#basically idk what to do with myself if drawings off the table lmao

[tosye]

art-related rant incoming, if you read this I love u and if you have some advice I love u even more

I’m at this weird (annoying really) point in my drawing skill where I’m either good at bodies or faces, not both at the same time and it’s so frustrating and idk what the case is all I can think of is that I’ve trained my eye a lot and not my hand and so I can catch more errors than before and observe things better and kinda understand and conceptualise them but not like put it into practice in a confident and timely manner?? like I will draw a face hell if I’m struggling with it I’ll construct it but like it’s so frustrating bc it’s taking me forever?? I’ve been wanting to do themed sketch sheets and basically like 10 half bodies took me 2 hours and it went rather smoothly but then I’ve been struggling with the faces (and mind you I only have 5 to draw since half of them is just din in the helmet and I’m already done with those lmao) for additional 5 hours already and I’m not even halfway done????? like what the fuck is going on and idk if I should kinda focus on simplifying features but I kinda don’t want to do that??

and i mean I know it’s my neurotic perfectionism peeking through but like my latest piece took me 5 hours total to make and I’d say it’s semi-realistic and now I can’t seem to draw even like 5 sketchy messy faces in under 5 hours?? and like I’ve noticed that at some point I started doing some things differently than before but in a way I’m not sure I like and so I think it’s adding to the whole thing??

and I know I’m supposed to take breaks but like hyperfixation hello?? and I know that i will inevitably be getting seemingly worse at drawing for a bit here and there and then I’ll get like enlightened and I’m gonna be even better bc yk the learning curve blahblahblah but like how much longer?? will this one last?? bc I’m kinda over it ngl

also I seem to have lost the ability to make full coloured pieces like the ones I’ve used to do but we don’t talk abt this lmao

#tosye talks #I’m really REALLY sick and tired of this slump #and like idk if it’s burnout bc I don’t feel like it is but at the same time if this is going to last #I’m very much heading straight to burnout hell #and I do not need or want that rn #also I can’t chill and have the worst work ethic possible lmao so that’s def not helping #like I’m either doing smth 24/7 or like not doing it at all for months #I think I kinda need a break but my adhd brain doesn’t like breaks from hyperfixations we need dopamine here in this house #and I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie or smth #I mean it just doesn’t hit the dopamine spot as much as it used to before I started meds #mind u I used to be such a film buff I’d watch 3 movies in a day most days of the week for the longest time #basically idk what to do with myself if drawings off the table lmao

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Life After Losing Him

Summary: Reader goes about their new daily life but soon runs into the best friend they had lost several months prior.

TW/CW: Platonic!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester (mostly Dean tbh). Classmate bullying Reader. Should College Student Reader be a warning? Bc I feel like it should lmao. Lots of swearing. Dean does the silver blade test so a wound and blade are mentioned. I don’t think there’s anything else but lmk if I should add something.

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Hello love, your writing is really good and I love how active you are on your account it’s very impressive I could never 🥰 I would be so honored if you could do a platonic imagine for me??? I had in mind like Dean going to hell and coming back and being mad at Sam because he stopped hunting and maybe being mad at reader for moving on and going to college/not trying to help Sam? Idk if that makes any sense lol”

Word Count: 1,880

A/N: So, Dean isn’t as angry as I could’ve written him to be, I didn’t really include Sam much in this one, and it’s mostly Reader going about her day in her new life. If enough of you want it, I could write a second part where Dean and Reader get home and talk to Sam or whatever. I hope this is alright. I personally really like some bits of it but as a whole it feels off to me for some reason.

Your POV

    I grabbed the car keys off my side table before heading out my bedroom door with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I stopped in the kitchen to grab the lunch I had packed the previous evening and a thermos of coffee before heading out for another day of boring ass classes. When I enrolled at the local community college to major in folklore and mythology, I thought the classes would be more interesting and it would be a piece of cake but unfortunately, I got stuck with a boring professor who obviously didn’t even want to be teaching the class in the first place. I push the garage doors open before making my way over to the car. I open the door and drop down into the driver’s seat, set my thermos in the cupholder near my feet, and toss my backpack and lunchbox into the passenger seat. After closing the door, I sigh as I place my hands on the steering wheel, “Alright, Baby. Another day without him but I know you’ve still got my back.” I reach over and pat the dash before cranking the ignition and pulling out of the garage to head for school. The ride to school is quiet aside from the classic rock drifting softly through the speakers.  

    I manage to find a decent parking spot within walking distance of my class but have to mentally prepare myself before grabbing my coffee and backpack and stepping out of the car. I lock the doors, shut mine, and head towards class. On autopilot, I find the classroom that I need and take my usual seat near the front against a wall and turn my back to the wall as I always do. Aside from a few who like to get here early for the same reason I do, to get our favorite seats, the majority of the class hasn’t arrived yet so I pull out my notebook, pen, and coffee. I avoid all eye contact with the others in the room and label my notebook page for today’s lecture. For the most part, people around here seem to avoid me although I haven’t decided if it’s because I intimidate them or because they think I’m “one of those backwoods crazy people” or perhaps it’s both. Regardless, it suits me fine. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a degree and do something useful with my new life. When he died, Sam and I both agreed to not try to find a way to bring him back and try to create a normal life. Every now and then, I secretly take a hunt but it’s usually nothing more than a basic salt and burn case. I did get a job at a local mechanic shop. They were practically begging me to take the job when I showed up for the interview in Baby.

    I’m pulled from my thoughts as a loud group of guys enter the room. I try to ignore them but as per usual their little pack leader wants to try to ruin my day. He calls out to me but thankfully before he can start something, the instructor enters and tells him to have a seat. I’ll have to give this instructor points for at least not putting up with any bullshit like that in his class. Anyway, the rest of the class joins shortly and takes their seats and, on the dot, as always, the instructor starts his lecture. A miserable hour and a half later I have several pages of notes, most of which are completely false from a hunter’s perspective, about topics I already know the truth about just so I know what the instructor will expect on the test. The instructor dismisses us so I pack away all my things and head back to the car to eat lunch before my next class.

    I’m about halfway back to the car, which is completely hidden by a huge, jacked up, 4x4 pickup truck, when the loud group of guys catches up to me and their leader calls out again, "Hey, nerd! Why don’t you stop for a second? I didn’t get a chance to take notes in class and I want to get pictures of yours.”

    I ignore him and keep my head down as I mumble under my breath, “yeah because you were sleeping,” and continue to the car. As I come around the back end of the pickup and approach the car, I slam into something, or rather someone, sturdy and nearly get knocked on my ass if it weren’t for the person catching me. Out of instinct I go to grab my dagger out of its sheath under my sleeve but the person grabs my hand, “Don’t pull that thing out here. It’s just me.” Hearing that voice causes pure shock mixed with a touch of suspicion to wash over me. I look up and into the face of my formerly, dearly departed best friend, Dean Winchester. However, before I can ask questions or even test to make sure it’s him, the small group of my classmates rounds the end of the pickup truck causing Dean to push me behind him in a protective way.  

    The pack leader grins mischievously, “Who’s this? You know this guy, nerd?”

    I roll my eyes but Dean speaks up for me, “I’m (Y/n)’s brother you little bitch. Now, fuck off and leave her alone.” In all honesty, Dean wasn’t biologically my brother but he and Sam have been the closest thing to having any siblings in general that I’ve ever gotten.  

    The pack leader looks around Dean at me, “This true?” I nod. He laughs, “Well, I don’t know which of you are driving this piece of junk but you should probably get with the times and stop driving this old rust bucket. Maybe you could upgrade to a nice truck like mine here,” he taunts patting the truck parked beside us.

    “Your attention seeking, overcompensating piece of shit on wheels could never handle the things this car has been through,” Dean argues, stepping forward. I grab his arm and tug in attempts to get him to back down, no luck.

    The guy scoffs, “Yeah right. I bet if your little friend behind you there hit a curb it’d tear this car to pieces.”

    Before Dean can get into a fist fight, I unlock the car door and shove him in before climbing in myself. Unfortunately, the asshole doesn’t get the hint that I’m leaving and leans back against Baby. I check the mirrors to make sure that I’m not going to run anyone over before driving forward out of my spot, mentally thanking whoever didn’t park there or had just pulled out of the spot in front of me, causing the pack leader to fall on his ass. I laugh to myself as I watch in the rearview mirror and then take off. I find a secluded spot on campus to park so that I can test Dean, figure out what the hell happened with him, and eat my lunch before my next class in four hours. When I put the car in park, and look over, he’s already rolled his sleeve up and has a silver blade ready for the test. He presses the blade into his arm right above another wound that looks fresh.  

    “I figure if Sam wanted all the tests done then you definitely will,” he grumbles before wrapping his arm having sufficiently proven he’s not allergic to the silver. I grab the bottle of holy water that I keep in my backpack and hand it to him. He takes a sip of it before handing it back to me. I nod in understanding before grabbing my lunchbox to eat.

    Once I’ve opened my sandwich, I take a bite, chew, and swallow before asking, “What happened this time?”

    “I don’t know, Sam’s working on that now,” he pauses, watching me, “I’d like to know what the hell happened to you.”

    “There it is again. You never call him Sam but that’s twice in just the past few minutes,” I muse, avoiding his question, “I guess you’re pissed at him because he stopped hunting?”

    “Yeah, and it seems to me like you did too so why don’t you answer my question?” he replies.

    I sigh, and toss my sandwich back onto the paper towel in my lap, “After we lost you, Sam and I agreed to not go looking for a way to bring you back and to start living a normal life. Granted, I always mentally thanked him for phrasing it that way because that meant if a way to bring you back fell into my lap then I could take the opportunity. Regardless, I got a job at a mechanic shop nearby and started classes here for a degree in folklore and mythology.”

    He scoffs and whips his head around to look out the windshield, “So you stopped hunting too. What the hell is wrong with you two?”

    “The two of us didn’t stop hunting. He did,” I snap back, “He doesn’t know it but I go on hunts every now and then when the apple pie life gets too boring.”

    “What about that asshole back there? Why do you let him bully you?” he asks, nodding his head toward where we had come from earlier.

    “He’s always trying to pick on me but I ignore him for the most part and keep my dagger in my sleeve just in case. The less attention I draw to myself the better.” I answer.

    “You’re really balancing all this? Like, you go to class and study for exams and shit but then every now and then you go hunting during the weekend?” he asks and I nod. “So, what about Sammy?”

    “He got a job, even been on a few dates but like I said, he stopped hunting, as far as I know anyway,” I respond. My phone dings before either of us could say anything else so I pick it up to check it and find that my instructor for my other class for today has sent out a message to cancel it for today. I toss the phone down onto the seat between us and stuff my sandwich and everything else I had pulled out back into my lunchbox before putting the car in drive and backing out of this spot.

    “What are you doing?” he questions, once again. I swear if he doesn’t knock it off with the questions, I’m going to roundhouse his ass.

    “Going home. My other class for today was cancelled,” I answer shortly.

    He’s quiet until we get to the campus entrance, “Can we- uh- Can we stop and get a burger on the way?” I nod as I laugh at him. This is probably going to be weird to adapt to but we’ll figure it out. The three of us always figure things out. Honestly, if this turns into something bigger, as it usually does, then wouldn’t mind quitting school. Turns out it’s not all it’s cracked up to be and definitely not for me. I just hope Dean won’t sulk too long about how Sam and I handled life after losing him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii @akshi8278 @deandaydreaming @castiels-majestic-wings​ @desimarie12​

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester oneshots #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam wimchester imagine #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester oneshots #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural oneshot #supernatural oneshots

[ddaenggtan]

forever rain | knj | m

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

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

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

word count | 18.8k | cross posted to ao3

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

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

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

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

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

And then the couple moved in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, yeah, because it is."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just want to feel the rain again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Face book, Park Jihyo, best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. Am nice. I think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's the little things.

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

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

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

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

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

That's where you leave to?

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

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

Fun is what you spell on your sheet.

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

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

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

A while. Years. I think .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It rattles a little and you look away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not this time.

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

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

It's invigorating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Clearly I can feel it, Casper."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You aren't sure you want to know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't know if you want him to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Warm me up?” 

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

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

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

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

“Casper, are you ever scared?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever seen a light?” 

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

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

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

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

Once, you tell him. Just once.

“Why didn’t you go to it?” 

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

Because I love you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?!” You demand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so you regret it all then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But that was-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#namjoon fanfiction #rm fanfiction #bts fanfiction #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #rm smut #reader insert #rm angst #rm x reader #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #bts fanfic #love yourself collab #ghost reader #clumsy namjoon #unspecified gender reader #bts angst #major character death #fic: forever rain #ddaenggtan

[wereallsaloonaticshere]

I love having characters discuss media they like / characterization-through-fandom so maybe have A Boy of choice discuss their favorite movie and everyone else reacts?

