeats the behavior and he never tries to justify his actions.

•that’s all there is to it. You can like him or not, of course, but it’s ridiculous to go on and ON about this years later, often while, at the same time, jumping through hoops to claim Steve’s myriad of wrongs aren’t ‘nearly as bad’ as Jonathan’s photos. Steve calls Nancy a slut, lets his friends declare it on the theater billboard to the whole town. He pressures her about sex. He insults Jonathan’s family, including his missing kid brother, and calls him a slur. He definitely leaves Nancy alone at that party. I like Steve (though damn, do his stans work hard at getting me not to) and I obviously like Jonathan, but that’s because I can acknowledge that they’ve both grown, and I also don’t selectively pick and choose what parts of their arcs I care to remember.

3) which brings me to…season four. Honestly most of the st*ncy flirtations were pretty harmless (if forced, imo) and I firmly believe that people are allowed to have ‘moments’ with other people even when one or both of those people are in a relationship without either one being immediately crucified for it. Obviously Nancy and Jonathan had some similar moments between them in season one/two when she was still with Steve. I didn’t think she was ~emotionally cheating~ then and believe me, I don’t think she is with Steve now, either. I also don’t think Steve was being like, wildly disrespectful to Nancy and Jonathan’s relationship for most of the season (for instance, his comment about the three of them and Robin hanging out after all this is over felt sincere)

That said…it definitely got a little squirmy there by the end and I have no idea why the writers had to push it so far even if they wanted to resurrect the stupid love triangle for season five. Telling an ex who’s in a relationship that you’re dreaming about having six kids with her is…yeahhh…totally out-of-pocket, lol. Even if she wasn’t in a relationship it’d be totally weird, but it makes it worse that she is, because it means Steve’s not only disrespecting Nancy, he’s also disrespecting Jonathan. (It was a bizarre writing choice, so believe me I’m mad for Steve’s character arc at this point, too.)

Yet, what do st*ncy and Steve fans choose to go on and on about? An off-the-cuff joke from Jonathan about how Steve isn’t much of a leader like Nancy is. It’s so not even that serious, lmao. I mean, what?? Jonathan and Steve haven’t spoken in years, and have cordially spoken pretty much never. I think Jonathan’s allowed to get a small barb in (note: I think this was a weird writing choice too, because why would Jonathan even be thinking about Steve? It’s out of left field. But again. Love triangle drama. Sigh.)

At this point it’s just getting ridiculous. At the end of the day ship whatever you want to ship, but maybe find a way to do so that doesn’t revolve around repeatedly trying to trash the other side using the same stale, nonsensical arguments. Or at least keep it out of the jancy and Jonathan tags, Jesus Christ.

[starchxn]

Overdrive | Bang Chan

⥃Stray Kids Masterlist

Pairing ➳ Slight Baker! Bang Chan X Gender Neutral Reader.

Genre ➳ Strangers to (kind of) Lovers AU, (Implied) College AU, Slight Angst, Fluff.

Word Count ➳ 1,357 Words.

Warnings ➳ Mention of Alcohol (though both Chan and the Reader are not explicitly mentioned to have drunk any) Slight hyperventilation/panic, Reader has a few thoughts of low self esteem.

Synopsis ➳ Chan was just supposed to deliver four boxes of cupcakes to a frat house on New Year's Eve, surely nothing would go terribly wrong… right?

A/N ➳ This fic is dedicated especially to @mxxndreams (SURPRISE!) on behalf of the @districtninewriters Winter Fic Exchange Event. I apologise for not interacting much with you during the writing process but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

I also tried my best to make this fic a gender-neutral one so if you spot any mistakes/indication of gender please don't hesitate to inform me <3

The car engine idled to a stop as multiple people turned to look at the newest guest who had arrived at the bustling party. Cheers and loud greetings followed him as more and more people recognised his familiar face, walking over to meet him.

“Chan! Too busy to come party?” One of the guests called out cheerfully, speech lightly slurred from what he suspected was alcohol.

