#i have this collage all planned out too i just dont have time to make it

[etchedstars]

have to create so so bad but unfortunately. the Responsibilities

#i have this collage all planned out too i just dont have time to make it #gasfgasjfadfdhghs FUCK #the overdue asteroid strikes again

[sonicenvy]

a solid 80-90% of my coolest craft/art/writing/making ideas come to me at the most inconvenient of times:

late at night when i am trying to sleep

in the shower

at work while im helping someone out with a thing

while i am biking or driving

when i am on a train car or bus having to stand instead of sit

tonight's inconvenient idea was for a new, different embroidery hoop that wasn't the pattern i downloaded and printed onto my dissolvable stabilizer, stuck onto fabric and mounted into a hoop (and then bought the thread for) and started on.

This idea was to do some of the images from the book of kells. I am especially fond of the very famous folio 27v which is from the gospel of matthew and depicts the symbols of the four evangelists (matthew, mark, luke and john as the man, the wingèd lion, the wingèd calf and the eagle). The one that seemed to be the least technically difficult to stitch in my mind was the wingèd calf (luke) so I cut the image out of the page in photoshop, enlarged it and printed it out. Once printed out I made a (clumsy) tracing of it onto another paper, which I'll have to refine and ink later. For now, I'd call that proof of concept.

After inking, ill probably scan it back into the computer and make a vector of it and print that vector out on the water dissovlable stabilizer to attach to my fabric. I decided to go about this route because, frankly, I'm shite at tracing things digitally with my ancient wacom tablet (and my ipad is too old to do apple pencil + procreate which would probably be better. Plus, like, I have a light box, why not use it?

As a side note I cannot draw AT ALL, but I am passable at tracing because of embroidery and because I traced stuff all the time for assignments back in primary school that we were supposed to draw stuff for if I couldn't get away with doing layer collages cut out with my x-acto knife for the project instead. (yes i was a single digit age child with an x-acto knife. my dad had an a+ parenting moment when I was like, maybe 5 and taught me how to cut out things (mostly my paper dolls) with an x-acto knife. I didn't even know how to use scissors at the time lmaooooooo. because x-actoing shit out is soooo much better, as I result i still stink at scissor cutting things.)

anyways. in case you were wondering about what the little guy im planning to embroidery looks like.... boom!

he's just a little guy! medieval monks drew all kinds of fun and funky creatures and frankly, dear old irish/scottish medieval monks, im obsessed. y'all dont get me started on medieval art and illuminate manuscripts or ill be here for 100000 years. my bones will be telling you about medieval art.

the other embroidery projects that are totally still going to happen:

the sea shell pattern i downloaded. good thing i didn't have to pay for it....

a blue morpho or a paper kite butterfly.

some kind of stitch sampler

other fiber art projects:

that crocheted shawl i downloaded a pattern for a kajillion years ago

the giant blue crocheted scarf that I got about 60% of the way through making from that pound o' love yarn skein.

mending. so. much. mending.

#margaret babbles #personal bs #obviously the actual thing that i need to be doing is working on my sleep and applying to grad school but hey here i am instead.... #this post completely ignores the at least 5x projects i have going on in the pottery studio.... #so much art ideas and soooo little completion #don't talk to me or my 10000000000000000 art concepts ever again lmao #also lets not think about my ever growing list of fic wips and giffing ideas #no siree

[hey-its-cweepy]

Lesson 1;3: Getting To Know Each Other

Basics here!

Part 1! Part 2!

Also please let me know if you would like to be tagged when more parts come out✨🕺

The group of developers sat in their office, working on creating designs, writing scripts and recording the voices needed to bring their project to life. It was just supposed to be a simple dating game with a little twist in the story.

"We've never done anything like this before... Such a risky project... What if it gains sentience? What if this little plan of yours backfires on us?"

"Then we'll just delete the program, simple as that, no one will ever know what happened... Now then, let's add some "special touches" that'll really make this project stand out"

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

With Crowley having given the students their official schedules and privately dealing with the gas leak situation, its time for Roan to start their first class in Night Raven Collage! Roan is mildly annoyed at having to repeat their school days, but its better than being homeless.

Roan sat in his chair, listening to the professor explain his lecture while looking around at the other students. Some were familiar as ones that were whispering and talking about him and the fellow magicless students. He mainly recognized Dell, who sat not too far away, attentively listening to the professor's rambling.

"Now then, for your first assignment you'll all be working in pairs, which I've already decided for you..." The professor says before listing off pairs of students.

A certain blue haired student seemed very anxious as the professor listed off pairs of students.

"Oh no... Why did we have to work in pairs..." She whispered to herself.

"Don't worry! I believe you can make it through!" Dell seemed to try to provide a sense of comfort to her.

"... Roan and Momo and for the last pair, Dallas and Dell... I better not see any of you start fighting or petty bickering, understood?" The professor inquired.

Dell seemed excited, "Absolutely!" They cheered, a gleam of joy on their face.

The blond kid that appeared to be Dell's partner on the other hand, seemed to be annoyed, murmuring something to himself before quickly putting on a smile "Understood, professor!"

The blue haired girl still seemed anxious, nervously shrinking in her seat. "... M-Mhm..."

"Good... I dont want to hear any quarreling or fighting between any of you..." The professor explained.

The students start meeting up in their respective pairs, with the blue haired student shyly approaching Roan.

"U-Um... I-I'm... I'm Momo... Momo Kira..." He looks down and nervously fidgets with their fingers. "S-So... Im g-guessing you must be R-Roan... Right?..."

"Yeah, that's me..." Roan confirmed "So since we're working together, let's get started."

"R-Right..." Momo nervously sat closer to Roan, anxiously holding on to the edges of her sleeves.

Dallas and Dell however...

"Great, of all the stupid kids in this room, I get stuck with you." Dallas hissed out the last word.

"Worry not! My system is quite advanced and isnt as prone to glitching or crashes! So I can-" Dell gets cut off by Dallas.

"Not that you idiot, I mean that you aren't even a real student! I'd rather be stuck with that pathetic mess over there that's practically crying at the magicless kid!... Actually, I take that back, I'd rather be in a different school..." Dallas mumbled something to himself that's too quiet for anyone to hear.

Dell's avatar once again seems a bit upset at the mention of it before quickly putting a smile back on. "Cheer up, Showstage! I can prove you that I'm just as effective as a... "Real student"..."

Dallas rolled his eyes. "Tch, sure you can..."

Nonetheless, the various pairs of students seem to be working just well with each other or at least for the most part. Once the bell rang and it was time for lunch, Dallas quickly rushed out, not wanting to have to deal with Dell for a second longer.

To him, Dell was probably the one of the most annoying students he's met so far...

"UGH! I just can't stand that stupid program! Can't it shut up for more than 5 minutes?! And why does it always seem so stupidly excited about everything?!" Dallas muttered frustratedly to himself as he leaned against the wall.

He groans and mumbles to himself before moving some stray out of his face, taking a breath as he's about to leave.

"Hold on! Don't leave yet!" A voice called out.

Dallas quickly spun around in surprise and alarm, trying to see who it is.

"Wh-Who's there?! What the hell do you want?!"

"Calm down, calm down... So you want this program to shut up already, right? I have just what you need" A hand extends out from the darkness, a single USB being handed out to Dallas.

"This old thing?... The hell am I supposed to do with this? It looks so... Old" Dallas complained.

The figure chuckled, their eyes slightly narrowing in an uplifting smile.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, they say... This little thing will make this "pest" stay quiet alright... So, will you take it? Or would you rather have to deal with their constant rambling?" The figure asked.

Dallas seemed to think for a bit.

"... Alright then, I'll take your offer" Dallas greedily took the USB from them "If it'll get that stupid "Dell" to shut up for once... Thank you!~" Dallas cheered the last part with a smile. "I'll be sure to give it back-"

The figure chuckles once more.

"That... Wont be necessary... Its yours now..."

"O-Oh... Well thank you for the gift then!" Dallas laughed a bit as he left "Finally, I wont have to hear that thing talk for a straight hour again..."

#dallas showstage #momo kira #roan murdoc #dell dovahkiin #dell nyan dovahkiin #twisted wonderland #twist #twist oc #twisted wonderland oc #twisted oc #twst oc #twst #OC LORE #LORE DROP

[saal-school-project]

Part 4

8th grade (2019-2020)

8th grade was special, in a bad way. It was the last year of middle school, thus the year of LGS. It's a high school entrance exam. Nice. It's a snippet of whats to come 4 years later, the real deal, the YKS (collage entrance exam, which braches out as TYT, AYT, and YDT), but lets not worry about that now. I kind of feel a little foolish for taking LGS so seriously. But the teachers made it seem that important, and all of my classmates studied, so I felt like I had to, too. I remember the Joker movie coming out. I watched it on the net and made an… unfinished fanart? I guess I just couldn’t find anything beter to draw.

Now that I look at it that hand is way too small.

I know this is a really bad picture of it and it looks like I cropped it someone else’s thing, but really I dont know where the drawing is now. Its been more than three and a half years, this is the only pic I could find of it.

I still wrote occasionally, despite my main focus being studying. Ugh, studying, yuck! And I think I started writing in English too sometimes! The middle of 8th grade was when COVID hit. Remember 2020? I can't believe it's already 2023; my sense of the flow of time got all messed up after 2021 for some reason. During the quarantine, I really didn't want to study, but I had to. I designed another character for my hybrid of a game. Back then, I still thought I could pull it off on my own if I learned Unity. Duh, I still have delusions of my own, but I'm over that particular one. Anyway, towards the end of it all, I started to feel like maybe I deserved to buy a Nintendo Switch and finally play Breath of the Wild once all this was over. So I just did that. I entered the exam, did my best, and didn't care about the rest.

My mom also forced me to take a talent exam at some fine arts high school, even though I wouldn't go there even if I won. Maybe she made me do it as a backup plan if I got a bad score from the LGS. Thats kinda sad now that I think about it. So when I went to the talent exam, I was all grumpy at first because I didn't even want to be there, but I left feeling pretty happy because it was pretty fun and a great confidence boost. Normally, I'm pretty antisocial, but I made friends with the kid who sat next to me instantly. He was pretty talkative, extraverted, and a bit clumsy, as he somehow managed to break both the eraser and the pencil sharpener given to him, so I let him use mine instead. He was pretty surprised when I handed him the unopened eraser, as it was way more than halfway through the exam and I hadn't used it yet. We talked about stuff. It's been years; I don't remember. It probably started with something like, "Yo, how did you make LGS? I didn't really care about that, but I also didn't have anything else to talk about at the moment, which made me feel kind of shallow. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for me, and I didn't really want to be reminded of it, but since we got along and I enjoyed the company, the topic must have shifted to something I actually liked at some point. While I was leaving, people who saw my art complimented it and said I would definitely make it into the school, which I did. but, like I said, I wouldn't go there either way. This sounds like I'm bragging, but actually, when I think about it, it makes me sad. I didn't have memories like these after middle school. It's like I'm a husk of what I used to be. Something went wrong somewhere, but I can't pin it down. (This is the existential crisis sprinkled in; it can be like that sometimes.)

I spent all of the summer of 8th grade cooped up in my room. more so than other summers. Well, the fact that my dad sold our summer house, where I spent my previous summers, is partly to blame for that. I didn't mind. I got my Breath of the Wild and played the hell out of it that summer. I also got Mario Odyssey and Super Smash Bros. Did you know that cartridges for the Nintendo Switch taste like trash? Because they are so small, it would be easy for a toddler to swallow them, so they made them taste bad so the baby would spit them out. or at least thats what I remember; again, I'm too lazy to actually check. Anyway, there's not much else to talk about in 8th grade, I guess. I just really wanted to enjoy myself that summer.