Okay so this isn’t very good, but I guess I like how I wrote Eduardo. Basically teenage Eduardo, Jon and Mark lowkey larp as their old west ancestors, Eduardo Juan and Marco, while waiting at a park for Edd Tom and Matt to come larping as their respective ancestors, Edward Thompson and Matthew.

Critique is welcomed but idk why you’d wanna do that with this piece lmao.

Word count: roughly 1,400. 

~

“Barbie and the Diamond Castle,” Juan said, biting into his very authentically old west McDonald’s Mcdouble. 

Eduardo’s laughs quickly turned to wheezing coughs. “God, Jon, what’re you, my niece?” 

“Who?” Juan looked at him expectedly.

“Fine, Juan.” Eduardo said, “why’d you choose the most feminine movie out there? Not enough reasons to not have sex with you yet?”

“I just really like it, okay?” Juan said, “the animation’s really cute, the songs are nice, and I watched it at least once a month until I was seven.” 

“Jesus you’re gayer than me.” Marco said.

“Haha, I think my parents are still waiting for me to come out,” Juan laughed.

“What’s your favorite scene from the movie?”

“I’m sorry are we seriously talking about fucking Barbie movies now?” Eduardo said, “this is supposed to be a stake out.”

“We had to listen to you play Mindless Self Indulgence the entire car ride here, so shut your mouth.” 

“What are you talking about? I had my earbuds in.”

“You were blasting it.”

“Oh, that’s why your mother kept looking at me weird through the front view mirror.” Eduardo said, “that sucks.”

“It’s okay, I think she’s come to terms with the fact that I’m friends with exclusively delinquents.”

“Hey!” 

“Just kidding, just kidding.”

“That’s mean, Mark. O. M-Marco.”

“Hypocrite.” Eduardo said.

“Anyways,” Marco rolled his eyes, “what about Barbie and her castle and your obsession with them both?”

“I don’t like it anymore! Just when I was a kid,” Juan said. “And it wasn’t her castle, they were actually really poor, they just had to travel to the castle to save a girl trapped in a mirror and the concept of music.” 

“...Huh?” Eduardo said.

“I don’t remember the plot very well, but I think that’s about it.”

“Huh. Sounds like something my niece would actually like.” Eduardo said, “they wear dresses in those movies, right?”

“Yeah of course, it’s Disney.”

“Can you text me a picture of the main girl? I’ll draw her in the dress and give it to her on her birthday.” 

“Aw, how sweet! Sure.” Juan, the infamous old west bandit, got out his phone and texted Eduardo the main girls.

“When are Edd, Tom and Matt supposed to come, anyways?” Marco asked, “my mom’s picking us up in a couple of hours.”

“Shut up Mark, they’ll be here,” Eduardo said, looking out across the grass and duck pond. 

“How do you know?” Juan asked, collecting the group's trash to throw away. “You said Edd has bad handwriting, maybe you read it wrong.”

“I didn’t read it wrong! Trust me, they’ll be here. They’re fuckin’ nerds and their ancestors were these cool action hero guys, of course they’ll wanna larp as them!”

“I thought you said they weren’t cool at all?” Juan asked, “and that their ancestors were gay or something?” 

“Of course they’re not actually cool!” Eduardo said, “but they sure thought they were, so I’m just explaining their train of thought.”

“Couldn’t we just larp as our ancestors?” Juan asked, “it would be fun, and a lot less stressful.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Marco asked, tugging at his cheap brown bandanna Juan had found at Walmart the day before.

“I mean, I guess, but it’s not really authentic if we keep talking about Barbie and cars.”

“Then stop talking about fucking Barbie, problem solved,” Eduardo said. “Now make use of that second pair of binoculars, I think I see their car.” 

“Fine.”

“...I wonder if Marco was gay.” Marco said, watching the ducks sleep.

“What d'ya mean?” Eduardo asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Obviously I know there were quite a few gay people in the old west, it’s just funny to think about. How different of a life he would’ve led.”

“I found a photo of him kissing a guy on google.” Juan said, getting out his phone to find it again.

“Really?” Eduardo turned to face him, the car having driven past the parking lot. “How?”

“I remember hearing Edd talk about how that detective’s diary was really gay and thought about if that made Marco’s ancestor gay, to.” 

“Well not everyone in my ancestral line was gay, you know.”

“Yeah but the detective looked a lot like Edd, and Marco looked a lot like you, so I figured it only made sense to check. Here.” Juan handed Marco his phone. “It doesn’t say who the guy is.”

“Wait, so are you saying you think Edd’s gay?” Eduardo lit up and put his fingers together like a pyramid, “oh that’s interesting.” 

“What, are you planning on outing him to the school or something?” Marco asked. 

“No, of course not!” Eduardo said, “I just think it’d be something to bring up.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Come on, he’s bullied you for being gay before!”

“That was a year ago, and that doesn’t mean he deserves the same treatment!”

“Mark-”

“Marco.”

“-Mark,” he glared at Juan, “just drop it, okay? If they don’t show up we won’t be able to catch them being idiots, so we’ll have to find some other way to do it!”

“Why do we need to? Have you ever considered that maybe if you stopped picking fights with them they’d leave us alone?” 

“Me?! They’re the ones that pick fights with us!” Eduardo slammed his fist down on the table, making the old wood wobble, “don’t you remember when we were in English and they told the teachers we were the ones that started that knife fight, when really it was them? Or when they were throwing knives at each other, and then stashed them in my locker when they heard a teacher coming? Or when that girl got stabbed-”

“Look, I get it, they suck, but at some point we become just as bad as them.” Marco reasoned. 

“...”

An alarm went off in Marco’s pocket.

“Hey, it’s almost 7. We should be packing up.” 

Eduardo sighed, “...fine.”

Juan threw away their trash as they were walking back to the parking lot. Marco took his bandanna off and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Are you able to eat dinner at my place?” Mark asked.

“You sure your parents would want me over again?”

“What are you talking about? Of course. Why not?”

“I don’t know, I just got the impression I annoyed them last time.”

“You didn’t. So, can you come?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think to ask my parents.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah sure.” Eduardo got out his phone and texted his mom. 

“I won’t be able to come, my grandma’s over and dad’s making stew.” Juan said.

“Oh, nice.”

“Yeah, it is.”

The ducks walked out of their way as they passed.

 {i really am just writing the most boring shit rn, huh? I mean i guess its realistic.}

 “Okay I can go, she said to be home by 10.” Eduardo put his phone away.

“Excellent.”

“Your dad isn’t gonna gril me about colleges again, is he?”

“Hey, if I have to deal with it then so do you.” Mark smirked. 

“It’s just annoying to hear him talk about all these engineering colleges.” He rolled his eyes, “as if I want to drive myself insane with those classes.”

“He’s only doing it because he wants you to have a nice job.”

“...I can have a nice job as a painter too.” Eduardo said, but the bite was gone.

 {my moms getting mcdonalds i cant wait im so hungry its literally 10pm} {its 1230 now and btw i loved it}

 “It’s your choice.”

“Have you decided what college you want to attend yet, Marco-Mark?” Jon asked.

Eduardo chuckled.

“I’m not sure yet. I might become an english teacher, or a librarian.”

“Huh. Nice.” Jon said. “I kinda wanna be a photographer, but I know there isn’t a lot of 

{and then I gave up}

#eddsworld #stuff i made #fanfic #ew fanfic #eddsworld fanfiction #eduardo and his friends lowkey larp as the saloonatics guys

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #302

“heaven ain’t close in a place like this”