“I'm afraid so, I only came here to drop these boxes off for Hyunjin. Speaking of, where is he?” Chan frowned as he failed to spot the raven-haired man in the bustling crowd.

“Must be inside, I must say he's quite caught up in the 'hosting' part of it all. I don't think he'd be coming out anytime soon.” One of the other guests nodded towards the house practically booming with music before going back to chatting within the group he was with.

Chan cringed at the thought of pushing through a crowd of sweaty people in a house practically vibrating with the volume of the music just to deliver four boxes of cupcakes.

However, as if the situation were contradicting his thoughts, the music booming inside the house instantaneously reduced, previously vibrating ground coming to a sudden stillness. Shouts carried over the crowd in the sudden placidity of the night as people parted from the driveway of the house in a line as someone bolted out, running as gleaming tears streamed down the corners of their eyes.

They were barreling straight toward him.

“Whoa-“ He started, but was interrupted as soon as they pulled open the car door and wedged themselves in, stunning him into silence.

“Hello, I don’t know you and you probably hate me for literally barging into your life but can you please drive me away from here before I have a complete breakdown?” You rambled away, almost hyperventilating.

“Whoa, whoa, hey calm down! Let’s get you out of here.” Chan started the engine and stepped on the gas immediately, swivelling into the road and driving away from the house as the guests simply stared after them.

For the next thirty minutes, all Chan could do was drive as far as he possibly could from the rich district and into the motorway, speeding into the night all while his phone rang with at least fifteen missed calls from Felix, presumably asking him if he’d delivered the cupcakes.

All while a mysterious person sat sniffling on the passenger seat of his car.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” You finally broke the silence as Chan’s phone lit up yet again.

“I’d rather not unless you plan on going back,” He cringed, silencing it with one hand while the other stayed firmly on the steering wheel.

“Not really, no,” You replied, your voice cracking.

“Are you okay-?” Chan started but turned to silence when he realised it wasn’t the best question he could’ve asked. To counter his actions, he pulled into the side of the road and let the engine sit idle to give him some ease as he tried to talk to you.

“Yeah I just realised running into a random stranger’s car and letting him drive me into an isolated road isn’t one of my best-taken decisions,” You admitted awkwardly, scratching your neck in embarrassment.

“Oh… OH, THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE I SWEAR!” Chan’s volume increased drastically which caused you to cringe which in turn sent him into yet another fit of panic.

“Oh my god no I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you but like I swear I’m not gonna do anything to you it’s just that you told me to drive you away from the house but I didn’t know your address so I just kind of meaninglessly drove-” He rambled on and on, hands flailing about as his eyes grew as wide as saucers.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered state, but you were too late to stop a fresh wave of sobs from tumbling out of your mouth as the cold, biting wind whipped through the open-roofed car.

Chan watched in stunned silence as your body wracked itself with sobs, tears gleaming under the moonlight as they ran down your cheek.

In one last, feeble attempt to redeem himself, he mumbled something about getting out of the car, something which you definitely hadn’t heard, before he leapt out and strode straight toward the trunk, opening it with one swift click.

He took out a giant, fluffy blanket.

Swiftly closing the trunk and returning to the front of the car, he opened the door to the passenger side and knelt down, sitting face-to-face with you.

“Do you mind if I drape this over you?” He asked as he looked over your shivering and shaking form.

You simply nodded in consent.

He unfolded the large, fluffy mass of cloth and engulfed you in it completely, shielding you away from the cold, heavy wind and welcoming you in the calming warmth.

As he returned to his seat and turned on the radio to the lowest volume, your sobs died out into sniffles and occasional hiccups as your body calmed down from the second breakdown of the night.

“What a way to spend New Year's Eve, am I right? In a stranger’s car having a breakdown in front of someone you met and practically threatened barely thirty minutes ago,” You sputtered, chuckling in self-disdain.

“Hey, at least you can tell people you had the breakdown of the year,” He joked awkwardly but failed to make you laugh yet again.