Pictures of my switch:

#lgs #yks #nintendo switch #drawing #joker

[cardboardclownery]

[ SWAGGER COLLAGE TUTORIAL OR SMTH ]

Woaaaaaaah we got a special one today folks-

My dear buddy chum pal broski bestie asked me to teach it how i do my collage-y lookin art, and i figured i might as well make it available to anyone else who wants to know B]

Quick disclaimer: im not the best at explaining stuff, and also am not a professional or anything!! Listen to me or dont, these are all merely what i do when i make this kind of stuff-

Oh, and ill post the full spread im making here separately for anyone whos interested in that rather than this guide thingy :P

Since i usually like making more cohesive spreads with a certain theme or subject, i like doodling potential drawings i could use in the spread before starting!! This is very much optional, but helps a bit in case youre worried about having no ideas when you go straight into drawing. You can even plan out where youre gonna put different drawings on the page if ya want!! :]

After that, i rummage through my Trash Box for trash that matches my vision for the spread,, if ya catch my drift B]

For this one, since im making matching spreads for disposable girl and irreverent girl (weevildoing swag yknow yknow), i picked out some hot topic tags and stuff, a few tags from clothes that looked fitting, and a pretty bit of a pokemon tcg deck box i saved!! I mostly just went off of vibes and colors this time, but you can go off of whatever feels right when youre picking collage stuff -v-

Oh, and if you plan on trying out a lot of collage stuff, COLLECT SO MUCH TRASH. Find a bag, a box, anything to hold some fun looking wrappers and junk you could use. Be sure to clean anything used to hold food though, ants dont make good collage bits,, usually,,,

Now, the natural next step: gluing that junk on!! Generally its good to have some sort of pattern for how you glue your base collage bits down, like sticking to certain parts of the paper, or making a shape, using a color sequence,, though just slapping stuff on until it works for you also goes pretty well in the end if youre into spontaneity! Just trust the process and go with the flow and all that-

Oh yeah, and collage includes more than junk yknow!! You can use different kinds of paper, stationary like sticky notes and stuff, anything to add some variety in texture BP

Now for the fun bit!! Well, i find all the steps pretty fun, but the drawing part is probably the most fun for you lovely readers ;]

Not much to say here, just do whatever youd do with a typical drawing/page! I recommend trying to fill most/all of the spaces you left blank (if any) when gluing stuff down. Working around all the collage may serve as a challenge, but its not tooooo annoying once youve gotten a feel for it. You can also add some more collage here if you want -v-

Finally, the second best part (in my humble opinion): the stickers!! I usually do this last, but the order probably doesnt matter? Just kinda,, put stickers on wherever!! Try layering them, or covering doodles with them, or making new pictures with them, go CRAZY WITH STICKERS!! You can also use some paint pens or gel pens to add a little pizazz,,

Once youve bedazzled to your heart’s content, you can add any other details and finishing touches you deem necessary, and v o i l a, youve got a collage!!

Dont worry too much about things looking “right”! Ive found that art is a ton more fun when im not stressing out over how clean my work looks, its all about having fun and expressing yourself!! If something looks a bit wonky, or you think you glued something in a weird spot but cant change it, keep rollin with it! With collage in this style, mistakes are kinda part of the experience, so dont worry yourself too much if things dont go as planned

Hope this was atleast somewhat handy!! Lemme know if you want another tutorial like this or something idk-

#bobosart #bright colours cw #sketchbook #art tutorial #art advice

[romancemoon]

Citrine Focus: Are they able to multi-task or do they prefer to keep at one thing at a time? Opal Wonder: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves? Opal Sky: Do they tend to get lost in their own thoughts/daydreams?

✨ @rootworkin. meme. still accepting!

Citrine Focus: Are they able to multi-task or do they prefer to keep at one thing at a time?

vi's in a zoom meeting taking questions from people while answering emails on his business phone, answering texts from both his parents at his sister on his personal phone, answering texts on his other business phone, and got his palmpilot on his desk planning what he's gonna do in the next two weeks and considering what plans he needs moved around, cancelled, etc. and all the while he's probably passively listening to jazz music in the background and has a his booklet of notes he took throughout the week on his clients.

and while he’s doing that? he’s managing his notes on some community center art gig he’s taken up as co-director and he’s handwriting something to the director on how he’s managing the logistics of making sure the event goes smoothly.

he’s smoking weed and drinking himself a lil hpnotiq all while doing it.

you're not gonna find someone who multitasks better than him.

Opal Wonder: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves?

his imagination is huge.....he’s a born artist. he paints, he draws in several mediums from markers to pens to pencil to charcoal. he can do pottery, metal sculptures, sand art, collages, assemblage, found objects, other mixed media techniques like that. and no he doesn't really share what he's created because it's not for other people to look at lol... its for him. and it’s for his own well being. virote started art as a means to make sure he doesn’t get addicted to drugs and throw himself off a building.

i mean he started long before that as a kid but lkgjfdgldjf he was bad off then too. his art is for him. he might display it somewhere if asked..... but its for him. and he doesnt care who doesnt get to see it or who sees it............. if u do, u do. if u dont, u dont.

he’s very moved by post-impressionism and fauvism styles, that’s usually where he pulls inspiration when he paints.

heres an example of what hes done :))

to be honest, he really doesnt think much about what hes done. he puts it down on canvas or in sculpture or even dance since hes also a dancer and that’s pretty much it. and he doesnt return to it. his art isnt for him to return to, either.

Opal Sky: Do they tend to get lost in their own thoughts / daydreams?

as creative as virote an be, hes not one that sits there and daydreams ... he dont even have dreams at night. he usually just blacks out and literally nothing happens in his brain then again he has to medicate himself to catch some z’s so gflkdjgdlfk. he really has nothing he daydreams about either. if he’s getting lost in his thoughts, it’s probably because he left some stuff at home by accident and now he has to rely on brain power alone to get himself through the day and keep himself on track.

i think the closest ull get to that for him is if he’s reading and actively blocking out everything else around him. sometimes he does sit there and ponder if he really has nothing to do... but its never enough for him to get lost. a healthy dose.

he really likes philosophy and thinking and stuff but he takes time out for that.....

#( 🌙 ABOUT! AN AURA OF MOONLIGHT AND DARK NEON. ✨ ) #rootworkin #/ vi's an adults kind of adult. he's an Adult+.

[lovysmtalks]

Fallen for the wrong you

(Based on this idea)

Even from when Marinette was a child she liked being more boyish- in her mind clothes have no gender and will never have.

But the world thought differently

Her father didn't like her for that

And neither did the people around her

Nino who was a childhood friend of hers always said that she should be more feminine.

She laughed it off as being a joke but when he didn't laugh with her she just stopped talking about it.

✎

She was 14, after she had one of the girls in her class confess her love for her, she realized that she was bisexual.

She started dating Lila, a popular girl in her school.

But once Lila visited her house, it was like hell was brought on her head.

Lila stated ranting about how she should dress like a lady and be more girly, and she should stop talking like a boy and talk more softly and be more demure.

(while Marinette literally had to go to therapist because she wasn't exactly talking and didn't talk to anyone for 4 years)

Marinette with a heavy heart took her advice and stepped out of her comfort zone by asking her parents to help her be more girly.

For the next few months Marinette observed Lila's personality traits and tried to recreate them as much as she could.

The soft and stutter voice

The soft smile

The pink dresses and short skirts

✎

After 2 years,  Marinette was now known as a bubbly and shy person. Dont get me wrong, Mari observed how Lila was flirting with other guys and started ranting about anything the short girl did wrong.

But Marinette observed something else too

People were really kind to her,

The teachers complimented her on the dresses that she wore

The people in school talked to her more

For fucks sake, even her dad talked to her more.

That kinda her the poor girl, but now she was finally accepted, right?

✎

Last year of lycée...

Year with a lot of exams and brought by excitment of starting a new chapter in your life.

Lila broke up with Marinette at the end of last year, turned out she was just confused and never actually liked Mari.

The girl was really hurt it.

But her dad said suck it and be a man.

(Ironic because he treated her badly when she was more boyish)

✎

When she started college, she met Adrien

A son of a big designer in Paris.

He befriended her, and they spent alot of time together

She started to fall for him and she tried to confess...

but then when they opened up more to each other, it turned out that he was an incel that believed a woman belongs in the kitchen and is basically a sex toy and a baby maker

Mari started to distance herself from him, and made a note in her mind that said "I hate men and I'm shit scared of them, never fall for anyone and dont get in relationships or anything more then hookups."

✎

Last year of college.

Marinette meet Chloe Bourgeois.

The two girls because friends fast due to both of them having similar childhoods and interests.

Chloe helped Mari open more and teched her to not give a shit about anyone or anything

✎

After collage, Mari and Chloe opened their own company

Even tho it was hard at the start.

They started with nothing else then a little help from Mari's uncle, Jagged, and Chloe's mom, Audrey.

It was hard, with most of the industry being controlled by selfish rich men

But they did it

They made it to the top

After 2 years of trying, they finally made  it up there

After many ups and downs, they finally did it.

Both girls were know for being the most kind people in the industry.

And they planned to keep that face on as long as they could.

After all, people dont like it when girls are rough and 'mean'

✎

Damian lost a bet.

That was what started the hell hole

Dick and him made a bet and he lost it? The world must have come to an end.

*Flashback*

"Ok little D, you must stop being in your room all the times,  dont you have friends to hang out with?" Asked Dick

Damian stares at him for a second

"Jon is on a mission with his family, did you forgot?" He said

"Yea but that doesn't mean you just stop going outside." Dick said seriously.

Damian wasn't the type to have many friends or go out a lot, everyone knew it, but now Richard was just being an asshole for reminding him that.

"Look, why don't you get a job? You will have to take father's place one day and you dont even know anything about what he does." Dick said

"Of course I know what he does, I..he..uhm" Damian was at a loss of words

'Am I really that ignorant?' He thought

"Look, why dont you two have a bet, if Dick over here wins, you will get a job, if Damian wins, Dick will leave you alone forever and never bring it up again." Jason said

Damian looked at his two older brothers

"I'm in." Dick said

After some seconds

"I'm in as well" Damian murmured

The bet was who can capture the next villain to appear faster.

Dick was faster with only some minutes, meaning that Damian lost.

*Flashback ends*

He was now standing infront of the building of a company he had no idea of. And he was very lost.

✎

Once Damian stepped through the door, he was pushed by someone, making them both fall on the floor

"I'm so sorry, are you ok?" Asked the soft voice of the person who pushed him

"Yea I am alright" he said

He opened his eyes to see a short girl giving him a hand to get up

They made eye contact

Damian's breath cut short

After some seconds, the girl heard her phone ring

"Oh hell, Chloe must be waiting. I'm sorry I have to go"  she said as she started to run

Damian didn't have time to ask any questions as she ran fast, very fast to the lift.

The guy linked repeatedly as he looked after her, a small smile forming on his lips.

✎

It's been 6 months since Marinette bumped into Damian.

The two of them got closer and they became friends... until the 4th month

That's when Damian confessed his crush on her.

She told him she felt the same.

And they started dating, and neither of them could be happier

✎

It was a late night after a celebration party

Both of them got drunk

When they got to the hotel, they started heavily making out, with no care into the world

Clothes started to come off as they moved to the bedroom

They got to the bedroom with him being in his bottoms and her being in only her shirt

They threw themselves into the bed

Damian slowly started to take off her shirt

But when his hand touches her skin

He felt something weird on her waist

Damian stopped the kiss so both of them could breathe

Once the dizziness from the kiss stopped his eyes went on her waist

His brain took a screenshot

He saw alot of tattos on her torso

Marinette looked up at him

Her eyebrows narrowed searching for his gaze. Once she found it, her mind panicked.

She pushed him off the bed and got up, searching for her clothes

Until Damian woke up from his shocked state, she was already gone out of the door.