What color are your eyes? Grayish blue. What's your favorite type of milk? If we're talking the basics, ig 1% is fine. What would you change about your appearance if you could? Oh, hunny, you got time for an essay? What would you change about your bedroom if you could? I need to fucking finish decorating it... It's not finished by no fault but my own laziness. Are you rich or poor? We're definitely pretty poor. Are you double jointed? I don't think so. What's the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced? I once had a large infected cyst that had to be drained by applying pressure to it, and I swear to Christ I don't know how I didn't faint. They gave me morphine and multiple numbing shots, but none of that did SHIT. I'm not even embarrassed by the fact I was shrieking and sobbing and swearing because I'm pretty fucking sure any sane person would've cried out many times. I'm convinced they either didn't numb me enough for someone of my size back then, or I should've just gone under for it. I have no words for how painful it really was. Do you like shots? Uh, given that nobody LIKES getting a shot with a needle, I'm going to assume you mean like, taking shots of alcohol, in which case I've never tried, but I can almost absolutely guarantee you I'd hate them. I hate the taste of alcohol (hence why I only drink sweet and weak stuff), sooooo, I've got my doubts I'd enjoy something so potent. Are you afraid of spiders? Yes and no? Small ones don't tend to get to me, and I LOVE tarantulas. Big spiders are absolutely fascinating and I love *watching* them, but if I was surprised by a sudden spider, I'm going to probably cry out and jump/scramble away. But on a real note, respect your spiders, whether they scare you or not. They are so important to the ecosystem. See one in the house, take it outside if you can. Have you ever had an allergic reaction to something? To some earrings, yes. I have to wear ones that don't have silver in them. Do you like to read? Yeah, but not nearly as much as I did as a kid. I'm even slacking on WoF lately... Do you know what your purpose in life is? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* BITCH I WISH I KNEW What's something you would like to improve at? Not being a socially anxious catastrophe. Do you believe you have great potential? Everybody does. You just have to use it. What is the most beautiful scenery you have ever beheld? Probably the mountains when driving to Tennessee. Or New York? I really can't recall either so clearly as to have a favorite. Are you flexible? Noooot anymore. Back in my WiiFit days, I was a gotdamn snake. List a song lyric that you like. Oh Jesus, don't make me think. Uhhhhh there's so many. Flipping through artists in my head with lyrics I tend to love, there's Otep with: "hey, hey, NRA, how many kids did you kill today?". Simple, but spine-chilling to me. Huh, time to listen to it actually, lol. That song murders me with the goosebumps. Do you meditate? No; I can't. You can't tell me to "free my mind," man. It's way too hectic at all times up there. What's one place you've been to that you want to visit again? I'd love to go back to Chicago one night when I actually learn how to do nighttime urban photography. What's one place you want to go that you've never visited before? I always answer "South Africa" to questions like this, so for variety's sake, I'll say the Bahamas. But a conspiratory bitch is afraid of the Bermuda Triangle, so... lmao. What's your favorite type of tree? I like big, impressive weeping willows. How many times have you seriously injured yourself? Only two occasions I can think of immediately. Maybe there's more, but idk. Did you attend Sunday School as a child? Yeah, even though I hated it. What is the longest your hair has ever been? Maybe a little passed the small of my back? What about the shortest? (not including being a toddler or baby): How it is now and has been for a couple years: shaved short on the left side, and it transitions to a length near my chin as you go to the right. Have you ever smoked a cigarette? No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I did, and I played the flute. I'd choose the saxophone if I could go back. Who does the grocery shopping in your household? Well, it's just Mom and me, so her. If you were to donate to charity today, what would you donate to? One that focuses on ovarian cancer for Mom. What is your favorite card game and when was the last time you played it? Even though I was never great at it or knew every single rule, "Magic: The Gathering" is honestly really fun, and I loved looking at the card art. I haven't played it since I was with Jason, so at least five-six years. Would you consider yourself to be good at spelling and grammar? Yeah, but I've somehow gotten worse with time???? I question the spelling and tenses of words I write a lot. What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times): Probably like, chocolate rabbits. NOT hollow. Way to break my heart. Or gingerbread cookies. What was the last chocolate bar you ate? I think a Hershey's? It was a while ago. Who was the last person you talked to on Skype/video chat? I was in a Zoom session with multiple people for my partial hospitalization program. Have you ever dreamt about sleeping with someone other than your partner? If so, did that make you feel embarrassed? I've never had a dream like this while in a relationship. The last time you had butterflies in your stomach, what was the reason? I have no idea. Has anyone told you that they miss you recently? No. Has anyone ever asked you out or told you that they liked you, and you rejected them? Can you explain why you didn’t like, or didn’t feel attracted to that person? There was this one guy in the 4th grade who asked me if I would go out with him so much it almost became like a joke. I just... didn't like him like that. Then there's Juan; I'd just been warned that he had a bad rep by a very reliable adult, and the idea of dating him was kinda... intimidating anyway. Plus he was a smoker, which was and still is a no-no for me. What part in a movie would you love to play? The clinically insane villain or something because I feel with my history, I could channel that very well IF I actually wanted to act in the first place. What piece of furniture have you replaced the most? The couch. What’s the best part of your favorite movie? When Simba walks up Pride Rock in the rain and roars and all the lionesses join in. Chilling. What do you think is the most over-rated candy ever? Candy corn is repulsive. What was the highlight of your day? My mom was raving to one of my therapists in the PHP about my art and how badly she wants me to just get everything out there. I was smiling really big but looking down with how shy but also flattered it made me. Do you know anyone who is anorexic? I don't think so. Who has hurt you the most this year? Ha, myself. What's the last insult someone said to you? Hm. How much did your car cost? N/A What is the last picture you received on your phone of? Uhhh Mom mighta sent me a meme or Sara showed me a drawing someone made of Suriza, I think. Have you ever let someone go because you thought they deserved better? No, though I've felt that way before. Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now? I'm still not over the fact Dad was a druggie before me and my sisters, apparently. It's almost like... hurtful in some weird way? Idk exactly why, it's just something I know I feel. What do you hear right now? I have Motionless In White's cover of "Somebody Told Me" playing in another tab. Do you do anything to help the environment? I do what I can as someone who isn't financially independent and reliant on another person for transportation. I won't litter for anything (and this includes shit like letting balloons go in the air, fucking stop), I'm trying to use my metal straw always in place of plastic, and to use less plastic bags, I try to spread out the times I clean Roman's litterbox to a few days; not to the point it's disgusting or uncomfortable for him, of course, though. Three days without is pretty much max. When's the last time you did something you knew was wrong? Ha, a little while ago... I was trying to avoid eating the two last biscuits Mom made for dinner 'cuz I really gotta lay off the carbs, but Mom "joked" that "it's your birthday, you get to do whatever you want," so I kinda just said fuck it lmao. Do you think that you have a pretty smile? No, because my eyes squint badly, and I also hate my teeth. When's the last time you cried over a guy? A few days ago a little bit, actually. I was reminiscing too much and recalling some of the warmest memories. Are you scared to lose the person you fell the hardest for? I already did. Oh well. Is there someone you wouldn't mind kissing right now? Yep. Do you have any friends that actually model? No. Do you care about the last person you kissed? A fucking lot. Do they care about you? Yes. Is there someone you wish you were with right now? Yes, just because of past birthday memories. I keep hoping a "happy birthday Britt" pops up in my FB messenger, and I hate myself for it. Have you ever imagined how it would feel kissing a certain someone? I legitimately just huffed in humor, guess, lmao. What are the bad things you've heard people say about you? That I'm a martyr, going nowhere, lazy, not trying hard enough, y'know, all that good stuff. Do you flirt a lot? Definitely not. What phrase or saying do you use the most? Probably "oof" lol. What mood are you in right now? I'm doing pretty all right. Kinda dreading Miss Tobey coming over, mean as it is, but I just... don't wanna deal with her and her judgments on my birthday. But I'm looking forward to seeing my sisters, and therapy went very well. Have you ever kissed someone that was high? No. Do you have a good relationship with your mother? Yep. How many exes do you have? I only consider two exes "serious," as I've only been in two deep and long-term relationships, but if we're counting everyone who's had the label of "boyfriend" or "girlfriend," there's six. Do you want to be single or with someone? Ugh, I don't know. It's probably better I don't 'til I figure my shit out, but I really do miss the companionship a lot. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? Because I love her and I was leaving her at the airport. Does your mom think you’re a virgin? She doesn't know for the same reason I don't, really. I think she leans towards I am, but idk. Is there someone that wants you to give them a second chance? I don't know. What size bra do you wear? Uhhh I genuinely don't buy bras enough to know this exactly. C-something. Does the person you last kissed still like you? I don't know if she still like-likes me. Are your parents still together? Noooo. Was your first time good or bad? I dated an Italian, if u kno what I mean. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Which friend-turned-enemy do you miss the most? Colleen, sometimes. Have you ever used an epi pen, and it worked? I have not. What is on your top priority list for today? Make this fuckin' day for me. I'm trying to not let the depression sink in and make me feel worthless on today of all days. So I'm trying to stay in a positive headspace. Do you own any sand art in a jar? Omg, those are so cool! But no. Does the sun come in your window in the morning or at night? Not really; there's houses in the way. What was the last piece of art you created? A drawing of a meerkat with its mouth open angrily, done with colored pencils, against a black background. It's on my second dA. What time of day do you take medications? I have prescription meds for when I wake up and at bedtime. What's your newest hobby you've started? A new hobby? Huh... What are some things you wanted to do that your parents didn't let you do? They wouldn't let us stay home alone until a certain age, we had a timer on the TV at bedtime to shut off after a while, we weren't exposed to certain music or shows, no cursing... stuff like that. What YouTube channels do you recommend? This is a BAD question to ask me, 'cuz I could just about recommend channels for just about any niche. I watch soooooo many. What is your favorite day of the week? Tuesday, because it's reset day in WoW, haha. Meaning, I get to do my stupid mount farming raids again for the week. Blackhand, gimme your FUCKING clefthoof already. Ballet or cheerleading? Ballet is beautiful. What are your favorite sports to watch? Only dancing, really. Were you ever in the marching band? No. Which holiday has the best decorations, in your opinion? My contrasting aesthetics make this hard, haha. I love Christmas with all the beautiful light displays people can make, but let's not sleep on Halloween, y'all. I loooove Halloween decor, like c'mon, that's where I get shit for my room year-round, lmao. What do you want to be known for? It'd actually be kinda cool if I built up some sort of rep in the vulture culture community with my photography of roadkill. For how few shots I actually have on there and minimal interaction, my Instagram for it is doing quite well, if you consider those factors. They've gotten some pretty decent attention on dA, too. I would love for people to know why I do it though, of course: awareness and respect for the animal's life. How often do you wear make-up? Almost never nowadays. Think of the person you are jealous of...what are you jealous of them for? She's actually making a career out of her photography. Do you have art that you made in high school? Oh, plenty. Do you have trauma in your past? *clears throat* take a fuckin seat Favorite type of frosting? Chocolate. Have you ever tried cake decorating? No. One of my sisters is actually one, though! She's great at it. What clubs are you a part of? None. What was your favorite book that you had to read for school? The Outsiders. 6th grade, to be exact. Do you like to read classics, or do you usually read new arrivals? I don't prefer one over the other, honestly. Were you a big partier in college? No, I never partied. Is your college one you would recommend? My most recent one, fuck yes. They're amazing and care so deeply for their students. Would you go camping in the woods alone? Yikes, no. Would you name your kids after anyone? If I had a son and I had my way with the name, he would be named after the Most Selfless Man in the World, Damien from WKM. :'''''( Do you have any supernatural gifts? No. Are there any good churches in your town? You're asking someone who has a bad relationship with religion. Do you want an indoor or outdoor wedding? It really depends on the season and venue my spouse and I pick. Do you think you would be a good salesperson? HEEEEEEEEEEEELL NAW fam. I ain't pressuring people to buy shit.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''somebody told me'' by motionless in white

[pauleonotis]

Tag Game

I was tagged by @rockmarina, thank you! :D ❤️

Rules: Answer 10 questions, then come up with 10 more, and tag 10 people.

1. What is something you’ve created that makes you feel proud of yourself?

I once wrote a small book with a couple of short stories and drew pictures to them. The characters in it were either me, my brother, my cousin, my best friend or a friend I had in school. We all had different roles and the stories were entertaining and hilarious. (I‘m kinda sad I don’t have it anymore, I don’t know whether I gifted it my friend to then lost it or gave it my mom who then threw it away but it’s gone now unfortunately.)

2. Share a childhood memory that includes an animal!

My whole life I’ve had bunnies (tho not anymore, my last one I owned passed away in 2018). I remember being on a class trip it was kinda like a farm? They had some goats, a lot of bunnies, some stray cats and horses. We were allowed to go inside the bunny area and pet them etc. and since I had bunnies myself that was basically my favorite thing to do. One bunny in particular (that didn’t come out often) caught my attention, he didn’t have ears and one of the caretakers there told me about a child who grabbed him by the ears and basically swung him until they ripped off.

This bunny was the only one who didn’t come out often or near any humans even if we had food but I remember sitting with the bunnies alone after having an argue with the girls I shared a room with so I was kicked out by them and that bunny then took some bites of a carrot that was laying right next to me and idk but that moment made me really happy. :)

I btw didn’t try to touch him or anything, I think that would’ve just scared him off but being so close was a huge step and I‘m so proud of that little bun! ;-;

3. Warm or cold colours?

Depends, I love both but if i have to choose then I‘d say warm colors since I feel like I work with them more whenever I draw? Idk. xD

4. What is the boomer/gen Xer societal norm that you find the most unnecessary and annoying, if any? (e.g: no elbows on the table)

Uhhhh what? I gotta admit I have absolutely no clue what else there is except that example that is given. But that no elbows on the table is pretty unnecessary if you ask me- I don’t have them on the table while eating with both hands but if I just use my fork or a spoon lemme just rest my other arm on that damn table pls??? I‘m not trying to be rude, just trying to find a comfortable position thankyouverymuch.

5. Have you ever picked anything from the street and kept it?

Yes. A One Direction pendant which basically was a gold 1 and a D. Back then I didn’t know what it meant because I never really recalled the name of that group? But funnily enough during the time I found this I was listening to the song ‚Best Song Ever‘ on repeat.

6. What is one piece of media that has helped you through some rough times?

Fanfiction net and Fanfiktion de probably? Lmao idk. But I remember I‘d always read fanfictions to save my day! :D Or maybe youtube too, I absolutely loved to watch speedpaint videos which motivated me to draw and practice.

7. Have you ever cried in front of anyone unexpected?

Yes. My ex boyfriend.

I have to admit I‘m actually not a person that cries that easily about irl situations... idk. But basically I was at his house to stay over the weekend and he kissed me and left a lot of love bites on my neck and cleavage and the thing is I wasn’t really together with him because I loved him — when he was visiting me the first time he was just an online friend I had and he then kissed me and said I‘m his now and I agreed because all my friends during that time had a bf or were in love and I was questioning my sexuality but didn’t want to be the different one or disappoint my parents by coming out as bi or lesbian so I tried to force myself into a straight relationship. So yeah and that night when he left those love bites I realized that no, I didn’t want that. I want to figure out my sexuality and not force myself to be someone I’m not and I also don’t want to rush anything. And that’s why I started to cry.

Which was really... really awkward in that situation tho. XD

8. What would someone have to do to make you hate them?

Abuse people or animals (especially those who can’t do anything/speak up/protect themselves). I was about to add something to that but it isn’t something nice and I have to admit it probably shouldn’t be said out loud.

9. What is one forbidden smell that you love? (glue, gasoline...)

Idk what else counts as forbidden smell...? I don’t like smelling glue or gasoline lmao. But unusual smells... uhh... I have to say I kinda miss the smell of the litter that was in my bunnies cage. And the smell of the grass and dandelions (Schnuffel adored them ;-;).

10. What is something you’re passionate about?

A couple of things actually, the most obvious one would be drawing and trying to improve. But let’s see uhm... learning?

Not that boring school stuff, even tho there were many interesting things I’ve learned over the 13 years that I‘ve been to school, BUT I‘m talking about more...random things.

Idk tell me random facts, or something about your culture, about languages, tell me something about history, mythology, astronomy, let me know more about yourself, about your friends or people you look up to or people that interest you. Tell me about tricks or life hacks. How did you do that? When did you learn that? What does that mean? I definitely want to know and/or learn.

Now onto my questions (it btw was so difficult coming up with 10 questions and now I have to do it a second time- WHY ;-; xD):

1. What mythical creature do you wish actually existed?

2. How do you judge a person?

3. What are you interested in that most people that you know aren’t?

4. What‘s the funniest joke you know by heart?

5. What movie/video/picture/meme/whatever always makes you laugh no matter how often you see it?

6. Which protagonist from a book/movie would make the worst roommate?

7. And what protagonist from a book/movie would make the best roommate?

8. The last song you sang along to?

9. What was the best thing that happened to you today?

10. What are your top 3 fanfiction tropes?

Tagging: @rockmarina (>:3) @aceveria @samyistrying @triggerlil @practicefortheheart @april-thelightfury115 @drarryruinedme7 @big-draco-energy @ohheavenlylord @qmortentia (only if you want to do it of course!)