“I’m sorry for all of this. I’m so dumb to pull you into this,”

“Don’t apologise for something that’s not your fault at all,”

“But it is. Everything always is,”

“Hey, look at me.” He inched closer but didn’t dare to initiate any contact in case you were uncomfortable.

You stared deep into his starlit orbs, blown away yet transfixed at their intensity.

“The universe has strange ways of bringing people together. This is just a strange way of the universe saying hey, you should make a new friend this year, why not start now? So don’t, and never blame yourself for inconveniencing people because it’s the last thing I’m feeling right now,”

“You give a very convincing argument,”

“I guess I am a very convincing person-?” He admitted, albeit confused.

The gentle buzz of the music in the radio came to a rolling stop as the host took over, starting the countdown for New Year's.

10

9

“Can I hug you?” You blurted it out so suddenly, even you were surprised by it.

8

7

“…Sure? If you’re comfortable with it,” He smiled, uncovering two dimples by his lips.

6

5

“I’m sorry, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, it’s just that you look really… hug-able right now,” You didn’t quite know how to phrase your thoughts any other way.

4

3

“Please stop apologising, I’m absolutely okay with you hugging me but if you keep apologising I might have to initiate the hug to stop you again,”

2

1

You didn’t need another signal before you closed the distance between the two of you and engulfed yourselves in a hug.

It was officially the cosiest hug you’d ever had in your life.

You were immediately assaulted with the smell of chocolate and vanilla as his red-white woolly sweater only added to the warmth of the blanket. His broad chest let you nuzzle into his body perfectly as he leaned his head gently over your shoulder and rested his hands on your waist.

“You smell like chocolate,”

“You’re welcome…?”

“Has anyone ever told you how cosy your hugs are?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the first one actually,”

“Well, they are,”

“Good to know,”

“I think I'm going into overdrive,”

“Well- do I- do you want something- I don't know what to say-?”

“I should probably stop before it gets too warm,”

“Yeah,”

“I’m kinda stuck-“

“Where-?”

“That sounds concerningly wrong,”

“I just realised that, yeah,”

“I think your earring’s in my hair,”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,”

“I’d consider this a good start to my New Year.”

The End.

⥃Stray Kids Masterlist

© starchxn 2021. do not repost, modify, or translate.

[missuga]

Roadtrip pt.1 — Kirishima Eijirou

Summary: You and Kirishima go on a spur of the moment road trip. Almost everything goes wrong, from leaving your aux cord at home, to dropping your phone in a convenience store bathroom garbage, to losing the address for the hotel planned for the night. You end up having to stay in a tiny motel with just a twin bed.

Content Warnings & wc:  aged up, college au. fluff, not really any warnings, unedited | 2.1k

Note from Em: I remember writing this when I was wine drunk last year and I wanted to do a serious of roadtrip fics, repost from old blog! I didn’t really change much other than take bakugo’s fic out of the post bc I'm incredibly lazy my writing style is different now sooo enjoy old em’s writing!

Implied Female Reader — 18+ only | sfw

This was turning out to be almost a perfect disaster. Nearly everything that had been planned before leaving had failed. Even though you planned only about three things in total. You were thinking maybe you should’ve spent more time on what exactly you and Kirishima were going to do. And where you were going.

Kirishima insisted on driving, so he let you play what ever music you wanted. The first hour spent the two of you only talked, it was too early for music anyway. But by the time you pulled your phone out to put music on, you were too far to turn back to get your forgotten aux cord. Kirishima just laughed at the loud groan you let out once you realized that you couldn’t connect your phone to the speakers.

“Hey, it’s all good, we can just listen to the radio.” He said. You supposed that would have to be good enough. When he reached over to turn the power knob and it came off in his hand, it became aware to you that this trip was not starting out on a good track.

“Well that sucks.” You said, staring at the knob. Kirishima laughed again at your words. “Thanks for breaking my car.”

“Woah, not my fault. This car is older than my mother, I think. I’m surprised it hasn’t turned to dust yet.” He said back, tossing the knob at you.