He got up to look after her but once he was in the hallway, there was no sight of her anymore.

✎

*Some days after the break*

"Are you sure this is alright?" Marinette asked Chloe, who was sitting at her office.

"Babe, he lied to us about who he was and then got close to you, most probably to use it against you, you know how men are, they are all the same, plus,  you can give the job to someone who actually needs it" Chloe said as she threw a paper on the desk.

Marinette looked at the paper, it was  a dismissal paper.

2 days ago the girls found out who he really was.

The son of a rich competitor. Bruce Wayne to be more specific

Both Mari and Chloe know how the Waynes are.

They are cold, and mysterious.

Marinette was having second thoughts about this, but she couldn't risk her name being stepped on, not after working so much to get where she was.

The girl started to think if their relationship even was a relationship, they both were lying to each other.

She knew he wont accept her as she is, and now after learning who he really was, there was no doubts that it was real, and he probably didn't care, like everyone (besides Chloe) in her life.

"Hi Sam, call Damian in Mari's office please."  Chloe said to the secretary.

Marinette got behind Chloe and tried to ignore what was gonna happen

After some minutes, there was knock on the door

"Come in'' said Chloe trying to hide the rage in her voice

In the door stood tall no one other then Damian Wash- I mean Wayne.

"You called me Chloe?" he asked

Damian looked behind the blonde girl to see his girlfriend (?) Turned with her back and looking at the window

"Its Miss Bourgeois to you." She said in a icy voice.

Damian opened his mouth in surprise

"And yes, I called you, please sign this" the blonde says pointing at the paper infront of her

Damian hesitantly got closer to the desk to read the paper

"A dismissal paper? What's this about?" He asks confused as he looks at Mari again

"Dont play dumb Washington." Chloe said, putting anger on the word 'Washington'

Damian looks at the girl shocked, his eyes winded

"Marinette, if this is about that night I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" the man was stopped by Chloe

"Dont you dare try to talk with her after you lied about everything Wayne."  The blonde said loudly.

Damian let out a sort breath while he still looked at Marinette.

"This is a misunderstanding, I didn't lie to you guys, let me expl-" he was once again stopped by Chloe slamming the desk

"ENOUGH WAYNE, just sign this and were done."

Damian's eyes didn't leave Marinette

"Angel, please let me explain." He pleated

Marinette's head turned a little to the side

"We're over." She whispered, with a hint of sadness in her voice

Damian's eyes winded more

He looks at the paper and gets  the pen in his hand

He took one  more look at Mari

And he signed it.

"You are free to leave" Chloe said while turned to Marinette

And he did leave.

✎

After he was gone, Mari broke down in Chloe's arms as the blonde girl was stroking her back slowly

"I'm sorry sugar, I promise I won't let anyone hurt you anymore" Chloe whispered in Marinette's ear

✎

*at the Wayne mansion*

Damian's slammed the door closed as he entered the mansion, gathering the attention of his brothers and father

"Hey demon spawn, how was work?" Asked Jason as Damian walked past him

"Lilttle D, is everything alright? You seem down" Dick said

Damian stopped.

"I got fired" he says while his voice cracked a little

Bruce's eyes winded

"Son, I know you liked the job, but it's not that big of a deal, you can work with Tim" he suggested

Damian was looking at the floor

"And my girlfriend broke up with me"  he whispered

"YOUR WHAT?" says Tim as he spilled his coffee

"Since when did you had a girlfriend Damian?" Asks Bruce

"Since 2 months ago" he whispers again

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jason asked

"BECAUSE I KNEW YOU WOULD HAVE RUINED IT FOR ME." He screams

The family was stunned

"Master Damian, no need to yell, why dont you vent to us? You're very stressed, I can tell." Alfred says

And he did, he told them all about Marinette, all the dates, all the laughs and smiles they shared together, he even told them about what happened that night

"So you're telling me, you got fired because of some tattos?" Jason asked

"No, I got fired because they found out I was a Wayne" Damian says roughly

"How did they not know?" Bruce says

"They dont look into competitors families, it's a bad habit that both of them have" The young Wayne said

"So for 6 months nobody told them who you were?" Tim asks

"No, because we weren't seen in public, I tried to be as careful as I could so no one would know " Damian sighed

"Well fuck, you fucked up big time, but that's not exactly a reason for her to fire you, not a good one at least" Dick said

Damian shrugs

"Wait, I think I know how to resolve this" Tim says

"What do you mean, Tim?" Asked Jason as Tim put his laptop on the coffee table

Tim started aggressively typing on the keyboard

"We now have a charity event to go to" he smirked

✎

"I'm not sure what to think about this Chloe."said the dark haired girl

"We're going to leave when you want sugar, but we need to attempt at the event" Chloe said as she was looking through Marinette's closet

Since Damian left, he was all Mari could have think

about.

She was distracted, hurt, confused, maybe even kinda mad at herself

"Aha, found it, look Mari! You would look so pretty in it. Plus it brings your tattoos at life" says Chloe while holding a suit in her hand.

Marinette promised herself that she would finally show the world that she wasn't the soft girl she always pictured herself as

She knows her parents would be watching the event, and she wanted revenge on her father for the years of therapy that she needed to get because of him and every man that did her bad, every man that said she couldn't open a business because she was a woman.

So she put on the suit, and left with Chloe who was holding her hand protectively.

✎

Once the two girls exited the car, flash lights were all over their faces

They somehow got into the building

Chloe went to get to get them both something to drink, leaving Mari behind.

The girl looked around the big room, her mind being concentrated at one of the paintings.

Suddenly someone was dragging her out of the room

"WHAT THE HELL, LET ME GO!'' she yells to death ears

She continued to struggle but nothing moved out of the person's grip

They got into a dark room, Mari could hear the door lock, she closed her eyes, scared of what was gonna happened.

She heard the light turn on.

"Will you now let me explain" said a familiar voice

She opened her eyes in surprise

"Damian? What the fuck is wrong with you, have you gone nuts?" She said angrily to him

"You didn't let me explain myself, so I had to do something about it, I cant just go on with my life because I know you didn't know what actually is going on." Damian says trying to make his voice as soft as he could, so he wouldn't scare her away

Marinette remains silent, sign for him to start speaking.

"I didn't mean to lie to you, but have you seen how you reacted when you found out who I was? You started to treat me differently." He whispered

Marinette opened her mouth to say something,  but she decided to remain silent

"I didn't lie when I said I love you, god I still fucking do, but I had no idea how to tell you" he sighed

Marinette sighed a deep heavy

"If we start to confess things, I also have something to say" she says

Damian's eyebrows narrowed

"I'm not this bubbly shy girl, I am not the sunshine I make myself look like" she says

"Oh." He said

"I never was and I will never be, I print myself as that because people would treat me differently if they knew the real me"  she sighed

Damian took a step towards her

He kissed her forehead softly, then her lips aggressively

"Then show me the real you"

(Marinette's tattos/suit and Chloe's dress)

#maribat #ml x dc #marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #mlb au #maridami #marinette x damian #my fic #damimari #angst to fluff #daminette fluff #daminette

[getliverurself]

7 things I’ve learned about grief, while I’ve been grieving my fathers death.

This morning I woke up and Ira and I talked about how much fun it was and how our wonderful tour guide, Cat, made our night even more incredible.

In the midst of all of this, I thought about my Dada, who I miss each and every day. My dad LOVED horror films and got such a kick out of Halloween Horror Nights and various “scare” attractions and would always , with his hands clasped, yell “WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!” During the drops on rollercoasters (like a total nerd).

I felt compelled today to write something to all those who have lost parents.

I want to start with the impossibles.

1. There’s nothing anyone can say that will make it better.

People will try to comfort you by telling you it’ll be ok and your loved ones spirit will always be around you…

2. They mean well…

Refer to #1. There truly is absolutely nothing to say. What people do say, is usually meant to give you some comfort so just know they aren’t trying to trivialize or minimize your grief. They just really don’t know what else to do.

3. Feel what you need to fucking feel

Cry, scream, laugh, cry again…

Scream again…

Eat an entire tub of ice cream and pillsbury crescent rolls, have a glass of wine (I recommend Sancerre, but if you DONT drink “Surely” makes an excellent substitute for Sauvignon blanc) smoke a joint (if you’re into that) meditate! Collage! Paint! Listen to your favorite band that gives you comfort, whatever it may be. and of course…

Cry again. Cry in heaving, wailing, on-the-ground-can-barely-breathe-fuck-the-universe sobs.

Then. Take 3 deep breaths. DEEP BREATHS. Not the “breathe in deep for me” breaths when you get a check up. FULL BLOWN OXYGEN BREATHS.

Center yourself. Remember, the dead won’t be helped if you stop living.

4. Call a friend.

Call someone you love and trust. Call someone who remembers your loved one. Telling stories can often times help with the grieving process, in my experience at least (I’m a newborn, lost my dada in February so I don’t know it all) and make you feel less stuck on the magnitude of grief you can sometimes become engulfed in.

5. GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK

Grief is a 24 hour, heavily taxing and bleak job. And sometimes, it’s ok to give yourself permission to NOT GRIEVE. Don’t feel bad if you don’t remember whoever you’re grieving for a few hours… that means you’re HEALING!!!!!!! I like to think of it as a scab… if I pick at a scab over and over, the wound will reopen and bleed out. The more I leave it alone and appreciate that it will take time for it to heal, the sooner it will start to scar. It’ll never fully be gone, but it won’t always be readily available to be picked at at any given moment. Sometimes it feels as though if we don’t pick at those metaphorical scabs, we’ll forget they ever existed. But they’re still there, under the surface… you just have to look for them.

6. You might think you’re ok, before you’re actually ok and that is most definitely ok.

There is no set plan for grief. One day you may be an ocean of tear stained pillowcases, exhausted heaving chest sobs and knocking over of old photographs that remind you of once was that no longer physically is. Allow yourself to feel whatever, whenever and however. And if anyone tells you to do otherwise, they are

A. An asshole

B. Never have experienced this kind of grief before and

C. Not worthy of your open, honest emotions.

D. They can go fuck themselves.

D. Pt2…. They may experience this themselves too one day… try to be there for them even if they weren’t there for you.

Finally…

7. You actually, shockingly, WILL be ok. (Pardon the cliche)

I know, I know… such a trope. But for real there’s a reason that cliches are formed. I’m gonna be honest: you may never be the same “ok” as the old “ok” but you will be a new version of “ok”… go at your own pace… take care of YOU. Try to find the glimmers of their light whenever you can. And if you can’t, find ways to emulate that light within yourself.

One day, I hope you pass these thoughts on to someone else who needs to hear them.

In the mean time…

Stay strong. I send you my heart ten fold.

And to dada… I miss you so much. I hope I’ve somehow made you proud. 🙏🏻

Xx, Abbie.

[indomies]

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

sabrina @lanwangiji​, my love, tagged me to share my process of making this typography edit! check out her explanation of her the untamed edit and her edit tag. 

1. PLANNING

i once opened lyrics edit requests so i can learn and practice typography. this edit was a request as well. i asked them which lyrics they wanted to have and the colors they’d like. since i got several requests and it was hard to keep tabs on them, i made a trello board so i could organize everything. i’m still using the trello board for every edit idea i have, the board makes my life easier.

above is what i filled the card in the board with. basically just information of the requests.

1.1 INSPIRATION

once i got the request, my first thought was to find the vibe the song/lyrics exude. “it’s an old curse” screamed witchy vibes to me, so i went to pinterest to find some inspirations. at first i was looking for witchy poster designs and i came across this. i liked how it has smoke-ish graphic and i thought the smoke suited the “old curse” lyrics. and tbh pinterest is a rabbit hole, they gave me suggestions after suggestions, like this and this which became my inspiration for the color palette (i added the gold from those pics) and the sun moon design gave me the idea to incorporate space stuffs too. i somehow landed on this too, and because i wanted to include space theme, i made a simple phases of the moon. ultimately the hero of this edit was the lyrics, i didnt want the graphics took the center stage. i was inspired to make a crystal ball and do this kind of typography but after several trials i couldnt get the the typography right, so i scratched that idea and went with the space theme instead.