#im gonna put some tws just in case- #tw animal harm #tw animal cruelty #tw animal violence #abuse mention

[unproduciblesmackdown]

The opposite of your last post for the ask meme! Like 1, 5, 9..

thank you lol sorry it took me a minute to get to posting these answers......i also skipped a couple that got asked previously via answering all primes lol

1: What inspires you?

hm well just basic stuff like “being in a good mood” lol or “being hyped up by friends” or “having reason to be particularly excited about something” which is all like, factors that Contribute Energy......learning about stuff / trying something and discovering like oh i’m Into this thing, or that for whatever reason something turns out to be more within reach / doable than i might’ve thought, like, hey i wanna get on this maybe.......~creatively~ it’s great to like, see other ppl’s art, and while i’ve sure been Inspired by professional artists, overall i’m more like, influenced and motivated by seeing the styles / specific works of Online Randos like me.......i also Draw to create [self-indulgent (usually fairly) niche fanart which is also probably gay and is all the time of characters i like] so like, the Stuff I Wanna Make Fanart Of (which has Whatever characters i specifically would like to draw lol) is sure directly Inspiring in that way. i’d say i never had that experience of like, ppl being kids and seeing some [distributed work in a certain art medium] like oh i want to make my own [distributed work in a certain art medium] as in like, i wanna publish a book, i wanna make movies, etc, but i guess i Did b/c i was like elementary school age in the early-to-mid 00s and experienced some instances of online fanart like :o :o wow damn ppl can do that?? just be a rando drawing fanart and sharing it w/ other people online???? and today i am living that dream, so good for me lol. and also i’d like to shoutout marge simpson anime, which is a particular piece of Online Art (technically fanart even lol) which was like, unusually Motivating as a single work of art lol, i made a notes app fanart like immediately and then a way more “painterly” piece of fanart that was v directly inspired by it lol.......and i was sure Drawing It Up last last winter when bmc 3.0 was impending / happening, b/c i got into like Just in the dec before, so that was Fresh, and then bam the Content is happening concurrently and as soon as we even just learned that jeremy has glasses i immediately spent like honestly 25 consecutive hours making fanart for that exact Inspiration. we didn’t even know abt the hello kitty shoes yet!!! and naturally im not out here for stats or clout but it is Inspiring when ppl enjoy the stuff i make and let me know one way or another. [tag comments that express enthusiasm in any way.....Appreciated]

9: Do you trust people easily, or do people have to earn your trust?

i have to say i am wary! that’s in part just like, a default anxiety defensive mode lol. but it takes me a hot minute (aka weeks....or months.....) to realize when someone like, would like to be friends or something, so while i can be Friendly and Outgoing w/ people like, immediately, i’m not picking up relationships left and right that are close enough that i’d particularly talk about “trust” or whatever. i’m not necessarily Distrustful either lol, it’s more just like, again re: the constant wariness thing. it is not unlike a cat lmao i vibe with them lol i Get that [approach]....and there’s been times i’ve been like “hmm i sure do Not vibe with this person ever and am not comfortable around them / interacting with them to any extent beyond occasional casual interactions that i don’t super enjoy. that’s me being overly anxious and failing to be personable i guess!!” and then that person Does give that reason down the line like oh, actually, that eternal uneasiness was warranted :/ damb

21: How does someone become friends with you?

yknow i was like “didn’t i Also answer this one previously” but it turned out the question i was thinking of, which i Had answered, was “how does someone become important to you” lmao.....same diff

tbh it’s kind of an arduous process lmao like. first of all i am Bad about initiating shit, and a lot of times will like, be wary of Directly Interacting with people for a while b/c i am also Bad At not being too passive / unwilling to assert anything so like, if someone’s regularly interacting with me but i’m not into it / Eventually Realize i’m not into it, it’s that thing again where my main strat is [v gradually sidle away] lol and just find it difficult to extricate myself from interactions / relationships and so that plays into me really feeling like i have to have some real confidence that i’d get on with / vibe with someone Before i start significantly interacting with / getting involved with them which....is also difficult natch lol like. can’t rly get a great feel for what someone’s like w/o talking to them.......but then if i Distance myself at all at any point will that be taken as rejection or whatever.......and then anyways say i Am talking to someone, then it’s like, also i’m just not fantastic at casual conversation always and that stage where you don’t know someone too well and talking is mostly a Polite Ritual and it’s like oh god don’t mess up, respond Normally lmaoo......i am nervous. and i also have a tendency to just naturally try to make an interaction go smoothly than immediately prioritize / feel comfortable busting out My Personality lmao.....so then even if ppl are responding well enough it’s like ah jeez i know we’re all performing always but have i shown them What I’m Actually Like to any significant degree, am i just masking it up / mirroring the crap out of how they talk?? and also it then takes me quite a while to put together “if someone keeps talking to you / choosing to interact with you for like, weeks, it probably means they want to / are interested in doing so” lol.........and then i’ll take ages more of trying to consciously Be More Myself without *also* feeling like this is too much of an act lol, and gradually picking up like oh they’re still not like, annoyed or disinterested or something..............what i am trying to say is it sure takes a minute lol

also when i Am attempting sometimes to like [initiate interaction] with people my version of being Active is still not all that active lmao i will be like [occasional Like] or [even more occasional reply] or [tag comments or no comments coz it’s twitter and im rt-ing stuff] and it’s like oh wow if we’re not having more regular interaction i suppose i’ve failed or something?? does this mean anything further lol, did i do anything.....but welp gotta have that perspective that Not Necessarily lol and i’m not the only person in the world who might not make friends or even friendly acquaintances easily / at the drop of a hat and u can’t necessarily read way into shit that hasn’t Actually been communicated to you.......naturally though it is easier to have some ~perspective~ and Serenity about all this sort of thing when you do already have some Friends lmao........been feeling (and consciously nudging myself towards feeling) More Chill about say like, friendly acquaintances i have who aren’t raring to interact with me on the reg.......ppl i’ll go months or half a year or more between having a convo with and then we’ll be like trading dm’s for a couple days and then it’s back to not really talking, and that Is What It Is, not necessarily a tragedy, and really it feels “rude” to acknowledge to myself like oh i’m not sure that me and whomever even Vibe well enough that *i’d* be raring to talk all the time either, but hey, it’s also true, i don’t have to be Validated by ppl who know me having me in their friend circles in any significant way......i be out here on the peripheral / outer orbits and i can appreciate that for what it is, even if, again, easier to be more Cool with that when i’m not Only in ppl’s periphery...........i appreciate the pal i have who like, 99% of how we Communicate is occasionally sending each other pics of our cats, not very intimate but also back when i was offline for months on end they eventually went out of their way to find someone to get in touch with to verify i hadn’t like died or anything lol........i appreciate the Gestures of Caring that ppl have and do extend, even if we do not actually talk regularly. 

and like also i’m bad at like. idk the main way i talk is again, At Some Length and often about real specific shit lol so im like woop aware that many ppl are not into that, or they might be down for having an exchange like that for a day and then they’re done.........not at all like wholly Against more lol Conversational conversations but i gotta say that’s more of a struggle lmao..........so let’s say befriending me takes some Patience. i kinda operate on [cat] rules. jellicle

25: How do you stop yourself from going back to toxic people?

i absolutely am Refraining from launching off on a ted talk of a tangent that is also me being the [the guy about to throw down a card on the pile on the table and that card pile is like “any conversation” and the guy is labeled “me” and the One Card about to be played is labeled “it’s capitalism” or smthing like that and also it’s all in spanish].jpg.......

anyways idk just try to keep things in perspective, right......i generally am pretty Passive about gradually sidling away from relationships that are bad and so by the time i Have exited them it’s pretty overdue lmao and i get to be quite confident that it was The Right Thing........and just when looking back on stuff it’s like, well if you remember the Good or “Not That Bad(tm)” parts maybe consciously think about the whole of it And specifically the Bad parts / the reasons for peacing out.......also the other day i was mulling over some standard [conflicted / complicated feelings about having cut certain ppl out entirely] and it also occurred to me that a lot of the [conflicted] feeling part came from sympathy for them, whereas from the perspective of Entirely My Own Feelings On The Matter minus that “how do/would they feel about it” consideration, the thought of never interacting w/ these ppl is like. fine with me lol........stuff like this is always Complicated and Individual and there’s certainly no like, one-stop simple Guide To Navigating All This Kind Of Thing, Cmon It’s Easy........another consideration i saw the other day via a graphic on twitter, which is probably most relevant re: say, controlling / abusive Partners, was how like, to think about how someone is acting if they’re saying you should Take Them Back b/c they’ve Changed their behavior, but to pay attention to if they’re trying to guilt you into it / justifying or downplaying their previous behavior / shifting blame and otherwise manifesting the inherently harmful and controlling patterns that are supposed to be gone now........anyways yeah complicated stuff and also just p.s. (and what would’ve been the jumping off point for the It’s-Capitalism tangential essay lol) ppl shouldn’t be blamed if they do choose to let someone back in their life like oh now they’re responsible for bringing their mistreatment upon themself.....no better than blaming someone for, say, having a harmful / controlling romantic partner in the first place like oh well they should’ve known better than to have gotten involved with this person..........ppl are in control of their own abusive behavior and shouldn’t be considered Forces Of Nature no matter how intransigent they are

33: Do you have someone you know you can always rely on?

tbt question 9 lol there’s defo some people that i do trust! love it....

45: Do you consider yourself creative?

another #tbt to question 1 lol.......i mean Yes i am creative in ways but like, who Isn’t, really.......think sometimes “creativity” means “do you like, do Art things” which, yes i do, but then within that there’s art that’s deemed more ~creative~ or w/e......not to mention that i don’t think something has to be definitively labeled an Art to be creative. like, for example, Science and Art aren’t opposites / the antithesis of each other, and anytime defines ~science~ as like, people just memorizing and outputting Facts and Numbers and considers this a distinction from Being An Artist.....wild and i Will fight you lmao. i tell you i can v much remember times i have had to completely disengage to keep from losing my cool at people arguing about “why i respect science but could only be an artist :’|” or “why Art is actually harder than Science and also we’re the underdogs b/c society values science so much more :’|” like.....mf...........anyways scientific pursuits may certainly have a different Methodology (see: scientific method) than art but lbr it still requires creativity and science and art are friends you fucking fools................and then also just zooming in on the Art-Making business here, i also like, have never had any interest in coming up with Original stories / characters and the like, and i don’t enjoy trying and it just really is not my thing, and it’s Funny or something when people wanna say that creative fanworks have value b/c they let ppl cut their teeth for what really matters, inevitably making their own original content(tm)......that isn’t inevitable for me lol and certainly is nothing i aim to do ever, and when there’s the suggestion that if you’re Good enough at ur medium you gotta manifest some of that original the character do not steal shit.........anyways i’m not pressed to claim i am an Artist(tm) or Creative(tm) lol like i guess technically i am both but i have no professional aspirations and my brain does not Do [generate original content] so it’s all like, i’m just out here.........s/o to this time i was trying to do my fuckin thing drawing on a tablet in a cafe and some random annoying guy is trying to talk and i happen to mention like “lol i don’t exactly call myself an artist really” and Guy goes “OH REALLY??? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ARTISTS? WHAT’S YOUR ISSUE WITH ART” like please cool it lmao but god p sure it was a guy who was just. very Around and very annoying in general

49: Do you feel like you’re a good person?

yeah i think i’m alright but really what is the use in like considering there 2 be achievable Good or Bad Person Statuses for everyone........let’s say it’s an ongoing, active state to be in the process of consciously choosing to be Good and working towards Better. especially considering that We Live In A Society which tries to teach everyone and continuously imbues our existence with Bad Messages about how to perceive and engage with other people, and being A Good Person is a lifelong effort and it’s unhelpful to feel that if you’re already Good or well-intentioned enough you can just dust off your hands and be like “well my work here is done” and be unprepared to examine your beliefs/actions or deal with the might-as-well-assume-it’s-an-inevitability that even if u have some noble-ass beliefs you’ll fail to live up to them at some point/s.......so like yeah lol again i feel like i am a pretty good person but can always be better and ought to be aware of / willing to work on that at any point

[sparklebitch]

Dan and Phil’s Impact

Okay this is going to be long and rambling because I’m trying to type it on my phone in the car and my thoughts are all over the freaking place and I don’t blame you if you don’t want to read the whole thing I’ll put a tldr at the end lmao.

So first of all I’ve been watching Dan and Phil since like? 2014~ And for a while there wasn’t a minute that went by where I didn’t think about them. Their videos got me through so much shit in my life. Even dumb video game videos were like my reprieve from real life. And yeah a lot of stuff was super cringy and I was definitely borderline one of those creepy people that wanted to know everything about their lives (obvs not anymore lol) but that aside they were such good freaking influences on me? I looked up to them so much and, sure, I have a lot of role-model-worthy people in my life, but no one like them.

Everyone around me is so aggressively religious (although a lot of them are totally cool about it and not bad peoples !! But the rest of them are total dicks) and I felt like I couldn’t... question myself I guess? About literally anything. I felt like I couldn’t question religion, sexuality, the things I liked, what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be. It was like everyone’s lives revolved around church stuff and people were basically born knowing what they were going to do? And there I was, an awkward, sexually confused, homeschooler who had 2 friends that she wasn’t even that close to. I felt like I was the only one in the world like this. Everyone seemed to have a place in the world, except me. I often thought that maybe it was a mistake that I was in this world, that there was some cosmic screw up and that I was never meant to be born. I felt incomplete and it was so confusing and horrible. I was sure that that feeling was never going to go away. I had no one to talk to, no one to explain to me that it was okay to screw up. It wasn’t the end of the world to question things or yourself, everything was going to be okay. All I wanted in my life was for someone to tell me that.

Then I found Dan and Phil. And yeah, they’re two British boys on the internet that will never know who I am. But that’s okay. They don’t need to know me to have an impact on my life. I mean, who’s ever been impacted by a song? A movie, a book, an actor, an artist? The human race is always searching for someone or something to look up to. Religion, famous people, a father figure, a friend. Someone. And that’s what they were to me.