“It was either my take my parents offer of letting us take this, or Kaminari’s car. Which I am fairly certain there is animals living under the junk in the back.” You definitely didn’t want to take the chance on the latter option.

“You might be right actually; I didn’t think about that.” Kirishima said grimacing slightly.

The second thing you had planned was to stop and get coffee at a small café. Thing is, you had been looking for a few hours. You thought you had found a couple, but when Kirishima pulled the car up to the front, they were either closed or literally abandoned. One ended up being a front for a speakeasy.

“I don’t think we’re gonna find a café.” Kirishima said after the fourth one was a bust. You sat in the parking lot still, trying to figure out where to go next.

“I think you might be right.” You groaned. Kirishima yawned and stretched his arms out in front of him. He had been driving for a while now, he looked like he could use some caffeine. “Do you just wanna go to a convenience store or something? Grab a couple energy drinks and some snacks?”

“Heck yeah I do. I love road trip snacks.” He grinned and started the car again. Thankfully there was a small shop quite close to the last café you were at.

You split up once you went in, making a beeline straight to the restroom. It was probably a good idea to go to the bathroom now that you were here. It was a terribly gross restroom; the stall doors didn’t even shut all the way. You rushed yourself wanting to get out of it quickly. When you were finished washing your hands, you went to throw out the paper you dried your hands on but dropped your phone in the garbage instead. Just your luck.

Carefully you fished it out trying not to touch the insides of the can. At least you had hand sanitizer on you. You doused your phone in it, hoping to rub away all the nasty stuff it had touched in the garbage. After a lot longer than you had wanted to spend in the restroom you pushed the door open with your foot.

“I was wondering when you were gonna come out.” Kirishima said. He was leaning against the door frame. “I was gonna get together a search party for you in a minute, I thought you had gone missing.”

“Oh, ha ha. It was nasty in there and I dropped my phone in the garbage because I was rushing.” You said holding up your phone to show him, laughing as he feigned a look of disgust.

“Ew, get that away from me.” Kirishima said distancing himself from you slightly as he glanced at you phone. 

“Shut up. Did you at least get anything good with the abundance of time on your hands?” You glanced at the basket in his hands, it was piled full of random stuff.  

“Obviously, you’re talking to a road trip master.” He nodded completely serious and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Oh right, I completely forgot.”

Kirishima had picked up an aux cord when he was paying at the store. You were so excited when he showed you; you made a playlist for the road trip and you wanted to listen to it. The next few hours consisted of driving on the same road, eating the occasional snacks and the two of you jamming out to music from middle school.

 It was so fun being able to spend some time with Kirishima with nothing else to worry about. Except for all the little things that kept going wrong. After playing music from your phone the past few hours it had dropped charge very fast. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if it didn’t have the address of the hotel you two were supposed to stay at.

“Kiri, do you have a phone car charger?” You asked staring at the now dead phone. It had been through so much today.

“Ahhhh, shit no I don’t. Check the glove box, maybe your parents had one in it?” He asked glancing at the compartment. You already knew they didn’t keep anything good in the old car but you gave it a shot anyways.

Luck was not on your side again though; the glove box was empty. It fell open with a soft thud.

“Wonderful.” You said nearly facepalming. You hadn’t brought yours because the you guys thought you’d be at the hotel way earlier than now. “We need maps for the hotel.”

“You can use mine!” Kirishima said handing you his phone. “Mine is charged enough.” You couldn’t help but laughslightly at his background. It was him standing with a cardboard cut out of Crimson Riot, a huge smile on his face.

“Cute background.” You said nudging his arm and blush broke out on his face when he realized what you meant.

“The cut out was so cool! How could I not snag a pic with it?” His blush only deepened as he explained himself, it was adorable. You just shook your head and turned back to the phone, opening the maps app.

“I don’t remember the address.” You mumbled after a minute of staring at the search bar, you never thought to write it down just in case. 

“I don’t think I ever even looked at it.” He said rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands almost in defeat.