1.2 PICKING COLORS

after i was feeling inspired enough, i went looking for the right colors. i usually just type “color name” and “palette” on pinterest. example “dark grey color palette” and i chose the one i liked best. when the request only asked for 1 color, i always searched for either a complimentary or contrasting color to give it a jushz, to add sprinkles. that’s why i added gold on top of the dark grey. 

1.3 FINDING FONTS

this is the hardest part. the fonts play important role to the design. they need to convey the vibes of the lyrics, in this case witchy/magic vibe. i needed to find fonts or font just as magical and a bit whimsical. tho i hoard fonts... i like to use new font for every typography edit lmao sue me.

i highly recommend going to creativemarket free goods site, pixelsurplus font freebies and behance to search for fonts. i always use 100% free fonts, that means i can use it personally as well as commercially. creativemarket gives me desktop license for the fonts, which means i can use it for commercial as well. the reason i do this because i want to open an etsy shop someday, and i want to have the right license when i sell my stuffs. i almost never buy fonts bc they are expensive lmao. 

the fonts in used are “Vintage” for the main typograpy (i think i was a freebie from creativemarket) and “Morganite” for the title of the lyrics and the name of artist. 

2. CREATING

once i have my materials and ideas, i open my illustrator and hope it doesnt crash every 5 min.

for this kind of typography edits, i use 600x700 px. tbh i dont like using 540px, the suggested tumblr size, as the width bc to me it doesn’t look as good in quality, so i up the px. but more on this sizing later. i utilize the artboards function in illustrator, and i use 2 artboards.

i use illustrator (ai) bc i’m working with vectors. when i work with vectors, the graphics/texts or whatever im making in ai wont become blurry or lose its quality when i enlarge or shrink it. in compare to photoshop, i need to make for example the moon graphic very big, so i wont lose the quality when i reduce and enlarge it again. with vector, i can start small and when i expand it, it’s still as good as when it’s tiny. 

2.1 GRADIENTS

i started with the gradients first. i created a rectangle as big as 600x700px and with the “freeform gradient” tool in ai, i played with the colors. below is the color palettes i used

2.2 LYRICS AND GRAPHICS

once the gradients are done, i worked with the lyrics and graphics right away. when i first doing this edits, i made typos a lot lmaooooooo. so i copy and pasted the lyrics on top of my artboard, so i wouldnt have any typos. 

i had 3 layers in my ai. one for the inspo pics and the OG lyrics. the rest for the edits themselves. i broke up “It's an old curse/dreamers diving headfirst” into to parts, hence the 2 more layers

i almost always started with the lyrics first then the graphics. but for this edit, i made the smoke first so i can layout where my text would be.

tbh the process of making the lyrics is a trial and error. i tried bunch of different stuffs and i chose whatever the best. but i worked like methodically, i made sure i finished the first part of the lyrics first then i could move on.

i was lucky with this font “vintage”. the font offers me several glyphs like these

and i chose the one at the bottom. you’re very lucky if you find a font and they have glyphs.

excursion: glyphs vs fonts

glyph is an individual character. It might be a letter, an accented letter, a ligature, a punctuation mark, a dingbat, etc.

A font is a digital file which is used to display a typeface, which contains the entire upper- and lowercase alphabet as well as punctuation, numbers, and other special characters.

after i was finished with all the lyrics i added some graphics to make the edit pretty like small stars or dots. i added the song title and the artist too, sometimes at the bottom sometimes at the top. and i added my watermark put it as small as i could and made it a bit invisible but still can be seen.

2.3 EXPORTING

exporting! this is where i’m going to go deeper with the dimension of my work. in ai, i always choose to save with “export as screens” function. it automatically divides the artboards i have and save them separately. i always save as png, bc the size is smaller than jpg but can maintain the quality.

now the export tab looks like this

see the formats? i always scale up my edits, 2-3 times the original artboard size. reason is, to maintain the quality. i have tried to save it as original, 600x700 px, but it turned out a bit blurry. bc everything in ai is vector, when i scale up it doesnt lose the quality. BUT once i save it as png, it’s not a vector anymore, and when you zoom in until a certain degree it’ll be pixelated. that’s why i always scale up, to avoid it becoming pixelated when it’s just zoomed 1 or 2 times.

2.4 FINAL TOUCH

i opened my photoshop and also pray it won’t crash. import the png of my edits, add some grains/noise. the reason i use photoshop is, the noise filter is way better than in ai. it’s smoother somehow. and then i export my edits.

(i have a timelapse of how i made one of my edits, it’s not this one, but it’ll give you a better visualization. find it HERE

3. POSTING

now the hardest parts are done, we go to posting!

i uploaded the 2 posters on tumblr as photos then i wrote the captions. for this typography edit, i always chose another lyrics that i like from the same song for the caption. i bolded the lyrics, add link to all of my typography gradient edits.

i always use this link to color my caption. i usually choose 3-4 colors, and i took the colors from my edit. but this was not until recently lmao. before i just took a guess and looked for similar colors that match the edit, but then i thought “why didnt i just use the color in the posters lmao”

ok after i have my html code for the caption, i go to this site to replace the “;” with “ “ so tumblr can read the code.

i’m not one who puts their edits in draft, bc i just cant wait to post it. i have to option here, either i post it immediately when the time is right (i usually post between 4-8) or i schedule it, if im finished before 4. 

i put all the necessary tags and click post! i am done finally!

i’m tagging:

@thetriangletattoo​ for this amazing series

@deludedandlostcause​ for this impressive gif

@half-lightl​ for this spectacular edit

@gayndrew​ for this stunning drawing

@thechampagnelovers​ for this cool collage

@cloudslou​ for this incredible edit

@heyangels​ for this incredible edit

#bacotan belle #showyourprocess

[foryouthegays]

also if anyone wants me to transcribe a clip pls send an ask :) or find something :)

good laugh times: 00:40:10, 00:44:44, 00:54:30, 00:55:47 00:58:37

sellout timer: 00:30:40, 01:26:00

other things: (00:10:00 biiiiiig stretch!!!) (00:39:55 that was the most ‘skeppy tried to troll me but i trolled him first’ scream ive heard in a while a;lskdjfadl) (01:23:00 TECHNOSNEEZE TECHNOSNEEZE)

summary:

Technoblade starts the stream and finds an infinity room (a room covered in white item frames and backed with glowstone or sea lanterns, making it look like there is just Void and no end) covering his house. he removes the grief and continues his intro. While waiting for Tommy to join his VC, he finds a Zombie villager, cures it, and reads donations.

Techno and Tommy go to New L’manburg and fix one of Technos propaganda posters. They find Fundy and Ranboo and tell them that if Techno gets his sword back, he’ll help them fight the wither he’s going to spawn. He spawns the wither and runs around while Ranboo and Fundy try to kill it. He doesn’t get his sword back until a few minutes into the battle. Ranboo gives him both his sword and his axe after the Wither is killed by Punz and Fundy.

Fundy gets the Wither Star, and Techno decides that it’s rightfully owned by him. Tommy and Techno start torturing Fundy into giving them the Star. After Techno gets the star back, Tommy starts trying to get his disks back. Techno tells Tommy he’s going too far, and Fundy starts crying, and eventually dies.

Tommy and Techno start to move back to their house, and Tommy gets distracted with the idea of blowing up the community house. Techno convinces him otherwise, and eventually comes clean with his intentions and goals to destroy L’manburg. He asks Tommy to join him, and Tommy accepts.

They go to the wolf army and breed the dogs. While underground, they’re almost caught, but they run away before anyone can catch them.

Techno and Tommy talk about an eventual SBI meetup, make a beacon, and then end the stream.

loud startin the stream today!!!!! :D!!!!!! 10 sec in

oh hes actually loud today this is great his voice gets so nice when hes louder

00:00:30 ‘i’ve made a severe and continuous lapse in judgement” s;ladjfkald

00:00:50 diD HE MAKE AN INFINITY ROOM OR???? IS HE JUST????? WH AT???

oH MY GOD IT IS AN INFINITY ROOM AKSDFJALSDF IS THAT IN THE ACTUAL SMP OR????

aa;lskdfjasd someone mADE AN INFINITY ROOM A;LSDKFJASDF WHO????

00:03:00 i love how even minecraft g o d s cant remember fence gate/fence crafting recipes akdjhfald

00:04:45 ‘gUYS DON’T STAY IN SCHOOL!!!’ ‘n- no you should stay in school’ yeah, sure techno ‘collage dropout’ blade

00:05:17 ‘tommy, is this your credit card? let me read the numbers aloud, tommy’ -technos impression of tommys mom

zombie villager pog!

LISTEN TO HOW HE SAYS CONVENIENT AT 5:45 AHHH I LOVE HIM

00:07:35 why does,,,why does techno say disorientating instead of disorienting??? he says disorientating and i just,,,,,techno,,,,techno thats not the American way of saying it. also i didnt capitalize american bc of Being A Country i did it bc of Emphasis a;lksdfal

he stretch!!!!!! ten mins in

techno ate breakfast pog!!!! 00:10:30

13:00 a;lksdjfal

---

STOP MAKING TECHNO GOOD AT CHESS IN GAME HES SAID SEVERAL TIMES THAT HE IS NOT I AM GOING TO SCREAM more proof: 00:14:40 also he calls the chess board ‘the map’ and im akjsdfhkljasd

00:15:40 “i don’t think that dumb people become Minecraft youtubers, I think it’s that being a Minecraft youtuber makes you dumber.”

00:15:50 ‘i was a smart child, I was doing well in school--I mean I wasn’t doing my homework or anything but I was doing well on the tests,” a;lsdkfja

“it do be doing that” -technoblade 2021

WHY DOES HE JUST RANDOMLY KNOW CHESS OPENING NAMES IM SICK OF HIM WHY IS HE LIKE THIS  I HATE IT HERE AALSDKFJASF 00:17:45 its so funny he just reads wikipedia for fun and also same

‘YOURE TALKING SOUNDS’ -tommyinnit, 19:40

00:20:05 ‘tommy, tommy, you’re speaking words, but the only universal language is sounds.’

00:23:24 “we’re going to go threaten....some certain government agents...in minecraft, since I know the FBI is listenin in on my phone right now [techno gets further from his mic and some thuds can be heard] let me just toss that over there...there we go, now they can only listen through my laptop”

00:32:17 mmmm technoyell

fundy n ranboo!!!! 00:33:50

god could u imagine knowing that technos doin a plot stream nd he joins ur call w tommy and they just???? start talking abt the canonical status of ants and new york????? such is the life of ranboo nd fundy a;lksdfjals

WITHER POG WITHER POG WITHER POG WITHER POG 00:39:20

00:39:55 how does he make that sound im crying

HE LAUGH!!!!!!

a;lkdsfjasd ranboo bullying time 00:44:00

god could u imagine being a fan of the dream smp, joining and ur surrounded by all these people uve looked up too, and then they start bulling you?? such is the life of ranboo

torture time!!! 00:46:15, its to get back the star :D

00:50:45 its lowkey terrifying how techno calls torturing fundy to tears ‘the good times’ and laughs while tommy interrogates him. i love it, but also im scared of him. still an apologist. he needs his stuff back!

also like,,,,,techno telling tommy he went too far? terrifying. if techno says you went too far, thats saying something

HE LAUGH!!!!