People didn’t understand what it was that I liked about them. And, if I’m being 100% honest, I guess I didn’t really know either. Sure, they’re funny, and the chemistry between the two is very compelling but there was just something about them that spoke to me. I loved them. More than I had loved anything in my life. I looked up to them, and listened to the things they said, listened to the things they believed it. Through them I discovered so many of the things that I love in my life. I started writing and drawing because of them! It’s crazy to think that I am the person that I am today because of them. I can’t imagine what I would be like if I hadn’t watched their videos.

There’s a lot of uncertainty in my life right now as I’m finishing up getting my General Associates and I’m in the process of starting a daycare with my older sister. It’s a lot for me to process because for the longest time all I wanted to do was get away from here. I wanted to go somewhere and be someone new. And it wasn’t until recently that I realized that’s not what I actually wanted. I love my family and my friends, I love living here (aside from the bigots but they’re everywhere so there’s no escaping them). What I really, truly wanted was to be myself. It wasn’t my family and this town that I wanted to get away from, it was the me that I was pretending to be. I just wanted to be myself, that was all. I didn’t care if it was in a big town with new people, i just wanted people to know me. I wish I knew this back then, then maybe I wouldn’t have gone into a tailspin when I was getting ready for college but hindsight I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When I finished high school it was like I was paralyzed. I didn’t know how to make decisions for myself or do anything on my own. All I knew was that I was not straight, seemingly surrounded by homophobes, and I was very very tired. So, toward the end of summer my mom pushed me enrolled me at a community college near home (which I am grateful for lol) and then I was going to transfer to a university after 2 years. Things started to feel better after that. Around that time I also started taking medication for depression and anxiety and it has only completely changed my life. No longer am I the super quiet painfully awkward person who’s so afraid to say something wrong that she instead stays silent, not telling anyone about my interests or passions in fear that I would be ridiculed, hiding core parts of me while the whole world passes by. I was talking and making jokes, I wasn’t constantly terrified to talk to people or to even simply leave my house to go places. Things were better. I was happier!

But as the time for me to transfer to a university drew near that paralyzing feeling crept back into my skin. I hated my classes. I hated college. I was suddenly plunged back into the world of endlessly scrolling through social media and watching the same shows on tv over and over, isolating myself from everyone and everything trying to ignore the world around me. I felt like everything was hopeless again. I was only occasionally watching dan and Phil videos at this time, having very reluctantly grown away from them (it was a sad day when I realized that I didn’t care if I skipped a video or two. I literally cried that day). But I was bored then, so I started watching their videos again. This was around the time that dan posted his video on depression (that’s a while other long ass post I could make but probably won’t because I’m already tired of typing) and i damn near called my mom (even though she was just downstairs) on the spot to tell her what I was feeling. Hearing that there was someone else out there that felt like I was was enough. But not only that, he explained that recovery is not a straight road. There are twists and turns, there are setbacks. It’s not like I was going to get better and everything was going to magically be awesome all the time. Some stuff was going to suck. I was going to go through shitty times and that was okay.

Because of him, I ended up going back to the doctor and explaining that my meds weren’t working anymore, and I got it taken care of. I feel so much fucking better now than I did before, and I know that it’s okay if I don’t always feel this way. I told my parents that I didn’t want to go to a university and they were okay with it, provided that I finished my 2 year degree at the community college. And while some things still suck, and I’m still worried about my future and whether or not I’m going to meet someone and fall in love, things are absolutely positively 1000% better than they have ever been. And a lot of it is thanks to them. Obviously it was me who actually took the steps I needed to to get here, but it was because of their being my role model that I had the courage to get where I am today.

Dan and Phil have such a unique platform and following. They could say jump and so many people would (metaphorically ofc) jump off the cliff, me included. But they don’t do that. They use their fame to positively impact people. They use their platform to encourage people and talk about important things in life. They share things about their lives in the hopes that it will help even 1 person out there... and I’m not the only one who they’ve positively impacted. The number of people that owe everything to them is crazy.

Okay so now I’m going to go a little bit into labels. (Not too much tho I’m seriously tired of typing lol). Dan talked about them a lot in his video. An entire freaking chapter of it was dedicated to labels. When I was younger I knew that I liked girls. I liked boys too though, so I just shrugged it off as Really wanting to be friends with girls. I didn’t know what the word gay meant until I was like 12 because I was a very sheltered child. My parents never talked about it and the only time I ever remember hearing the word before then was when one of my siblings called another sibling “gay” at the dinner table. The only thing I knew about the word was that my parents Did Not Like it. While I eventually stumbled onto the internet and learned a Lot of things, and a lot about labels, I became overwhelmed. There were so many words with so many meanings, and lot of times people didn’t agree on what the literal definition was. (Like bisexual meaning Only men+women vs. just like.. more than just 2+ genders) So for a long time I identified as pansexual because.. I didn’t know what to do. And based on my experiences on the internet, being bi was basically saying that you were excluding people. Idk it was fucked. The label ‘pan’ didn’t really feel like it fit me either, but it worked for the time being.

Dan’s comments on labels really got me thinking. I don’t think I’m a lesbian, but I don’t really know about bisexual either. When he said that he loved to use the word queer it just.. fucking hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks. I literally couldn’t breath. And it’s not like I’ve never heard people use the word queer. Tons of people identify as queer. But it was just something about the way he explained it? And maybe it was just the fact that it was him explaining it because, as I said before, I look up to him. He has a huge impact on my life. Saying queer gives me comfort. It feels less... restrictive I guess, for a lack of better words. I don’t know if this will be /the/ label for me, but that’s not the point. There doesn’t have to be a label for me. I, no one, should have to be pressured into finding a label so that other people have something to call you?? Fuck labels. Fuck people who pressure you into picking one. You be you.

So, in conclusion (honestly I feel like this has all been so incoherent I apologize) I don’t want to hide forever. I don’t. I hope that some day I can have even a fraction of the courage that Dan has to tell the people that I care about who I truly am. And the first step is telling someone.

So, to everyone who sees it here, most of which probably know or don’t care,

I’m bisexual, bitch. And I use the word queer.

It took so much fucking courage for dan to post that video and I have crazy amounts of respect for that man. I’ve said it a thousand times already, but I’m going to say it again. I’m so. Fucking. Proud of him. And I know he’s probably going to get thousands of stories like this one (if he hasn’t gotten that many already) but I’m going to tag him anyway. @danielhowell , you’ve changed my life. You’ve changed millions of people’s of lives for the better. Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done.

Tldr; dnp mean everything to me, even though I’ve grown away from them, they have been and always be a big part of who I am and i am so fucking proud of Dan.

#daniel howell #dan #dan howell #dnp #danisnotonfire #lgbt #queer #bi #bisexual #personal

[alo-piss-trancy]

Hey y'all so I'm also trying to plan that fe/mslash ki/nkmeme oneshot while I catch up on omovember drafts and I could use some feedback 😥 If y'all want to offer your votes or even suggestions feel free because I LOVE this prompt but have no clue how far I wanna take it or more importantly: who tops?

The prompt is actually a crossover ship I was already planning to write myself at some point and have wanted to for ages! Yum/eko Jaba/mi (from Kakeg/urui AKA the Gambling Girlz I love to ramble about) and Cele/stia Lude/nburgh (my pretty gambler bae from the first Danga/nronpa). The theme/info given is literally just 'Wager Slave' which I'm guessing equals Temporary Sex Slave/Lost a Bet/You Owe Me type tropes. So yes this prompt was basically made for me lol and I'm hype AF to try and fill it for them! ❤

The problem is how I'd go about writing the fic's plot and any se/xual acts and their flirting dynamic literally hinges on who wins (and therefore gets to be the Master/Mistress). And I can't decide RIP

I mean the Ultimate title means they're literally THE BEST, right? (Or does it just mean one of the best for their age and therefore there can be multiples at that high skill level/they can still be beaten possibly)?

Because technically, as talented as Yu/meko is she's still been shown to lose, and is also okay with losing as long as it's a non-boring game so like... my gut kinda says she would end up being the slave and Cel/este her master (it's no sexy vampire butler Bya/kuya but... she guesses this Yu/meko chick will do).

But ALSO what character would be more fitting for K/akegurui-style nutjob freakouts upon losing than Cel/este? I mean have you seen every victim of Yu/meko's? They completely fly off the handle screaming and cussing her out and have a mental breakdown lmao, I could totally see Cel/este's persona collapsing as she goes into Obnoxious Bitch Mode (tm). And having her have to swallow her pride and get humiliated serving Yu/meko (and hating that she's totally into it, wtf why is she into this?) would be so good, especially if Yu/meko's kinda preachy and smug about drawing out Ce/leste's true self and showing her that she isn't higher than the 'commoners' and she needs to quit lying and deluding herself.

The anon didn't specify at all so idk if they have a preference on the dom c': I could have the table's turn partway thru possibly with the slave revolting/taking a bit of control but idk if that fits the kink/prompt so I'm more inclined to keep it to just. The one being a slave the whole time. You know just a simple d/s type thing.

Help me plz I need opinions. And also ao3 tag suggestions because S/ex Sl/ave actually didn't come up when I tried to search unless it had a major character name attached like one of the supe/rnatural bois. 😿

Edit: adding pics for anyone who might not know names but recognizes them lol. First is Yum/eko, 2nd is Cele/ste

#bear txt #not omo #drspoilers #dr spoilers

[tj-is-tired-blog]

RDR2 Characters as Things My Buddies Have Said

It's like the Outsiders one but with strong cowboy hoes

Cowhoes? Idk

-------------

Young Arthur: Hosea, how young do you have to be to go to jail

Young-ish Hosea: Like... 14?

Young Arthur: Dammit my time has been spoiled

-

Arthur: Hey Abigail are you done with that slushy?

Abigail: What- Why?

Arthur: John wants to melt it and dip his hands into it

Abigail: What the fuck ew no

-

Charles: This trip is absolute fucking anarchy *gets hit with a bottle*

-

Trelawney: I had a dream about colors dancing with letters

Swanson: Were you on LSD?

Swanson: Do you have any extra??

Trelawney: Actually, in the dream I was on shrooms

Swanson: *hyperventilating*

-

John: Thanos

Kieran: No, it's pronounced eggplant head

Sean: Want me to moan in a Swedish way

Javier: Okay so basically

-

Pearson: Guys I made pasta and I should force feed it to you

Javier: ThROW ME SOME NOODLES NOW

Pearson: *throws the whole bowl*

-

Arthur: Hosea more like HOEsea am I right

Hosea: Thanks let me kill myself real quick

-

Trelawney: Bonjour!

Alden: He[llo]- Hol[a]- Ni Ha[o]- bONJOUR!!

-

Dutch: *eating food*

Micah: *throws dirt into the bowl*

Dutch: oKAY WHOEVER THREW THAT IS GIVING ME 20 DOLLARS I FUCKING LIKED THAT FOOD

-

John: *falls off of horse*

Micah: If you stopped acting a clown that wouldn't have happened

John: Stop trying to speak thanks

-

Arthur: Did you have get my our drink

Dutch: Are you having a stroke

-

Arthur: Just remember, to get out of difficult situations just say 'nahh' and it'll be fine

John: 👌🏼

*like 5 years later*

Abigail: John! Jack is YOUR son! Stop denying it!

John:

Abigail:

John:

John: nahh

-

Karen in town: Can someone fuck my ass!?

Arthur: *dissapointed*

-

Micah: *fuckin' buRPS LOUDLY*

Javier: Stop that's making me horny

-

Micah, across camp: *burps again lmao*

Javier: *obnoxious moaning*

Micah: I'm gonna kill myself

-

Mary-Beth: Arthur, you need to learn to love yourself. You're a great guy. Draw yourself and appreciate it

Arthur: *draws a goblin* Look it's accurate

Mary-Beth: stOP

-

Strauss: Y'all need to stop okay

Charles: Don't speak like us. You're old. It doesn't work for you.

-

Swanson: *crushes up a breath mint and snorts it*

Swanson:

Swanson:

Swanson:

Swanson:

Swanson: MY EYES ARE MINTING

-

John: OKAY LOOK AT THESE PHOTOS AND STUDY THEM CLOSELY

Arthur: ???

John: THEY LOOK THE SAME DON'T THEY??? AM I HIGH???

Arthur: I mean they look the same one just has a widows peak-

John: Shit you right

-

John and Abigail: *walking next to each other and tolerating existing*

Micah: LOOK THAT'S SO CUTE

*later*

Micah and Sadie: *walking together trying to not fight*

John: AWE LOOK AT THEM THAT'S ADORABLE

Sadie: That's gay you can't do that

John: Wait-

-

Sean: I'll steal 2 packs of gum if you get me chips

Kieran: Yeah okay sure 👍🏼

-

Swanson: I take all the drugs

Strauss: That's not good now is it

-

Sean: *puts notebook on top shelf*

Javier: yOU CAN'T DO THAT I'M SMALL

Sean: Yeah your small in every way

Javier: Did you call my dick small

Sean: Uh-

Javier: Cuz that's kinda gay

-

Lenny: *furiously banging an apple on the table*

Tilly: Hey you should stop

Lenny: No it's fine

Tilly: Okay

-

John: *microwaves a metal bowl*

Susan: WAIT NO STOP THAT'S METAL

John: *maniacal laughter*

-

Trelawney shaking his top hat around: Spare change?