“I feel bad you’ve been driving literally all day. I could’ve at least remembered the address of our hotel.” You said rubbing your hands over your eyes. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah, a little. But I can keep driving, we’ve got to be at least close to another hotel?” Kirishima said quickly flashing you a smile. It was getting late now and for all you knew the place you booked could be hours away.

“Give me one sec, I’ll look something up.” You said and after a minute you found a motel near by on the road you were driving. “I found a plan b, but it’s no five-star hotel.”

“You’ll be there, so it sounds like heaven to me.” He said a cheeky grin resting on his face now,, and you were a little thankful for how he always seemed to lighten the mood.  “Let’s settle there for the night, we both could use some sleep.”

The old man at the check in counter looked bored, annoyed once he saw you walk in. It was a small motel, maybe ten rooms at max. The lobby was even tinier, just a chair in the corner and a couple fake plants on the table next to it.

“Can I help you?” The man said gruffly. The name on his badge was smeared, you couldn’t read it.

You stood behind Kirishima, holding your bag over your shoulder. He walked up to the counter and smiled hesitantly. “Yeah, um do you have any rooms available?”

The man stared at him for what seemed like a whole minute. “Don’t know.”

Kirishima looked back at you with wide eyes. You shrugged your shoulders almost amused at the mans behavior.

“Can you, check maybe? We’re sorry it’s just been a long day and we’re tired.”

“Yeah, whatever. Give me a second.” The old man grunted and looked down at the book in front of him. It sounded like he tried to clear his throat but then it turned into a coughing fit. Kirishima looked at you again in disbelief and it took everything in you not to laugh. The man hit his chest a few times and stopped coughing, looking up.  “Room two’s free.”

“Great! We’ll take it.” You said quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. You hadn’t even thought to ask about the room, desperate to leave the lobby. 

Once you got to the room and set your stuff down, the exhaustion of the day hit you. You could only imagine how Kirishima felt after driving all day. The room was very small, with one bed, a chair and table, and an old box tv sitting on a bookshelf. It wasn’t much but it was perfect for the night, until you noticed the bed was a twin bed. Shit.

“Kiri.” You said, after he came out of the bathroom. “Look at the bed.”

“Is something wrong with it? Does it have bugs or something!” He asked without even looking at it.

“No, you dummy, just look.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how his mind started to run.

He turned to look, and you saw him realize what you meant. “That is a small bed.”

“Yup.” You responded slipping off your shoes, any energy you would’ve had to worry about it was gone now.

“I’ll go see if there’s a cot or something. You take the bed.” Kirishima said heading for the door. “I don’t even know if I’ll fit on it.”

You grabbed his arm to stop him, you didn’t want another experience with the old man up front. “We’ll just have to make us fit on it.”

He grinned and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was comforting after the long day you had. “I’ve been dying to do this all day. But you know kissing and driving isn’t safe.”

He placed a quick kiss to your lips, but you pulled him back in deepening it. You both pulled away after a minute and Kirishima let out a huge yawn.

“Let’s go to sleep, we can start over tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” He nodded moving to the bed. You weren’t sure how but Kirishima fit on it, with the perfect amount of room for you. “Looks like you get to sleep on me tonight, Y/n. How lucky.”

“I’m starting to think you maybe planned this, Kiri. You look a little too excited.” You teased and sat on the edge of the bed and he wasted no time in pulling you close to him, ignoring what you said. “You’re comfy.”

“So are you.” Kirishima grinned and tightened his arms around you. “You got your phone charging? We don’t want a repeat of tonight, not that I’m really complaining. I get to hold you all night.”

“Yup, first thing I did.” You said. His hands moved to your hair and started to play with it mindlessly. Even if he didn’t notice, it was putting you to sleep. Unknowingly you let out a soft sigh at the feeling. .

“Oh, you like that?” He asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. His arms around you were so warm even under the thin blanket. “Maybe if the bed was a little bigger we could’ve gotten even closer.” 

“Don’t tempt me” You said snuggling further into him. “You’re tired, get some rest and who knows maybe tomorrow the bed will be bigger.”