HE LAUGH AGAIN!!!

my favorite part of techno tommy interactions is how technoll say like, a metaphor or smthin nd tommy just,,,,,,,, ‘yeAHHH BITCH’ its so funny. a good example is 00:56:00:

techno: if you want to make an omlette, you’ve gotta break a few eggs

tommy: yeaaahhhh!! break eggs and bitch!

techno: ....what?

its so funny to me ak;dfjlasjf

and like, their rambles are COMPLETELY different. techno does most of his hopping around in his head and talks about it once he’s figured out what he should do, and tommy just says things out loud without thinking its hilarious

and like, in game, techno is a LOT more calculated than people think. when tommy tries to get techno to blow up the community house, techno has to rein him back in because ‘i’m all for violence, but we need a plan.’ and ‘how would blowing up the community house get your discs back??’ he’s a lot more organized than most of his teammates nd i love it

but like,,,sometimes techno just Says things and its great.  00:57:20 ‘the only dirt we have on dream is his dirt shack, amirite? [claps] gottem. he’s homeless!! eyyyy. lmao.’

00:58:20 is good. also skyblock is canon now.

01:06:50 SBI MEETUP SBI MEETUP

also ‘i dont know about smiling, but’ a;ldkfjadls;fjasf

i love tommy nd techno just kinda vibing

01:16:30 ‘mmmm audience retention rate....mmmm ants’ aldkfja this stream is so dumb i love it

dID TECHNO USE THEY/THEM FOR ERET AT 01:20:55 OR WAS THAT A GENERAL ‘EVERYONE ELSE’ THEY

1:23:00ish TECHNOSNEEZE

A;LSDKFJAS LIKE AN HOUR AFTER GETTING HIS SWORD BACK HE REALZIES HE HAS IT BACK HES SUCH A NERD 01:24:45

he sounds V tired rn a;lsdkfjkasdf

STREAM TOMORROW TOO??? P O G

#stream post

[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

[wildsorcerer]

put your lips close to mine, as long as they dont touch

penelope everpetal/sam nightingale, penelope character study, lots of repressed lesbianism, betrayal, and angst. ~1.5k words. 

read it on ao3 (or leave a kudos/comment lol)

How selfish it is, to doom someone to imprisonment and death and yet to seek them out around every corner. Penelope can neither be free from Sam nor take back what she had done. There will never be another movie night, there will never be another whispered conversation as they sat on the bleachers and watched the bloodrush practice. There will be no more fights about Johnny Spells. No more twinges of jealousy as Penelope looks at them together, Sam fawning over some guy who didn’t care about her, not really, the weight of her silent anger mixing with the weight of Dayne’s arm around her shoulder until her skin was flushed and crawling with alcohol and frustration, doomed to misunderstand her own desire. There will be no more friendship. And maybe if they could have never been more, that’s for the best.

Penelope Everpetal has a box under her bed where she keeps her photos. There is a planner tucked away in a drawer with a five year plan, “stay friends with Sam forever” just below “become prom queen”. There is a crystal sitting on her desk that she has to give to Johnny Spells tomorrow, his girlfriend inside. Penelope can’t even look towards it. She paces around her room, the adrenaline still racing through her veins from the fight minutes ago. Penelope knows that she had to trap Sam. They needed another maiden soon to stay on schedule and Sam was a candidate, so when Sam asked to come over tonight she knew what she needed to do. It was stupid to be worried anyway, if Penelope could just make herself forget about Sam then it wouldn’t matter, and she would be Prom Queen, the first in a century. Nothing was more important than that, not even the sweet smell of the lotion that Sam used after her showers or the moments when their hands would brush when sharing a shake at Krom’s Diner.

And Penelope had trapped her. Just like that. Sam’s back was turned, both of them on her bed, scrolling on their crystals, when Penelope had gotten up, looking over her shoulder at the slender form on her bed, frowning at Sam, and grabbing the palimpsest from her backpack. There was one moment where she could have stopped. The palimpsest was in her hands but she hadn’t recited the spell yet. She could have confessed everything to Sam, tried to get her in on their plan, but the throne was only big enough for one. Deep in her heart, she knew that Sam would have chosen her over the crown, and that knowledge only stoked the fire in her stomach. She was not that noble.

She gripped the palimpsest so tightly that the rough surface dug into her palm, and as she turned around, Sam had looked up at her, the smile on her light blue face fading as Penelope started reciting the spell, tears blurring her vision. Before Sam had enough time to feel betrayed, there was a flash of arcane light that forced Penelope to close her eyes. When she opened them again, Sam was gone. And she was crying.

Now she isn’t crying, but trembling all the same, with the crystal on her desk and the photos under her bed. She looks around at the walls of her bedroom. They are speckled with a photo collage, and so many of them are of Sam. So many of them are of her and Sam together.

Penelope’s breathing accelerates as all of the Sams look at her from their mount on the walls. She walks slowly to the collage over her mirror, which she always privately thought of as the photos where she and Sam looked the best. A dozen or so printed photos bluetacked onto the wall, taken with various crystals, all of Penelope and Sam decked out in party attire, laughing together and holding each other to varying degrees. They always liked to take at least one candid photo like this whenever they went out, and Penelope mounted them over her full length mirror where she could always see them. She felt sick looking at the rainbow glitter on Sam’s cheekbones and the points where they were touching in the photo, knowing that there would never be another moment like that.

She turns away, tears welling again, and grabs her crystal, texting Johnny Spells and Aelwyn Abernant that she has a new maiden but can’t keep the palimpsest. She blinks, seeing Sam’s confusion behind her eyelids, the trust that Sam put in her so strong that her face never even registered betrayal.

Penelope manages to get ready for bed, the normality of her routine keeping the guilt at bay for the minutes that it takes to wash her face and turn off her lights. But in the dark there is nothing but her thoughts, and she has trouble sleeping, but even as she can feel the regret taking root, she tries to pull it out, Sam is a necessary casualty for her to become who she was always meant to be: the perfect person.

If she wasn’t the perfect girl, the perfect teenager, and eventually the perfect woman, then there was no worth to her life. Being Prom Queen meant showing everyone at Augefort how flawless she was, in her dress with a crown atop her head. Penelope’s heart beat faster at the mental image. That was why it was for the best that Sam was gone.

People who fall in love with their best friends are not perfect.

People who feel nauseous when their best friend video called them, people who ache to reach out and touch her shoulder, people who leave their boyfriends at parties to go sit together outside around the side of the house, leaning on each other and laughing with their faces too close, those people are wrong, and Penelope cannot handle a world where she isn’t on top.

She sleeps fitfully.

Penelope wakes up the next morning (after Sam, day one), and gets ready without thinking. She pushes her emotions away, refusing to feel any of the guilt that is clawing at the edges of her psyche. She grabs the palimpsest and roughly throws it into her backpack. It’s just a thing. The sight of the photos over her mirror stops her. Penelope has no way to express the profoundness of the self-loathing that overtakes her. She knows that she can’t look at Sam ever again, and so, before she gives away the crystal that holds her best friend’s soul in it away forever to be imprisoned and kept away from Elmville, she rips the photos down meticulously, leaving behind a graveyard of bluetack. She walks around the entire room, ridding her walls of any evidence that Sam had ever existed as a part of her life. She pulls out the dusty box under her bed of old photos and deposits the photos of Sam there, the thick stack of photos fanning out on impact and giving Penelope one last glimpse of the love that she once had. She shuts the box and slides it out of sight.

It is a long drive to Aguefort.

Penelope’s bag feels unusually heavy as she steps out of her car, three parking spaces over from where Johnny Spells sits astride his motorcycle, lighting up a cigarette. She forces her legs to move, one step at a time, as she crosses the space between them and pulls out the palimpsest. Sam. She thrusts it out to Johnny, like it was burning her, and he takes it without looking at her.

“It’s Sam,” Penelope says without thinking, wildly hoping that someone would share in her grief and assure her that this was what she had to do.

Johnny didn’t even glance at her. “Figured. I knew she was going to have to go eventually.” He tossed the palimpsest up and down for a moment. Careless.

Penelope doesn’t say another word to him. She walks into the halls of Augefort Adventuring Academy, ready to play the part of an upset and concerned best friend.

It barely feels like an act.

There is no moment in Penelope’s life after Sam. She thought that there could be, that maybe the ghost of Sam would leave her once she achieved enough of her other goals, but there is no moment that is free from the look on Sam’s face as Penelope imprisoned her within the crystal. There is no moment after Aelwyn Abernant clocked Sam as a potential maiden, dooming Penelope to her internal hurricane. There is no moment after Penelope rips the photo of her and Sam from where it was taped to the inside of her locker and shoves it deep beneath her textbooks. There are only moments before she met Sam and before she betrayed her. There is no after.

#fantasy high #fanfiction #dimension 20 #sam nightingale #penelope everpetal #personal #my writing #nightpetal

[kaz11283]

It took me forever just to sit down and write this.  Not gonna lie I hit a rock straight up, but if yall just bear with me through this part at least we will be back to smooth sailing.  It’s just been such a rough week with everything going on around the world.  Let’s use this as an escape even if it is just for a little bit.  I’m gonna start kinda having a certain day of the week when I release stuff, right now I am thinking maybe Tuesday and Friday?  Still bouncing things off in my head, but that will give me a time frame and give yall a day when to expect something.  Much love, and thank you to everyone that has started following this journey with me and has followed, liked, and reblogged!  I don’t know what I would do without the support and I am loving the feedback and I am over the moon by what recognition I have gotten.  It’s not big but every little thing makes me feel so special and I am so happy that I am getting to share a piece of me with all of yall!!!

~~~~

Best Friends

Chapter 4

You 17, Sam 18, Dean 21

 

“He’s gone y/n,” Bobby said walking into the living room where you had taken up residence on the couch since you had gotten the call from John two days before. “He wouldn’t want you sulking around here like you are.  He would want you to get up off this couch and at least go take a shower.”  He popped the top on the beer he had in his hand and gave it to you.

“Uncle Bobby you know I don’t drink that stuff.”  You said pushing it away.  You wrapped the blanket around you tighter. “It just surprises me, ya know?  Everything that man has fought in his life, every monster, creature, everything and the man dies in a freakin car accident.”

“Fate has a weird scene of humor sometimes.  He was a good hunter, damn good brother, and a pretty ok father.  He did raise a pretty smart girl if you ask me, course I don’t know where you got it from.  Probably your mother’s side of the family along with her looks.”  He said leaning back and pulling you to his chest.  “I would love to tell you that it gets better, that the pain just slowly goes away until it’s not there anymore but it doesn’t.  You just learn to get use to it.  Some days are easier to get through than others, somedays it won’t even cross your mind, but you’re gonna have your bad days and on those days is when you’re gonna need to talk, let someone help.”  He said kissing the top of your head and getting up to stretch. “But really, go take a shower, I think that your funk is starting to seep into the couch.  Might have to burn it and get another one.”

“No!  I like this couch.  Its broken in just right.  Besides a new couch would just throw the whole room off, we would have to paint, get all new furniture, probably throw away a lot of your junk.  It just wouldn’t work out with a new one.” You got up and collected your blankets.  “Thank you Uncle Bobby for being here, helping raise me, teach me, letting me stay here when you didn’t have to.  Your probably the best thing that’s happened to me.” You said leaning up and kissing the old man on the cheek before you walked up the stairs.

~~~

 You woke to voices down stairs in the kitchen and the smell of bacon and coffee, your uncle didn’t normally cook unless-

You bolted up out of bed and hightailed it down stairs to see your favorite family sitting at the table idly chit chatting with Bobby. “Sammy! Dean!”  The two large men stood up and gave you a hug squeezing you between them like a sandwich.  “Oh I missed yall so much!”  You through your arms around both of their necks pulling them down to your level and squishing their cheeks to yours.