Arthur: *puts a penny into the hat* Buy yourself something nice

-

Bill: Guys when you're done buying your food give your change to Uncle he's homeless

Uncle: What I'm not homeless

Bill: Not yet

-

Bill: *chugs beer*

Bill:

Bill: *starts choking*

-

Javier: Who wants the rest of my soda?

Bill and Micah: ME

Javier: Put your hands out bitches I ain't gay

Bill: How's it gay?-

Micah: Indirect kiss

Bill: Woah that's gay

-

Javier walking over to the girls tent: Shut up hoes I got drama

-

Mary-Beth: *drops napkin*

Susan: PICK IT UP THAT'S LITTERING

Mary-Beth: *runs*

-

Sadie: Micah has a small dick

Kieran: And you know that how?

Sadie: Say that again and I'll cut you

-------------

I would 100% add more but this post is getting long lmao

Also SCHOOL'S OUT I FORGOT!! I can post more now lmao

[galoismyhimbo]

New Oc (This gonna be long and messy im sorry)

Name: Samantha “Sam/Sammy” Coleman

Birthday: November 6th, 1988 (Age 30)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 5′8

Occupation: Peggie (later defected), demolition expert (and melee fighter if that counts lmao)

Backstory(pre-cult): Sam was born in the small town of Belfield, North Dakota; she never knew her father and her mother worked constantly. So, Sam had to watch over her younger sister from ages 5 to 17. She lived in poverty, her mother barely making it check by check. Because of this, they wouldn’t have food for days sometimes; which led her to stealing from stores. Sam was always a rebellious child so these things came naturally to her, usually being able to lie her way out of being caught. She would steal candy and small snacks from the corner gas station after school on Friday’s for her and her sister, never seeming to get caught by the man who owned the place. That or he never cared to stop her, either way she always looked forward to it. Sam drank a lot in her teens, stealing it from her mother or even from stores, sitting up on her roof and just relaxing. She liked the peace and quiet of her town, she won’t lie; it was nice at night. She would listen to the crickets chirp with her little sister, watch storms that went through, and even snuck outside to play in the snow every winter. Her sister was dear to her. Sam was genuinely nice to her sister but was very confrontational to everyone else, which led her to many fights throughout her school life; even getting into some outside of school. And as much as she loved to fight, she was getting tired of it; tired of the school, tired of the other kids there, tired of her family. She just wanted to start a new life by herself. And so she decided to run away as soon as she got out of juvie (she ended up in there after beating the holy hell out of another kid during a fight. She was there from age 16 to 17). The moment she was released she went home, grabbed any food and clothing she could, stuffed it into her backpack and stole her mothers car; picking a direction and driving West. The car eventually breaks down in some part of Montana, so, she takes the bus from then on. She didn’t know where it would take her nor did she really care. She eventually got off the bus in Hope County. She would lie and say she wasn’t scared but she was, she was in an unfamiliar place at night and it didn’t feel right. But nevertheless, she started walking towards some lights in the distance, eventually arriving in Fall’s End. She slept inside the church that night since she had no where else to go; she woke up the next day to a man standing over her with a concerned look. She later learned his name was Jerome and he took her in for awhile. Sam was nice to him, but only because she needed a place to sleep; she didn’t care for him in all honesty (that changes in the future). 

(Cult) little note: Idk when Eden’s Gate actually arrived in Hope County so just, forgive me and my dates if they completely wrong.

Sam arrived in Hope County around 2005 and by then things were pretty normal in the County. Sam helped around in the bar for a bit to make some money, and because she could steal some beer. But about 3 years later, a group showed up in the County, called Eden’s Gate that was led by a man named Joseph Seed. She didn’t pay much attention to him or the group, nor did anyone else really. It wasn’t until she heard rumors of people being forced to join the group, and that the group was acquiring land and weapons over years, that she became interested. She just wanted to see if these rumors were true, and it wouldn’t hurt to see just ONE of Joseph’s sermons, right? So one day she decides to go to one of his sermons held at a nearby farm; Jerome tried to warn her not to go since most of his congregation left for Joseph and his teachings, but she didn’t listen. And so she went and listened, not believing anything he was saying, and as she glanced around, she seemed to be the only one. Everyone there was entranced by Joseph Seed and she had no idea why, his words were bullshit to her. But he seemed to hear her thoughts, constantly looking her right in the eyes as she had sat up front, that was a mistake on her part. Every time he looked at her she would feel nervous, she hasn’t felt this way before. After he was finished she got up to leave, as was everyone else, but was stopped by two people. They had that symbol on their clothing, the symbol for Eden’s Gate. She glared at them and told them to move but they didn’t, and she just got angrier. She wanted to get the Hell out of there. When she looked over her shoulder she could see Joseph, and his siblings, as he called them, looking at her. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking, but she didn’t like what was happening. She tried to go around the people blocking her way but was pushed back. All she could think was, “I fucked up”. She wasn’t allowed to leave and instead was led to a small body of water, a couple people pouring something in it. She stopped walking at the sight, trying to turn back around but was forced forward by a man. She didn’t see who it was but his grip was rough as she was basically dragged into the water, yelling at them to let go. The last thing she remembered was the man talking, another person coming up, grabbing her arm, and forcing her head under water. Whatever was in the water wore off at some point and she finally was in her right mind, but found herself in a room at a table. Joseph sitting across from her with his hands folded on the table. He talked about how he saw the pain in her eyes and how he knows she feels alone, but that she could have a family once again. She wanted to roll her eyes but stopped herself from doing so. She watched him slide a cup towards her as he spoke about being a family, but she pushed it away, saying “You don’t need to drug me. You already forced me that on me in that lake. I’ll join your group willingly; i’ll do whatever ya’ll want. Just don’t drug me.” She felt like she was having a heart attack as she said that, she didn’t know how things would turn out. But she remembers Joseph just staring at her for a good minute or two before giving a small nod, motioning her to stand as he did. Whatever she did over the next 10 years is something she’ll try to forget.

(how she eventually escaped): Sam had been a Peggie for years and its messed with her head. Yeah, she was always an angry person, picking fights with others constantly. But she just got angrier in the cult, and it was because of what the cult was doing. Building bunkers, saying the world was ending, killing innocents, making HER kill. They did things to her that fucked her up as well. Faith forcing that bliss onto her whenever Joseph thought she was “acting out”. John carving sloth, lust, and wrath onto her body. Luckily, she was never given to Jacob. She knows what he does to people. But over time she started to get on the Seed’s good side. She’s always been good at lying, and it seemed to work even on a man like Joseph, who said God spoke to. This is what eventually led her to seeing an old friend again, River. They both grew up in that small town, Sam being older than the other, she was always looked up to. Sam always hated it, she was no role model. She saw River with Joseph, and she looked scared. Sam knows she was with that group of deputies, the ones that crashed in the helicopter and were taken to each herald. Poor River was given to Joseph, and that had to be because of her gentleness. River never got into fights like Sam did as children, and Sam doubted she changed over the last few years. She knew she had to get River out, and she was glad she was close to Joseph. He would trust her enough to watch over River. And after a few weeks, that eventually happened. One of the deputies had been fucking things up for the cult, so Joseph was too preoccupied with that to watch over River. So, one night, Sam went into the room River was in and told her about the escape plan. “I know, long time no see. But i need to make this quick. You can’t stay here any longer, Joseph is going to mind fuck you like no other, ok? A person like yourself is easy prey for him, so follow me and be quiet.”

River wanted out so she blindly followed. They got outside and just started running, seeing a patrol of Peggies coming towards them. They were eventually followed after, bullets whizzing pass them as the ran. River was confused when Sam suddenly stopped her, taking her by the arms and looking into her eyes. It was dark out, they could barely see the others face. But River could hear the fear in Sam’s tone as she spoke. "You better get that little ass out of here, cause i’m getting myself in some deep shit and it will be worth it if I know you're no longer in this Hell hole. They don't need to corrupt anymore people with their fucked up beliefs. NOW GO!" River remembers seeing Sam shoot her gun into the air to draw attention as she ran to the right, away from her. River did get back to the resistance.

Sam was eventually caught by the Peggies and lets just say, went through HELL. Papa Joe was NOT a happy man. She was sent to John to “atone” for her actions, and boy did he make it hurt 10 times more. Yet, she never regretted helping River; even smiling a few times during her “atonement” whenever John would say to confess her sins. “It can’t be a sin to help an old friend leave Hell” She was eventually found by resistance members and was helped to safety, too weak to fight the Peggies that tried to get her back. She actually blacked out at one point, waking up in a room alone. She knew she was safe now, feeling relaxed for once. But also that anger within her was coming back up, and she will give those Peggies Hell the moment she is strong enough to. River and her grew closer and closer over time, Sam confiding in River about what happened to her. She was never good with expressing her emotions, but River sure was; and that gave Sam comfort.

Once Sam was strong enough to fight, she did. She learned how to build explosives, made her favorite weapon: barb wired baseball bat, and fucked up any Peggie she saw. She helped that deputy with anything, River and her being a duo in certain tasks.

“If ya ever need a dramatic exit with explosions? Call me. AND if ya ever need someone to bash a Peggie’s brain in? I’m your girl.”

Facts:

- She has a sleeve of tattooed bliss flowers on her right arm.

- She actually got close to John first, she figured it be easier than the other heralds. She even had a one night stand of sorts once. She hates talking about it cause she finds it embarrassing. Her first sober thought the next morning as she ran out his room was, "I dont need him getting attached to me! Nope!"

- Joseph kept his promise of not blissing her up, or she thinks he did. She my have been slipped some, who knows?

-Joseph could see Sam's reluctance in her actions many times, however. So he and his heralds always kept an eye on her. He feared she was on the brink of defecting, but didnt think she'd do so with eyes on her 24/7.

- John calls Sam, "little Devil", for many reasons lmao

- Sam is a big drinker, and she hated the fact you couldnt drink in the cult. Also it's a reason she liked John in the beginning; he always had alcohol hidden away.

- here's a playlist I have for her so far: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7zAKlUsEuQMsvWt4Y5Q3vn

- after defecting from the cult, she reconnected with Jerome. Shes realized that he tried to teach her how to do right things all those years ago. And while she still rebels against him, or everyone really, she cares about him now. Unlike in the past.

- If given the chance, she would start a cult as a way to say "fuck you, this ones better" to Joseph

- Shes met Emily and Hope before, both being deputies along side River. She isnt close to them but occasionally helps out with missions.

Random Quotes:

. "You never know when a decision is going to change your life. So always be careful around here."

. "You don't know how nice it is to see the fear in the peggies eyes. I've seen it countless times in

. "I wont lie, you shouldnt trust someone like me. Not saying I'll go back to Joseph, but just with things in general."

. "River is too fucking kind for her own good. And I know Joseph loves that, so keep her safe when I'm not around"

#fc5 #far cry 5 #far cry oc #guns for hire #i love my wild child #my punk gal who will fight anyone #also alot of this may change #cause this is like a rough draft basically #but yeah #samantha coleman #imma post more pics of her soon

[zenithgurugirl]

Truth pt. 2

My mother since birth has sabotaged my life existence. Anything inspirational as kid that I have done, she did not support. As a child you have the tendency to impress your parent by joining spelling bee's, sports, art stuff, etc... You become social and make friends and become a part of your friends circle (clicks, subculture, etc...).

Okay, so the first thing I do as a child (because I did not go to preschool and probably should have to learn social friendly skills) I tried to play house with the other children. This did not work out well. The kids had the mommy and the daddy thing already picked out and they already picked out their kids (in Kindergarten we had this huge area with sections of play houses set up, it was awesome! Little fridges, ovens, bunk beds, table and chairs, all sorts of plastic foods and plates. It was loads of fun for most little kids okay.)

I was scouted out as a maid. We had picked babysitters and even played out granny and grampy but No... I was maid. I cleaned up the kitchens and made the beds. I cooked and vacuumed, swept and mopped. I did not have a place to go so I switched out into different play house families. I was honed out to be alone. The little girls had "mommy" meetings and the "dads" went to work. I went from play house to play house cleaning shit up.

At home I had a very large play house of my own as a little girl with a big doll house to match. Not from my mother but from one of the guys she dated. He was really amazing for building those two things for me. I was grateful that this guy (out of many many men she dated) even noticed my lonely existence. From age newborn to 5 I had no sibling to play with and no friends. My mother usually put me in the middle of the living room with toys and did her thing (what ever her thing was idk to this day.... I was too busy being imaginative in my own world in my head.) This wonderful man graced her life and felt sympathy for me. So I would come home and hang out the rest of the day in my very own neat organized play house.