“I hope so.” He laughed and you could feel the vibrations rattling his chest. “Even though a lot of stuff went sideways today, I don’t think we could’ve planned something more perfect.”

“Me either. Now shush, pillows don’t talk.” You mumbled, barely able to fight sleep anymore. He was right though, it was a lot better than you’d been expecting after everything that happened.

“Okay, okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kiri.”

[notexactlyrocketscience]

A lot of people are doubting whether the ten-minute version of All Too Well that's out now is the actual ten-minute version Taylor initially wrote before RED came out—The main source of this suspicion are the words “Fuck the Patriarchy” being on a random keychain a decade ago, when the phrase wasn’t even popular. I’ve heard people claiming that her making a big deal of putting out the very original version is just marketing strategy, and she really wrote the extra parts in 2021.

First: while it wasn’t mainstream, the quote “Fuck the patriarchy,” did (kinda) exist at that time. It was allegedly of more niche popularity in some Tumblr headers/Etsy stores/Urban Outfitters products … so it is actually not impossible that Jake Gyllenhaal did have one.

But was it likely that he had one? Well … the lyrics are kind of pointing to the irony of being a thirty-year-old man who has feminist slogans written on his belongings, but then throwing the car keys on the ground while he’s busy being in an unflattering rage on the phone so that his twenty-year-old partner has to pick it up and then drive him around. (The short film also portrayed him dropping dishes in the sink for her to deal with as he actively gaslit her.) We’ve all met those kinds of men: drunk in status and privilege, with impeccably maintained attractive outward personalities, only to be a toxic misogynistic deep down. So yes, quite likely.

But did he really and truly own one? Or did Taylor just add that in for the shock value and novelty of having a swear word at the very beginning of the newer lyrics? (And to lure in young girls who will most definitely find the idea of shouting these words in a chorus quite appealing?) Well, we can’t know which it is, but I personally don’t really care either way—

Songwriting is a LONG process. Most songs start as ad-lib gibberish, and then a jumble of phrases that don’t rhyme very well, and then—gradually—distinct, structured verses that build in the beat and melodies. If you skim through the early ATW drafts given in the Lover album booklets, it looks nearly nothing liked the finished version(s):

Transcript:

There we are again when you blew the candle out Took this blazing love, steering it right into the ground Shaking running scared I was there

I left I walked in through the door with you The air was cold Pictures on the fireplace You're showing You showed me around

Well I left my scarf there at your sister's house On the banister, I remember even now You'll mail back my things in a box with no note Except for that scarf from that very first week—Cause Yeah you keep in it in your drawer cause it smells like me It was the one real thing you've ever felt and You remember it all too well

There we are again You're crying on the phone Realised you lost The one real thing you've ever known

So … what really counts as the original ATW? There’s no doubt that Taylor has heavily edited the initial spontaneous quarter-of-an-hour recording of the jamming session with her band in which ATW was born, to give us both the final five-minute and ten-minute versions. That’s what any good songwriter does, usually. So was there a finalized, polished (literally lost in a drawer and/or forgotten) 2012 Red era ten-minute version that we’re still deprived of? I doubt it. I am sure, though, that Taylor really and truly put heartfelt effort into doing ATW justice in the 2021 Red (TV) era.

Is this the ten-minute song that she would have come up with in 2012, had she been able to seriously work on it? The slightly folklore/evermore-esque writing implies probably not, because she has evolved as an artist—There’s really no going back from knowledge and skill from experience, is there? So if anything, this version is better. AND it tells the full story that she wants us to know. She didn’t have to, but she deep-dived into and relived her memories from a decade ago, just to finished it for us; because we hoped and prayed and asked for it for years after we first heard the slightest wind of it, and it’s beautiful and honestly, I could not ask for more.

So, going forward, there’s no question of it: This IS All Too Well. The standard version, as Taylor herself likes to say. And it couldn’t be more perfect.🧣

I think this version is THE version of the song that was meant to be heard.