“Hey sweetheart, how you holdin’ up?”  John asked bending down to give you a hug.  You had somehow managed to weasel your way into the eldest Winchesters heart when you was young running around with Sam and Dean causing trouble.

“I’m doin good John.  It makes it a little easier knowing that he didn’t hurt, ya know.  It was quick.”  You shrugged taking your seat between the two brothers.

You all sat and ate breakfast talking about the latest hunt that the guys had been on, hearing John talk about hunts with your dad, listening to Bobby rant about having to bandage up the both of them more times than he cared to.  It had started out as a good day.

“So Sammy, any plans after you finally finish school?”  You asked over you cup of coffee.

“Yes and no.  I don’t know what I really want to do yet.  I got my acceptance letter from Stanford the other day but we haven’t really discussed it any further.”  Sam said looking down.

“Sammy here wants to be a lawyer.”  John laughed.  “Of all things.  Been training the boy his whole life to hunt and now he wants to throw it all away for a ‘higher education’.” John rolled his eyes.

“What’s wrong with that?  I got accepted into KCU working on getting my RN.”  You asked raising an eyebrow at the man.  “He doesn’t wanna follow the family business I don’t see where that’s a problem.  Besides, then you would have someone to get both your asses outta trouble if need be.”

“Y/n you always knew you didn’t wanna do this-“

“But Sammy did.  I think he should have a little bit of a say so in his future.”  You said leaning back and crossing your arms in front of you.  “Don’t worry Sammy, I’ll come visit you on weekends.”

“So you got accepted to KCU and didn’t tell me yet?”  Bobby asked trying to change the subject.

“Well a lot of stuff has happened since I got the letter.  Honestly I didn’t think I was gonna get in, I didn’t turn in all my stuff till last minute.”  KCU had only been a pipe dream for you, going into the medical field was kind of an easy choice; you had stitched, bandaged, and pulled out bullets from more than one hunter that had come through Bobby’s door on many occasions.

“So a collage girl now?”  Dean said winking at you.

“Gross no, you’re my brother.” You wrinkled your nose and made a disgusted look at him

“Ew NO!  Not you!  Trust me I’ve already seem more of you than I ever care about seeing-“ That earned a hard glare from both John and Bobby to both of you.

“Shut up Dean.”

“Like the time we had stayed out all night drinkin and went skinny dippin in the lake.”

“Shut up Dean.”

“Or the time that we had the bet that you wouldn’t walk out on the field during homecoming and moon everyone.”  Bobby crossed his arms, you hadn’t told him the reason you had been suspended from school that week

“Dean, I will hit you so hard that your kids will feel it.”

“Or the time-” You punched him hard “OW!”  He grabbed his arm holding it while Sam busted out laughing.

“There are certain things that you don’t say Dean.” You stared at him with wide eyes.  “Like the time that you begged me to come get you from whats her names house at like three in the morning so that you wouldn’t get caught sneaking back into the hotel that we were staying at, or the time that we had to get Sam to cover for us because we snuck out to go to that party, or ho-”

“OK! Grounded, both of you.  Till further notice.”  Bobby pointed at you and Dean.

“I’m 21 Bobby!”  Dean yelled looking at his dad for help, John simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Your joking me?  Uncle Bobby, you’ve never grounded me before!”

“Well y/n there’s a first time for everything.  Seems like I just didn’t’ know that you need to be grounded all the time.”  Bobby said shaking his head.

“Well thanks for taking the pressure off me guys.”  Sam said draping his arm around the back of your chair laughing.

“Sam, watch it, I’m sure you had your help in something too with these two bad influences around.” John warned.

~~~

The next week was spent going over information about the hunt the boys were about to do, gun training, and hanging out with the boys. With them getting older they werent able to come around as much as they use to so when you were together you made the most of your time. Sam had decided to hang back and go over some more books of Bobby's while you and Dean went for burgers.

"When are you gonna start huntin with us y/n?" Dean asked looking over his burger.

"Dean, we've went over this. I'm better behind a book looking up lore, or with a needle and thread in my hand. I dont do field work. I dont like having to chop heads or burn bodies."

"Your good with any weapon put in your hand, your freakin awesome at fighting. I'm just sayin I ever have to go off on my own your the first one I would call." He shrugged.

"Well I guess I'm lucky that you'll have Sammy then right?" You said whipping off your hands. "But you ever need any research done I'm your girl."

"Sammy's going to collage. Hes getting out." Dean said looking down. "I act all butt hurt and upset that hes leaving but I'm not, not really. I'm actually really proud. Proud of him and you. You both did something that I never imagined could happen."

"But I'm going to collage to learn how to help people when they get attacked Dean, I wouldnt say that was 'getting out'."

"But when this is over and you decide you dont wanna do this anymore you'll have a fall back. Sammy is going to be a lawyer, what can I do? I'm good at killing things."

"You can be a professional hunter," he snorted "ummm, oh, or a gun salesman, or a secret agent." You laughter with him on that one. "Hunters lives is a whole lie anyways I think you could pull it off. Wear a suit, woo a girl." You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Whatever. Let's go home, I heard theres a Hatchetman marathon tonight. Think we could get Sam to join us like old times?"

"I'll grab the snacks." You said throwing your arm around his middle.

~~~~~

Tag List

@samsgirl93

@spn-obession

@iitslibassi

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #reader x sam winchester #sam and dean #y/n x dean winchester #sam winchester #best friends #y/n insert

[seventhroses]

☁️ Dreams

👩🏻 A/N: It's here! This is my first story! I just wrote it as I needed an outlet to get my mind off reality. Probably gonna write again? Idk 🤔Anyway I'm excited to share this! Not sure if it’s good BUT I hope anyone that gives it a go would enjoys it! 🥰

🌠 Geners: Fantasy, fluff, slight smut

📃 Word count: 4.9K

Since young, you always have a thing for dreams. You were told many stories of different people's dreams and you've always finds it fascinating on what goes on in there when your body shuts to recharged.

There was one in particular that had it imprinted in you till now. It was your grandparent's dreams. You can't believe that they actually met in their dreams and how their love unfolds into reality.

How can anyone dreamed of someone else when they've never cross path or see each other before? You always questioned.

You could never figure out no matter how many times they tell you their tales. But even so, it was the sweetest love story that you've heard and of course, seeing it through parts of their times, you were partially convinced that maybe dreams do come true.

As you get older, instead of popping colours of life, nightmares get the best of you. You eventually start sleeping lesser and lesser hours. Dreams were no longer the happy fluffy thing you did look forward to every night.

Today was the worst. It was one of those days, where you felt like everything was collapsing on you. This week have been so exhausting and you probably had less than 10hours of sleep in total. Having to deal with your sickening boss that always throws you with piles of urgent paper work that you end up OT till 1-2AM to finish, colleagues that act as if they're the only one that have a life outside of work and dumped their unfinished work on you.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worst, you sprained your ankle while chasing for your last bus home tonight.

"How great.." you sighed while limping up the bus with your now sore ankle.

"Well at least, I managed to catch the bus…" Trying hard to comfort your miserable self as you found a seat and sat down. 

You finally reached home after what seems like forever. Throwing your heels aside, you limped towards the kitchen to get some ice for your swollen ankle. Walking to the living room you plopped yourself onto the sofa, turning the TV on that you have no plans on watching. You find yourself staring into the ceiling, can't help but to question about your life.

Even though you're tired as hell, you can feel yourself fighting that tiredness, refusing to let another nightmare invade you tonight. But as the clock ticks away by the minutes, you know your fight is futile.

"If only.. I just wish for one good dream.. Just one, to end this miserable week" with that, you find your heavy lids closed as you fell asleep.

The next thing you know, upon opening your eye you saw the ray of morning sun shining into your room.

Checking the time on the clock, 

"It's 11AM?!" Now, widely awake. "Did I just sleep through the night?"

Not remembering when's the last time you slept through the night without waking up with cold sweat or hyperventilating from the nightmare you had. Though, you weren't complaining. You were in fact longing for a good sleep like this.

You got out of your bed, slipping into your bunny slippers, ready to kicked start your day. You just felt really good and recharged from the long sleep. After washing up and making yourself a cup of coffee, you walk to the sofa and sat down, finding a comfortable position to plan how you should go about your day before having your best friend over tonight for dinner and movie.

While you were making plans, a suddenly feeling strikes you. Something doesn't add up, but you can't seem to put it into words.

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

It's 1PM. You're dressed in your ripped jeans and cute smiley sweater ready for some shopping therapy and groceries shopping for tonight's dinner. You grabbed a pair of your most comfortable heels and skipped out of your apartment. You were in a good mood, stress free and you know that's not normal but again you're not complaining. You're going to enjoy it while it last and so you thought.

As you were going down the long flight of stairs towards the bus stop, you were impressed at how you managed to go up these 'stairs of hell' with your swollen ankle last night. That's when you realised, they aren't painful anymore. You were pretty sure it was swollen before you fell asleep but they seem perfectly fine now. You also remember falling asleep on the sofa and not in the room.

So, how did I get to the room? When did I changed into the pj? Now, lots of thoughts are flying in and you couldn't much process or find an answer to them.  Are you that tired that you can't remember what you did?

 "Be careful!!" A loud voice snapped you back into reality and you can feel a strong hand holding on to your arm.

Facing the stairs down, you're pretty sure that you will get more than just swollen ankle if it's not for this person. You turned your head around wanting to thank your saviour but came to face with a white tee and strong veiny arms that is holding on to you. You tilted your head up trying to see who's this perfect fitting body belongs to and there, you saw a pair of small worrisome eyes looking at you.

 "Are you ok? Hurt anywhere?"  he asked worriedly.

At that moment, you couldn't seem to find a word as you were too focus on looking at this charming looking gentleman in front of you.

Let's be honest, ever since you start adulting, life has been a struggle of paying off bills and dealing with your work life. You hardly even have time for yourself, so let alone finding yourself a partner to add on the struggle with.

The only male presence in your life other than your dad, is your childhood best friend, Lee Minhyuk. Well, he's called your best friend for a reason. You have been in each other's life for more than a decade and you know each other all too well. Also, knowing that there will probably be no peaceful day ahead if you guys were to even try. You and Minhyuk can't even decide on a movie together for movie night without bricking for at least 30 minutes and ended up having to tossed a coin to decide. Which, you think it's probably going to happen tonight too. So, it has never really cross both of your mind about developing your relationship into anything else more than what you guys are.

You did met a few people, go for a few dates before but that was in collage when you had the privileged of time. All that just seems so long ago.

Right now, having come face to face with this charming guy, it is sure to activate your needs for a new male presence in your life. Not to mention, this gentlemen in front of you, his visual is… let's just say, he's totally your type. With your 'love struck' expression which you probably are showing now, he figured that you should be ok.

"Hi, I'm Hyunwoo." Waiting for your answer while holding on to you as you steady your feet. 

You noticed his expression changed to a shy and smiley eye, that would totally make anyone soft.

 "Hi" … "I'm y/n." Quite sure you sounded like a robot.

A red one to be exact because you can feel yourself blushing hard and the distant between the both of you and his perfume smell is not helping at all. You can hear him chuckled. His hand is still on your arms. His warm palm on your skin certainly have you feeling the butterfly flying wildly in your stomach.

 "Are you free for a coffee?" You blurted out of nowhere and a sudden realisation that you're thinking out loud, got you in panicked mode.

 "I mean… I mean you just saved me from the probability of cracking my head like an egg... so.. " pausing and cursing yourself for the lame joke. Now, you just want to dig a hole and hid.

He laughed. "I like that" not sure if he said that out of courtesy, just so your now red af face wouldn't burst. 

"and sure. I would love for a coffee with you, Y/n. "

You liked the way he calls your name. Like you never knew it could sound so sweet.