Put this to real life perspective in a humorous way....

I might have been the fucking maid at school and neglected as a kid at home BUT I HAD A BAD ASS PLACE ALL MY OWN haha! Make me a maid - I got me a pad all my own, I did not have to share it with anyone! Take that Kindergarten!

I had an imaginary friend named Johnny. He was older than me and smelled like the river that ran behind our rented house. Yes he was wet, all the time, but never dripped water anywhere except outside near the bridge. Don't ask....

Anyway. During the time of the maid play crap at school; I did artwork. I would color on the huge pads of paper. I took advantage of the little book shelf littered with books and read every one of them. I'd get real bored and I screwed up by doing all the packets that were labelled with my name near the teachers desk. Oh she didn't like that because I went ahead and did all the work available for Kindergarten. It had my name on it and I was bored.... what did she expect?

Which reminds me; I was really good at reading and writing before the age of 3. I didn't talk until I was in Kindergarten - by choice. I didn't want to talk. I learned how to talk at age 1 and stopped at age 2 because I was traumatized by my cousins. So, I stopped talking and took up reading and writing. I was able to write paragraphs at age 4 and reading college books. No joke! Its not a bragging thing here. It was survival. I was alone, bored, and neglected by a parent.

In first grade I wrote a book for show and tell. It was called "Monsters". The rest of my Kindergarten year was artwork and going with the 5th graders to a reading circle while the other students did their packets LMAO! 5th graders were confused by my presence at first but then soon realized I was smart and began picking on me. So, in first grade I wrote my first story. MONSTERS. I even illustrated it with monsters. Okay, this didn't end well with the teacher all horrified about my well being and talking to my mom who beat the shit out of me when I got home. In first grade I ended up in the 7th graders reading circle as my 1st grade class mates did their reading circle. I was being influenced by the older kids who were picking on me.

I'm a parent today. I embrace and encourage my daughters decisions and goals. I even help her by purchasing whatever it is that she enjoys. She liked making music so I bought all sorts of crap so she can proceed with that. She likes painting and drawing so I bought art stuff of all kinds. Anything to reach whatever goal or dream she has; I support, encourage, and do with her.

Unlike my mother who beat the crap out of me for writing a book and freaking out the class. Funny thing is, she watched me write it and illustrate it at the dining room table. She kept calling me strange and weird but let me do it. Then beat the shit out of me ???? Thanks for the great support! What she should have done is redirect me, talk to me, and help me with it so it wouldn't be so shocking at Show and Tell. Thanks mom for your abuse, it was the best!

I kept writing. Any attention is great at this age, even if it was abusive attention. I wanted to become a writer. This was now my dream, my goal, my ultimate place in life. I would write books. I would read dictionaries and encyclopedias and all the research books that I can cram inside my big imaginative mind and make stories.

I was and still am continually sick (Marfan Syndrome). My mom did move around a lot. She had many boyfriends. Most of them never liked me because I was "weird". She invented a scenario of me that I was slow and retarded. This probably saved me from molestation since most of the assholes she dated were drug users and criminals and abusive and creepy. She claims today that she never did drugs but I'm well passed the age of naïve - if your friends and boyfriends are using YOU ARE TOO using with them. I was too involved with my lined paper and pencils and books to pay any attention to her bullshit life. I had bad grades except for my reading and English classes.

When we moved back to her childhood town; my play house was destroyed and my doll house ended up with my Aunt who hated little girls. I stopped school all together pretty much. I did good in 3rd grade but had 4th grade twice because the teacher of 4th grade could not stand that I was able to read and understand what her huge grading book was all about. Not sure if anyone out there knows what I am talking about - those huge grade books with all the answers and how to teach a class certain subjects in the book .... well, I read the whole thing and knew that she was doing it all wrong. WOW I got held back a year for being too smart for my own good. She told my mother that I was immature and needed more socially exceptional things in order to pass her stupid class.

She got a new teachers book the next year and locked it in her desk. She also had me sit in the far back so that I couldn't read the big teachers book while she instructed students. Oh lets not forget that she also took me out of college level reading and comprehension studies to Kindergarten reading and writing. Bitch. Like that was going to stop me from pursuing my dreams. I quite school. Basically slacked off anything she had to teach. 5th grade came and that teacher adored me. He let me read and write anything I wanted. The kids (my younger peers from my flunked grade) were jealous and tried everything to ruin my life. I hated them and they naturally hated me. I was in the library most the time during my second year of 4th grade and 5th grade. Read every book on the shelf and learned how to work the computer.

Fights every day after school during the second time around in 4th grade and 5th. I learned how to kick ass and give black eyes. I was bullied most my life so I learned how to fight back. I was even slapped around by a teacher! So, yep I think that kids should be able to fist fight. I think adults today should just go out and fight it out with boxing gloves. It does help. All this anti-bully crap has these kids today stupid soft to even the slightest gesture. OH HE TOUCHED ME! Yeah, he did touch you. At least he didn't fucking smack you around and call you curse words. Be thankful you little wimp!

My mother got married when I was in 5th grade to some wealthy asshole. He treated her like shit and me too. I was not allowed to have any books in my room and I couldn't have any paper or pens or pencils in there either. I had a television, black and white. No radios no desk no nothing. I had to get rid of my dolls. Basically; grow the fuck up. He molested me from day one until I was twenty.

Oh I tried leaving the home. A thousands times did I try to flee. I ran away all over the place. Now, normally a young teenager runs away to a friends house or to a boyfriend. I had neither. Sometimes one would run off to a relative. Yeah, I done fucked myself there too. My family hated me. Thanks to my mother, my grandma and grandpa - my aunts and uncles - my cousins - they believed whatever my mom had to say about me and most the time it was not good. She told them things like - I was a pathological liar, a thief, mentally retarded and rebellious, etc.... whatever she deemed good for her to keep me home. Crazy bitch.

I learned to be social all right. First place to run off to was San Francisco. I slept in the bus depot. I learned how to pan handle. I made friends with homeless and hung out with them learning life skills. You'd be surprised what life skills you learn from the homeless. Much respect for them out there! Sure I got sexually harassed maybe even sexually assaulted and raped. Shit happens and I learned from it. I learned to wear secure clothing and don't fucking flirt. Don't talk to everyone and keep to yourself. Discernment and gut feelings - yep I learned this. I learned to be alert and when it was okay to relax. I learned the value of life. I saw shit that would make one of these spoiled SJW people scream SATAN IS HERE lol! I see this bullshit today and just shake my head in shame about our society.

GROW UP AMERICA

My mom she would have people find me and drag my ass home. I wasn't doing drugs, I wasn't hoeing around and hooking it, I wasn't being a bad citizen in society. I'd always land a job and a place to stay out there. I gave good advice and was actually influencing good things to those around me. I was kind and caring and anyone who was helping me - in return - I helped them. But she would drag my ass back to her home with that molester. I signed up for modelling and that was short lived. I signed up for fashion design at an art school, paid my tuition and got dragged back home and had to drop out. She wanted me with her. Any boyfriend I had ended up sleeping with her or she'd tell them I'm retarded and they'd dump me immediately.

I ran so far away as to end up in New York. I ran off to Canada. I ran off to Mexico. No money. No car. Just a thumb for a ride and a backpack. She would find me and get someone to drag my ass back here to this county. I bought my first home in Oregon. Had to sell it after a year because she threatened me with her suicide attempt. Family blamed me for it and I wasn't even here!!!!! How can a person blame another if the other was not even around her depression. I never talked to her for a year. So she goes depressed to the point of suicide because I didn't talk to her and was living my 23 year old life out with a full time job, a newly bought house (not a rental), a car that was paid off and raising a kitten.

I was forced home by family members and threatened. I came back because my half brothers packed up my house with a moving van and had their wives beat the crap out of me. I wasn't going to come back. I had sell my house, my car, lost my job (worked in a craft store), and lost most of my belongings thanks to half brothers and their evil wives.

I rebelled as much as possible and became the monster they thought me to be OH YEAH! Started drinking, smoking weed, pill popping, partying, stole my moms car, and ran up the cell phone bill and any other bill she had to pay. Then I stole her money and spent it too! By this time I was 25/26 years old. I did try to run off a few other times but my half brothers would travel across the states and bring me right back to mother. She was divorced when I was 20 years old. My half brothers thought of me as a shit ass retarded girl. My mom began gender shaming me. I did end up gay for a while because she wanted a boy not a girl.

I'm super straight as they call it today. The gay thing was a phase. I can't keep a boyfriend ever or get married. My mom will scare them out of my life even today she does that shit. Oh and she moved in with me after I bought a trailer in the trailer park. The family tells me "She will be homeless if you kick her out so think about that when you decide to be nasty with her again. You will be blamed for her homelessness if you kick her out of your home!" OUCH!!!!!

Do I hate my mom? Yes.

I have many reasons to hate her. I learned to distance myself from any love and can walk away cold and shallow from any relationship. I have no heart for actual love now. Thanks to her I have learned this. Never get attached to anyone or anything. I can walk away from this life and not feel a thing for it. To me, it was a waste of time and energy. My existence is a total waste and time of energy.

Happy Mothers Day......

Actually; I love my daughter and her boyfriend. I have a motherly (my own kind of mommy) to her best friend and her boyfriend. They are my true family. If something happened to them I would be weeping and feeling pain over it. I had a half sister who was my best friend in my 20's who ended up as a best friend and I love her too. She passed away 3 years ago and I still cry over the loss of her. So not all is waste of time and energy. I did learn how to correctly love my little family despite what my mother has done to me. I still hate her. I live with her or rather she lives with me. Her sick joke is to tell people "My daughter and I are married" ..... No. Just no.

Someday I am going to publish my novels. Every one of them. I'm going to move away and have several places that only my little family knows about (my daughter, her best friend, and their boyfriends - because they seen first hand how my mother is) and I will build my mother a home of her own - a gift from me. But my homes are not anywhere near her home and no one can drag my ass to her house because after all - I gave her my life - 40+ years of it.

I just feel wasted away though. I missed out on all sorts of stuff that I am seeing with my daughter. I didn't want to live here in a trailer park. But when you have a mother or parent that leeches off you spiritually, mentally, and physically - your time and effort mean nothing. I had money but it was spent on her bullshit. Right now today she complains that she has no money blah blah - yet 6k sits in her bank account while I pay 300 dollars on bills and 850 dollars on rent with a 600 dollar paycheck. I'm in debt. She doesn't help and if I ask for her help she usually says "I don't have money to help you".

Typical.

I don't ask by the way. I know what comes out of her mouth with the HELP ME question. 6k in her bank though. She can pay bills for the next 3 months at least. Give me a breather. Or let me move in an ex boyfriend who wants to help me and is pissed off at her for digging me into further debt. She likes me suffering and struggling. If I am happy she gets all sorts of angry. No joke! She's 74 years old and still gets up in my mug if I even act on being happy.

So yep. I have vented it all out.

My plan; to own multiple escape area places and never tell her where I went. When she dies to collect the house I had built for her and leave joyfully and to never visit her graveside EVER!!!!!!!!

Happy Mothers Day!

[felixeslee]

92 q tag

hello this tag is highkey irrelevant now but it’s been in my drafts for ages so !! laskdgjasodigjsaldkgasodigjasdg which is why i wont b tagging anyone bc im so late but !! yeah !! ok !! !!!!!!!!!1111!!! lets !! go !!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

tagged by @hyuunjins @hyunjinh @straykiz and @dae-hwee from my w1 blog (lmaoo hi pindi this is sarah!! AIddgsdfk if youre aware of this blog but hope its ok if i do it here alskdg ) 

rules: once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. At the end choose 25 people to be tagged. 

🌙 LAST

Drink: the water that I drank this morning!! Aka around 12 hrs ago asdgasdgoij pls stay hydrated kids 

Text Message: i texted my brother if he knew where my dad was lol,,,,,,, sldkjgaosidgj 

Phone Call: CALLED MY BROTHER BC HE WASNT RESPONDING MY TEXTS,,,,, he also didn’t pick up ldskgjsoidgjsldkgsjdg

Song you listened to: Goodbye My Love by Aileeeee <3 lovv 

Time you cried: TODAY ,,,, i was getting super anxious bc i didn’t know where my dad was ??? he was supposed to pick me up but he forgot abt me until like an hr later… sldkgjaosidgj 

🌙 HAVE YOU EVER

Dated someone twice: no :00 lmao i’ve never dated… ever alskdjgaoijsdf 

Kissed someone and regretted it: i havent had my first kiss yet HEH 

Lost someone special: unfortunately, yes :( 

Been depressed: sdgksjadoiglskdfosdijgalskdfaosdigjaksdgoaisdjf idk 

Been drunk and thrown up: lmao i’ve never drank ,,, at all,,,, the smell of alchohol scares me,,,,, evn my little brother has had a sip once and he’s 5 yrs younger LMAO ,,, but im a noob and don’t wanna try sldkgjosidjgs 

🌙 IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU

Made a new friend: yay yes yeslgkdgsdf

Fallen out of love: i dont think i’ve ever evn been in love…. Sdlgksjdoigj 

Met someone who changed you: yes,,,,,,,,, 

Found out who your true friends are: uhhhh idk aslkdgjaosidjf i honestly can never tell when someone’s being a fake friend so!!!!!! Idk honestly lmao

Found out someone was talking about you: i did ! but it wasn’t for anything bad or anything……… they just criticized me behind my back?? But i agreed w their criticism so alsdkjgaosidgj  

🌙 GENERAL

How many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: ummm,,,, like 4?? We r mutuals evn though none of them r actually kpop blogs,,,, so i always feel guilty spamminig their aesthetic feed w my screaming tags and annoying shit LMAO but i lov them <3 

Do you have any pets?: NO :”( I WANT A DOGGO THO …. REALLY BAD…..

Do you want to change your name?: uhhh ik so many sarahs its not evn funny and my last name is hella basic too????? Theres 3 ppl that share my first+last name in my school alone….. So maybe i’d change it to my chinese name (yue) ?? also bc it sounds more sophisticated,, and i lov anything that makes me sound smarter than the reality of my dumb self LOL 

What time did you wake up this morning: LOL so my alarm rings at 6:40 but i get out of bed at 7:10 SLDGKJSODIF … and i need to get out of the house by 7:20 lsdkgsdoig 

What were you doing last night: physics and apush :SLDGJOSIDFJ the 2 most dreaded classes UGH

Something you cannot wait for: DINNER .. i love me some gud dinner

Have you ever talked to a person named tom?: thomas jefferson my mAN 

What’s getting on your nerves right now: when it’s so heckin cold i can’t concentrate + i hate taking notes when it’s cold??? Bc then my hands r like half numb and it HURTS WHEN I TAKE NOTES sldkgsoidjf ALSO WHEN I DRAW ,,,,, STIFF FINGERS R THE WORST WHEN DRAWING

Blood type: i think a????????????

Nickname: my most common ones r swisso + salad (i promise these make sense in context LOL ) 

Relationship status: return NullPointerException; //im a cs person,,, dont judge

Zodiac sign: capricorn!

Pronouns: she + her

Favorite show: i dont watch many shows but i love watching a gud studio ghibli movie when im feelin down

College: this QUESTION LSDKGJSODIGJ ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i wanna go to college but will any accept me ??!?!

Hair colour: its naturally black but it’s currently dyed ombre from black → brown !!!!!!

Do you have a crush on someone: i havent had a legit crush in 3 yrs lmao……. 

What do you like about yourself: the fact that im a deep sleeper. Idk how light sleepers function omg like wouldn’t u wake up to like,,,,, everything??! :((( that makes me sad bc u hav no idea how much i lov a nice long undisturbed slumber

   🌙 FIRSTS

First surgery: okAY so like i've had 2 procedures done on my eyes lmaooo like (1) when i was a smol beb of like 1 yr old i rolled off my bed aaaannnnddd the corner of my eye hit the edge of the sharp corner of the bedside table!!! and then y1ke$ things got ugly loll (((yes, i wuz dum + clumsy since the day i popped from the womb))) its all stitched up now and i hav a tinie tinie scar aslkdgs okay and (2) there was something weird abt my tearducts LOL so u know when u get sad nd stuff ur nose gets runny and u sniff a lot??? well like that wasn't the case for me bc the passage way from my eyes to my nose was completely blocked off,,,,, which resulted in me lookin like i was full blown cryin like every 2 seconds... like if i kept my eyes open for too long my eyes would get watery and tears would flow out LMAO ,,,, i looked like i just never stopped crying,,, but it was just my eyes were just ALWAYS WATERING sdlgjsdif damn u have no idea after the procedure i was like 'do ppl live like this??? not having to wipe tears every 0.2 sec??? oh my god,,, i am livin THE LIFE' 

First piercing: i hav no piercings!!! Bc stabbing holes thru myself scares me sdlkjgsoidg but i love the way earrings look tho so :///// 

First sport you joined: dance or gymnastics???? I dont rly remember

First vacation: CHINA prob???? 

First pair of sneakers: i think sketchers LMAO ,,, the big thing  

🌙 RIGHT NOW

Eating: nothing!!!!!

I’m about to: do som sketches for my AP art class 

Listening to: my dad sing som old chinese folk stuff behind me LOL 

Want kids: i already adopted all 9 members of stray kids tho ??? idk if im ready for more atm 

Get married: LOL This question just reminded me of smol story from my childhood: so like i used to b rly close w these 3 other kids,,,, one other girl and 2 guys,,, and our parents were all rly tight too,, and our four families would just go camping together and it was rly :’’D fun and so we all made a pact that I would marry one of the guys and the other girl would marry the other guy and we’d all go camping together forever but then KINDERGARTEN HIT,,,, we moved schools and yeah im still rly close w the girl but i miss the 4 of us dkgjsodigjsdlkgsdf LOL 

Career: waterbottle 🌙 

WHICH IS BETTER

Lips or eyes: eyes? Eh idk i just never rly considered lips ?? LOL 

Hugs or kisses: hugs? I dont hav experience w kisses so sldkgjsoidgjsd yike syikes yikes 

Shorter or taller: TALLER

Troublemaker or hesitant: uhhhhh neither??? Like i just want someone playful + extroverted bc im quite introverted,,,,,,,,,, so if he was hesitant we’d just b super awkward and quiet,,, and i don’t like getting involved w sketchy troublemaker shit either LOL ,,, 

Older or younger: as long as they r in the same school grade level,,,, and i guess 1-2 yrs older is okaY? But lowkey freaks me out if too old 

Romantic or spontaneous: sldkgjsoidfj both? Like i lov someone who is unpredictable and spontaneous,,,, but on the other hand im lowkey a helpless romantic lasdkgjaoisdjf 

Sensitive or loud: both i guess too??? Its good to have someone understanding and sensitive but also someone who knows how to have fun  :) 

Hookup or relationship: hookups,,,,,,,, just dont make sense to me,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, like i get attached to someone p easily so even if i dont plan on being attached,,,, i’d probably get attached :(  

🌙 HAVE YOU EVER

Kissed a stranger: YIKES no 

Drank hard liquor: nO 

 Lost contacts/glasses: UH I HATE THIS BUT YES….. 

Sex on first date: yikes * (6.02 *10^23) adkgaosidjgaslkdf no thaNK you 

Broken someone’s heart: i dont know,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, like i might’ve but maybe im just not aware ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, but on a sidenote i think my old comupter science teacher gets a migrain everytime he sees me LOLLLLLL sdlgjsoidgjsldf 

Been arrested: no,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, :0 

Turned someone down: yeah lmao i kinda feel bad tho bc they were all good ppl,,,,  lskjgosidjf but thankfully im still good friends and pretty tight w all of them ~  

🌙 DO YOU BELIEVE

In yourself: ocassionally i try to :’’D

Miracles: lol yes 

Love at first sight: i used to ? but not anymore,,,, like i believe u can be attracted to someone at first sight ?? but i feel like love cannot be attained thru visual contact only asldgjoasidjalsdg

#sarah: tag #LMAO sry for the random stories here nd there #and i wrote this like 2 weeks ago so yeah .l LMAO #thank u all for tagging me i luh u all <333 #lSDKGJOSDIGJSDG

[yoonminist]

crush stories p3 (💕tell me about your crush 💕) 

 my crush is another girl, she's short and athletic w/ real pretty green blue eyes, tanned and asks silly questions. we're kinda friends, i talk to her once or twice a week, but she's kinda probably really straight woops 

aww she sounds cute :’( having a crush on a straight girl is,,,, not the Worst thing ever but it rlly is unfair

 My crush is a year older than jm, sje has dark brown hair and eyes and she'sfar taller than me. She's a walking talking meme (like me) and a cosplayer and whenever I message her Ialways use a very Bad pick up line. She is a sucker for it. Ah! She also plays the piano and she's very good at it! And her voice is like the best baritone voice that I've ever heard (for a girl at least)! MUSIC COUPLE FOREVA WHEEEEE~ 

PLEASE tell me you’re dating lmao in any case if she likes your bad pickup lines then she’s so into you i love this

Omg I just remembered how I got my best friend into kpop! I just send her a pic of yoongi AND SHE WAS GONE!!!! She talked non stop about him like the cute little baby she is (honestly i know NO ONE who's cuter than her I know her since she's born she's the cutest and softest and prettiest baby ever i swear) she even named her fishes yoongi and jimin BUT JIMIN ATE YOONGI LMAO I'm honestly so proud of myself for showing bts to her she adores them so much

JIMIN ATE YOONGI IS THIS A SIGN jdnkjnefjknd im jk “she's the cutest and softest and prettiest baby ever i swear” bye that’s adorable

i once had this crush on my roommate, i thought she was straight but then she came out to me and said that she has a gf and thats ok w me, the problem was shes always naked when she comes back to our room after taking a bath(this culd be ff material)

omg if you want her to stop then tell her it makes you uncomfortable but,,,,, if you don’t want her to stop then LMAO 

my crush is basically jimin. he reminds me of jimin so much- short, looks similar (even the eye smile and laugh), energetic and caring to everyone. and um. not to b conceited but one of the reasons i love ym so much is i relate to yg a Lot so it freaked me out when i realised ym interactions are so similar to ours. when we were in high school he sat in front of me in class and he wld turn to glance like 20 times in 1 hr (yea i counted) but everytime i make eye contact he’d whip his head back and act like nth happened. he’d just… like hover? Around but when i look at him he dashes off. once he happned to sit next to me while i was drawing and it seemed like he was sleeping so i didn’t look, but after abt an hour i looked up to check the time. he almost slammed his head on the table i.. he was staring at me the whole time.. anw the thing was tht everytime he talked to me i end up being blunt and kinda.. ignoring him cos feelings scare me + when i try to talk to him he suddenly seems in a hurry to get away.. were in the same college now. we saw each other a few times but didnt approach. ystd i happened to walk the same way as him. i decided to say hi,,he asked me what im studying then ran off after i answered. it’s still the same. sry if this got long ive never gotten a chance to rly talk abt my crush .///. 

ooooh god i don’t know anything about stuff like this but it sounds like your being blunt kinda scared him off ?? from this alone he seems like the type you need to be gentle with so idk if you want to be close to him but if you do i’d suggest you keep making the first move and don’t ignore him like before so that he isn’t this shy around you anymore ,,, or maybe you just wanted to vent lmao w/e happens with this guy i wish you both the best !!

My crush amazing blue eyes and black hair. When she plays with her dog it brings out the prettiest smile. She liked me back (i didnt know she was bi too) at some point we started dating. She had complete control over my emotions i thought i was starting to fall in love until she broke up with me. It was awful. after months I still can't get over her. She started talking to me again but we're not together.We're just not meant to be I think :) I'd just like to meet her one day that would be enough

no!!!! don’t talk to her !!! take this from experience, i think the best way to get over someone is to get rid of them until you’re 100% ready to bring them back into your life again, as friends,,, even if it takes months she should understand but if you can’t do that then i just hope you get over her asap so that you can go back to being friends :’)

I actually denied that I kind of have a crush on this one guy that I met through another friend and I still do deny it because he's only into Asian girls and I'm Islander so it could never happen but honestly he's really funny and I don't feel all that awkward around him but there's no way he'd go for me. My friends, including the one I met him through, kinda ship us but I could never tell him because I'm the farthest from his type there could ever be tbh lmao

ohh hopefully he isn’t that shallow not to disregard a potential r/s just because you aren't asian but i GUESS it’s understandable if he’s asian too n it’s a family/cultural thing ?? i get the ‘denying your crush’ thing though askjdnjsjgkj hang in there hun it won’t last forever :’(

my crush has red hair and she's tall and gorgeous, we match so well, i know she likes girls too but im scared to try something. i was at hers today, and we ate brigadeiro and watched sense8 ahhh

THIS IS CUTE i'm not gonna force you to go for it but i hope one day It happens and you start dating ♡

I made out with my crush once while super high and then he helped me pee and that's about how romantic my story with my crush is 👋🏻

Who Said Chivalry is Dead 

Are we still talking about this crush thing? Because lemme tell you a story. I once had this crush (years ago). He is now my best friend's boyfriend. Lol tbh I'm not bothered but I keep laughing at how freaking cliche this is, it just seems like it came out of a fiction on wattpad. Most recent crush tho, well, he nearly accidentally killed me and my friend. Let's just say I no longer have a crush lmao. But compare my stories about my crush to others make me laugh. THE CONTRAST.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE NEARLY ACCIDENTALLY KILLED YOU COME BACK AND ELABORATE

#ask game