 After the awkward invitation, Hyunwoo slide his hand down from your arm. Holding on to your hand now, he casually walks down the stairs. Going one step ahead of you as he leads you down. He turned his head to looked at you and smiled,

"Now, you don't need to worry about getting your head cracked."

You're very sure at that moment, your face was in tomato red as Hyunwoo holds your hand and walk towards the nearby café.

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

"Do you stay around here?" You asked as the both of you set down on the sofa seating in the café.

"Yes, I just moved here recently and was exploring the neighbourhood. You stay around the area?"

"Yup. Not far from the 'stairs of hell'." Almost rolling your eye.

Hyunwoo let out an airy laughed "I totally know what you mean."

Taking the first sipped of his drink, he started making some sound. "Mmmm! Mmm! This is so good!"

His reaction makes you adore him. How can someone be so charming, gentle and cute all at the same time.

"Oh, what did you ordered?" you asked out of curiosity.

"Honey grapefruit tea! It's on the drink's special menu. It's so refreshing!" You smiled at him as he sounded so proud of his order.

"Do you stay alone?"

 That question was definitely out of nowhere.

 There was a short pause as you were a little startled by the intruding question. Hyunwoo probably felt that he might have make you uncomfortable, so he explained.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. Since I moved here alone, I just thought it would be nice to know people in my neighbourhood. But its ok! You don't have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry for the sudden question." Looking apologetic and not sure if he sounded weird.

But somehow his explanation makes you feel comfortable enough to tell him, so you looked at him,

"It's ok, dont be sorry. And yes, I kind of stays alone. But I have this best friend of mine, that would come crushing every so often to check if im still alive. So i'm not sure if that counts." Again, cursing yourself for the lame joke but it's kind of true too.

Well, atleast your reply showed Hyunwoo some relieved as you can see the smile back on his face.  

"It would be nice if we could have…"

 Before you manage to hear finished his sentence, the whole place start to shake violently. You could hear someone calling your name very loudly, somewhere but you couldn't find the source. Scared as hell, you closed your eyes shut.

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

 When you opened your eye, you were in a dazed. Minhyuk is now on the sofa beside you and shaking you violently. You frowned, now back to your sense. You were quite sure if he were to continue shaking, you would have thrown up on him that instant.

 "Babe! Back on earth?! You scare the hell out of me!" "What happen to you?!" "I came into the apartment and the first thing I saw is your dead body on the sofa!" "I mean lifeless. I mean.." As Minhyuk went on with his chains of words, you rolled your eyes at him. You can totally see that small smirked on his face.

 You had given Minhyuk the password to your apartment on day one when you move in, as he was whining non-stop about it until you gave him the digits. Since the both of you are having movie night every other Saturday, so you though it did be more convenient to do so too. But Minhyuk always says, it's for your safety so he can come by to check on you and see if you're still alive and kicking. You just want to rolled your eye, knowing all too well it's for his own convenience, as he always comes over for free meals, if not when he wants to escape from his mom's nagging. But even so, you never really mind it because he would keep you accompany whenever nightmares start taunting you.

 "What time is it now?" you asked.

 "It's almost 7PM, y/n! And you are supposed to start cooking dinner at 6:30PM!" He shouted across the kitchen while getting you a glass of water.

 You took the glass from him while trying to figure out what just happened.

 "Are you having nightmares again?" Minhyuk asked with concern on his face.

 "No, it's not a nightmare. In fact, it was a good dream." You paused.

"Well, at least it is until someone starts shaking me so violently, I thought there was an earthquake." You said to him with a somewhat annoyed tone now. He pouted.

You stood up wanting to get a quick shower because you're still in your yesterday's work clothes but your ankle give way. Now you remembered that you had sprained your ankle and it's still swollen. You realised what was not adding up. You were dreaming, that's why it wasn't hurting earlier.

And that guy in your dream, Hyunwoo.

Who is he? Have you seen him before?

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

 It’s been a month since you dreamt of Hyunwoo and you were hoping to dream of him again but instead, the whole nightmare routine starts bugging you instead.

 Today, was no different as you find yourself fighting the tiredness to sleep. But after sometime, you finally can’t hold much longer and you fell asleep on the sofa. When you opened your eye and to your delight, you were at the same cafe, same sofa seat where you and Hyunwoo were at before.

 "Hey, your coffee." Looking up, you saw that smiley eyes that you were missing so much, right in front of you.

 "Hey.." You replied, fighting the urge to ask if he he's real. Afraid that it would break the spell to whatever is causing this dream.

 You decided to throw the thought to the back of your head, as you have been waiting for this to happen ever since that day, you tell yourself to enjoy it well it last. So, you turned your focus back on him.

 "How have you been?" You smiled while sipping on the coffee he got for you.

 "I'm good. And I've been thinking about talking to you again" That sudden confession caught you off guard.

 Has he been thinking about me? This is a dream, right? He's probably a reflection of what I've been wanting to hear from a guy.

Now you're very much convinced by yourself that all this are probably just in your head.

 The both of you talked for a while, enjoying each other's company. It felt nice talking to Hyunwoo and you were hoping to talk for a little longer but a loud ringing sound woke you up.

Lazy hand searching for the source of the dreadful sound, you grabbed the alarm and turn it off. Looking at the time, it's now 5AM and you know you are back at the harsh reality of work week. A sigh leaves you as you drag your heavy body out of bed.

 On the way to work, you can't help but be hopeful about dreaming of Hyunwoo again since the second time did happened.

 Indeed, you found yourself seeing Hyunwoo in your dreams for the third, fourth and fifth time in a spent of 2 months. It always happens at the same cafe. The both of you would be seating at the same sofa seat, drinking the same drinks. Even though, there's no knowing to when you will be dreaming of Hyunwoo but when you did, he never fails to makes you happy and recharged. You start seeing yourself looking forward to sleeping and dreaming again. Something that you use to love before adulting. Not to mention, nightmare have been less frequent and you were feeling better every day. It was a good sign for you.

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

 And today you're dream again, the sixth time. But you found yourself at a different setting. It wasn't the usual cafe or the sofa seat that you always sat on. It was a place you are not familiar with. It was someone's home.

 It was Hyunwoo's home to be exact. You can see his family picture framed up sitting on the kitchen's table. He was smiling so brightly in the picture and you can see where he probably gets his youthfulness from. You smiled because in front of you, stands a familiar back hovering over the stove.

 "Your mum look so young and pretty." you said while admiring his back view.

 He turned around sounded in agreement. Now turning towards you, you can't help but to admire this perfect looking guy, in his home clothes and combing his hair back with his hand. He wearing a white tee that hug his body perfectly, showing his chest muscles curve and broad shoulder and a pair of shorts that shows his long legs. Unaware of yourself checking him out so openly, he chuckled

 "Enjoying your view huh?" he says jokingly as he turns back to cook.

 You cough trying to hid your blushing face, "Ahem, are you cooking ramen?" "The legendary 'Hyunwoo's ramen'?" You giggled as you teased him.

 "Yes, I promised its the real deal."

 "Are you sure is that good?"

 "Oh yes, it's that good that you would want for more." feeling challenged as he places the ramen in front of you.

"Go on, have a taste"

 He leans in on the table, moving into your personal space as you took your first bite. You're trying to ignore his extremely close presence, not sure if it's the ramen or Hyunwoo that's making you all hot now.

 "How is it? Good?" Staring at you earnestly, waiting for your feedback.

 How am I supposed to concentrate and eating with him being so close?

 In all honesty, he looks so yummy you just want to eat him instead. You can't help but blush so hard at your own desirable thoughts.

 "Are you ok?" Hyunwoo asked as his hands feels your burning cheeks and his face just inches away from you.

 Your face now so close to his. You looked at his so kissable lips and a sudden impulse urged you to slid forward and kiss him. You retreat back and shut your eyes, hoping to wakes up so you don't have to face the embarrassment from your action. But you didn't. Before you know it, you felt Hyunwoo lips clashing back on yours causing you to open your eye in a shock. That impulse and innocent kiss had turned into a heated open mouth kisses as Hyunwoo move his hand behind your head keep you closer. You felt yourself heated up from the action. You want more. He pulls away after a while, only to carry you up onto the table as he parted your legs to stand between you. He latched his lips back on yours and you swear you're feel all sorts of sensational feeling with what he was doing. Hyunwoo slowly moves his hand with lazy fingers gliding all over your body leaving hot trials and tingling feelings to where ever he passes. You can feel the shiver up your body and the tight knot somewhere inside of you wanting more of him.  

He pulls you closer to him while moving down to your neck, giving you soft open kisses. You can feel his growing bulge pressing on your centre as he grinds up against you, cause you to make soft seductive moans that you never thought you're capable of making.

 "Hyunwoo.." You murmur as you arched your back.

 He tilted his head up to look at you, so done for him just from the kisses. You can see his pupils blown; eyes filled with lust. He wants you. Before you can think of anything, you shudder as you felt the sudden contact of his palm cupping your heated clothed centre. You moaned and that encouraged him to move further. He slipped his hand through the side of your shorts and pushing your panties aside. You hissed at him when he parts your folds and starts making circle at your swollen nub. You can't remember the last time someone had taken care of you like that and saying you were a moaning mess is an understatement. You moved your hand wrapping around his now fully grown budge, wanting to help him relief from the strain in his shorts. You can hear his low moaned when you start pumping him. He sounded so attractive, yet so sweet. Soon after, both of you were helping each other to chased your much needed high.

 "Baby.." the sudden pet name got you closer to your high " I can't…" you curled your toe and shut your eyes, preparing for the rush that was going to come through.

 But talk about bad timing.

 As you opened your eye as you found yourself lying on your own bed. You rolled over, face pressed down and you screamed into your pillow venting out your frustration. You need to settle your sexual frustration. Reaching down to your panties which is now soak with aroused. 

You sighed. "I want him." 

You find yourself craving for Hyunwoo. While thinking of him, you settle your needs with the fate of your own fingers.

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

 2 weeks went by after that heated dream you had. The seventh didn't come.

  "Just go to that damn cafe! It won't hurt anyone…" Minhyuk retorted over at the other side of the phone. Clearly annoyed at you talking about the cafe for the nth number of times over the months.

 You had told Minhyuk about all your encounter with Hyunwoo in your dreams. Maybe not all, you did leave the sixth encounter out to save yourself some teasing that you would for sure get from him.

 "I dont know. I mean they're dreams. I shouldn't let it bothers me so much." turning and twisting your hair on your finger while you talked.

 You have been thinking of going to that cafe ever since the first dream but you couldn't find a reason to go. You make your own morning coffee so you won't willing to spend that extra money on coffee outside. Work also got the best of you, so you go only between your work place or home. Your life it's so exhausting, so during weekends you just wants to stay at home do your overdue laundry and spend the rest of the day sloth-ing.

 Today, Minhyuk finally convince you to get out of your den and you both were planning to meet for lunch.

 "How about you go there and get me a cup of coffee before we meet?" Minhyuk suggested. Clearly taking advantage of your dilemma but, it works. You were more convince to pop by the cafe for a reason.

"You're one smart ass." you can hear his sinister laugh, knowing that he succeeded in getting himself a free coffee.

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

 "Hi, welcome!" The girl behind the cashier smile as you walk through the door. In reality, you have never noticed this cafe before, so let alone visit it, but it felt familiar. The interior and the seating were the same as what you could remember from your dreams. You look at the menu board for a while, even though you know you would probably get an ice coffee to satisfy your caffeine needs as you didn't have one in the morning. But you saw 'Honey grapefruit tea" on the drink’s special menu and without much thinking you ordered it along with Minhyuk's ice coffee. You set down at the same sofa seat that you and Hyunwoo had sat on in the dream, while waiting for your orders.

Your phone vibrates.

TheannoyingBFF: Hey babe! Please dont kill me!

TheannoyingBFF: Hyungwon car broke down and he needs me to find him

You: ...

TheannoyingBFF: I'll buy you dinner tomorrow

TheannoyingBFF: I PROMISE!

You: You better!

You: Be glad that I'm still at the cafe and not on my way

TheannoyingBFF: I'm sorry and I love you!

You: I would've killed you

You: along with hyungwon

TheannoyingBFF: Hope you will bump into him, so my sin can be off set *Praying emoji*

You: ...

You: Bye

 You grabbed your drinks when your order tag buzz and went back to the sofa seat. Having your plans cancelled and with no back up, you decided to stay in the cafe for a while. This cafe makes you smile. You were happy when you're there, so it naturally makes you feel good.

 You took a sip of the new drink and with an impressed look, you mumble to yourself “Waoh, it's indeed nice and refreshing."  Continue drinking, you stare at Minhyuk's ice coffee that is place in front of the empty seat, you thought to yourself how lonely this makes you look. Like you've been bumped or something and this makes you feel like cursing at Lee Minhyuk.

 'Ting Ting' the doorbell of the cafe rang. You didnt react to it as it has been sounding out quite a few times. While you continue to scroll through your feed, a familiar voice started talking.

 "Hi, is this seat taken?" Looking at you and gesturing at the empty seat in front of you.

 You looked up, couldn't believe by the person standing in front of you. You start looking around and find the cafe seat all packed, so you turned back to him "Erm.. No" while you kind of avoid looking at him as you try to calm your nerves and trying hard not to show that "love struck" expression.

 He smiled and thank you as he set down. You moved the cup of now showing two layered coffee away, so he can have his space.

After a minute or so, his order tag buzzed and he stood up to get his drink. Your eye followed him as he went over to the counter. When he got his drink, you notice the table at the far end were about to leave and you can feel a slight disappointment in you, thinking that he would move to that available seats. 

But to your surprise, you see him walking back towards you.

 "If you don't mind, I did love to seat here. Is that ok?" His requested makes you smile.

 "I don't mind. Please seat."

 Both of you were quiet for a while, looking at your individual phones when you decided to break the silence.

 "Do you stay around here?"

A sudden Goosebumps came to you as you asked the same question, at the same place, same spot.

 He looked at you and with a soft smile, not questioning or looking at you weirdly.

 "Yes, I just.."

before he finished his sentence, you were mumbling under your breathe, like you already know what he would probably say.

"..moved here recently and was exploring the neighbourhood."

 He now looked at you with wide eyes but somehow it doesn't look like he was spooked by you but rather a sense of realisation. Like you know his secret.

He grabbed your hand and rushed out of the cafe, bring you to the 'stairs of hell'. That very spot when he first met you.

 "Do you know this spot?" trying to search for an answer from you.

 "Yes" is all you say, as you're trying to process the situation here.

 He grins, showing his teeth and his eyes turned into a smiley eye that were so familiar with.

 "This is real right?" you couldn't help but asked.

Because at this moment, you were just confused and happy all at the same time. Hoping that this could be real and not wakes up to nothingness again.

 "It is." "Let's do this all over again." Not sure what he means by his words, you waited.

"Hi, I'm Hyunwoo. Nice to finally meet you." he stretched out his hand wanting for a handshake.

 You couldn't help but to smile and hug him instead. The guy that you have been thinking of, debating if he is real or just fantasy, is right in front of you.

 "Hi.. I'm y/n" you murmur as you can feel the tears that trapped in your eyes threatening to fall out.

 He hugs you back and you could hear him say "Thank you for finally going to that cafe."

You look up at him "Did you go to that cafe frequently, hoping that you could meet me?" You're certain your face is now showing that 'love stuck' expression as you ask that question.

 "Yes" is all he said as he held your arms and gave you a kiss on your forehead. 

That moment, knew you're the one that needs to buy Minhyuk a meal and you can't love him enough for giving you the reason to go to the cafe.

 "Shall we continue where we left off?" He whispered softly into your ears and turns to look at you with a goofy smile. 

You can feel your face burning as he reached down to kissed you on your lips.

 Having to experience ‘real dream’ yourself, you now truly believed your grandparents dreams and that some dreams really do come true.

#monsta x #fanfic #monsta x fanfic #mosta x shownu #hyunwoo #monsta x minhyuk #minhyuk #lee minhyuk #son hyunwoo #monsta x fluff #monsta x smut

[fluffychubbyrose]

Tony Stark x Chubby Self Conscious reader.

One Shot.

Requested.

Warnings- Slight Language, Slight NSFW so slight if you blink you'll miss it, Tony Stark might be more OC than some may like, insecurities, and light bullying.

(Also I don't own any of these pictures I just made the collages.)

Tony decided today instead of staying in the tower and relaxing, maybe having a movie marathon or something that we should go shopping to get me some more clothes since I keep telling him that I only have a few outfits to wear that are comfortable when he asks why I'm wearing the same outfits again and again.

The outfits are mostly my old sweats and sweatshirts along with a couple of baggy dress shirts and dress pants that I feel comfortable lounging around the tower or going out in, because they cover me completely and hide my plushness from the prying and judging eyes of other people.

I've been wearing the same outfits on rotation for the past month or two instead of wearing the new dresses or skirts I said I loved and fit good when he bought them for me, even when they were a bit snugger and showed more skin than I'd like them to. But at the time they seemed like a great idea to get because while they were a bit snug, they were beautiful, soft, and lovely material that highlighted my figure and bust. But lately I haven't been as confident as I was when I first got those outfits and wore them around and out and about.

But now looking at myself in these dresses, skirts, and tight shirts they just show to much of me and dont look right on my body anymore, they show too many of my rolls and plushness. "You need more than a measly few outfits to wear love and you know it. If those clothes we bought didn't fit comfortably you should have just said something and we could have gotten a different style or size for you that would have been more comfortable."

He says with a sigh not budging about going shopping and seemingly pouting that I didn't tell him about the clothes not fitting comfortably until now especially since some of the ones I'm refusing to wear are his personal favorites. "I don't think they have any bigger sizes." I muttered. "Hmm what was that?" "Nothing give me a minute to get ready and we can go." I said heading to our shared bedroom to put some light makeup on, tame my hair, and change out of my sweats.

Once I'm finished I walk out and over hear Tony talking to someone so I stay behind the corner to eavesdrop. "Yeah Y/n and I are planning on going on a quick shopping spree but I'll see if she wants to go to afterwards and meet up with everyone and maybe I can talk her into getting a new bikini while we're out to wear to the beach."

"Okay we'll see you there but don't try to trick her into wearing anything she isn't comfortable with Tony." I think that was Steve he was talking to and said "we'll" see you there so is the whole team going to be there? If it's just us that could be fun but last time the "private" beach we went to was anything but. Luckily I had my one piece on and could cover up with my towel. Tony takes any opportunity and turns it into a party. "Me!?! Trick her! Never!" He said sounding appalled making me giggle and reveal my hiding spot.

Knowing very well that he's always up to something and trying to get me to do all kinds of crazy things from experiments in the lab, to getting me drunk from the expensive alcohols that he loves but I can't really stand the taste of. Knowing I was busted I walked around the corner and kissed Tony on the cheek from behind. "Oh there you are Y/n! Are you ready to go sweetheart?" He asks smirking at me with playful look for catching my eavesdropping. "Yeah I'm ready."

(Small timeskip to the shopping center.)

"Oooh I like this one!" Tony says swinging around showing me a nearly see threw black button up shirt with a plunging neckline. "Tony that's basically see threw I can't wear that!" I said embarrassed cheeks heating up at the thought of anybody seeing me in something like that. "Yes you can, if you only wear it for me!" He says with a cheeky grin. I sigh and continue look it through the rack of clothes in front of me.

Most if not all of these clothes are way to small for me. I sigh and continue down the isle looking for cute but comfy clothes that won't hug my body. Which is proving to be more and more difficult with nothing being in my size, and with Tony only picking out provocative clothing. I'm feeling more discouraged and upset by the minute deciding to give up on finding anything today I turn to tell Tony let's just go to the bathing suit store to pick out a new bathing suit for the "not a party at the beach" he managed to convince me into going to.

Until I see Tony with an armful of clothes that upon further investigation are a bunch of outfits I wanted to get but were way to small for me to wear there must be 20 something outfits in his arms while he's talking to the sales associate. "Hi, yes I need all of these 3-4 sizes bigger." He says dumping the clothes into her arms. Looking closer it looks like he got the biggest ones of each outfit which would only need to be 2-3 sizes bigger to fit me well. "I'm sorry sir but these are as big as we carry and besides these would just be a waste on someone like her if that's who their meant for. I mean no offense but they wouldn't even fit like they were made to on someone of her size." She spat sounding irritated and disgusted not apologetic by any means.

"The way they fit, or look, are up to her to decide. Not you or anyone else and say something like that again and I'll have your job by the end of the hour. So again I would like all of these 3-4 sizes bigger so they are comfortable for my girl over there." He motions to me with his head looking as pissed off as he sounds, and the way he said 'my girl' was very possessive. My eyes widen and my face heats up from embarrassment from what she said and the confrontation in general but I'm touched and happy with how he's defending me.

"And if you don't have any bigger sizes then custom tailor it to fit. If you need her measurements I'll send them to you. Here's my card and I expect to be contacted by the end of the day with all of these resized and ready for pickup." The women looks deathly pale after taking and reading the card realising she just offended Tony Stark. Knowing that his threat to her job moments ago was in fact real and emanate if she didn't comply. Seeing her so petrified makes a part of me smug knowing next time she'll think before she speaks at least.

"Yes! Right away, I'm so sorry sir they will be ready by the end of the day! You can pay for them then. I'll be right back." She squeaks out and runs off with the clothes with her head down and tail tucked between her legs hopefully feeling as embarassed and upset as am from her comments. I wrap my arms around my self with head down now that she's gone I feel tears pricking the edges of my eyes hearing her say that just proved what I've been thinking about myself is true that I'm so big that it's repulsive to be this size, hell I can't even fit into a single thing in this entire store without it being tailored to fit, that should say something.

"Hey don't listen to her sweetheart she's just jealous I'm with you and not her. Everything she said was just a spiteful lie trying to get under your skin." He says lifting my head up and wiping under my eyes where a few silent tears slipped past without me knowing. He kisses me softly and hugs me tucking me under his chin while his hands rub up and down my back. I snuggle closer with my eyes closed holding him tight. "C'mon Y/n let's go pick out that swim suit!" He says sounding excited and let's go of me grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the store and down to the next trying to get my mind off of the rude sales associate.

(Another small time skip where we just arrived at the beach.)

"Hey you guys made it!" Steve runs up in just his swim trunks, hair wet, and sand sticking to him like someone pushed him down onto the sandy shore of the beach just moments before. "Yeah we're just gonna go set up our stuff then we'll join you guys in the water." Tony replies with his arm wrapped around me. Steve smiles and nods then runs off down the beach. I'm not sure about getting into the water looking around there's a lot of strangers here all swarming the infamous Avengers wanting to get pictures with them or of them.

The beach isn't packed but it defiantly isn't as dead as it should be if just the team was here, and I don't want a rerun of what happened earlier especially now that Tony talked me into a bikini after all. Though I picked it out and hid it from his view until I changed into it. When I put it on and it actually fit really well supporting me and being snug but not tight when I wasn't expecting it to fit at all with just how small it looked, I couldn't just put it back and pick out a different one. (It's the bikini in the pic above.)

But thinking about it now I should have picked a much less revealing bikini, but I knew Tony would appreciate the colors if you know what I mean. So I put it on in the changing room and put my clothes back on over it, only taking the price tags up to the cashier so I could pay for it and said I wouldn't let him see it until we got here because I was worried I would loose my nerve and pick out another one piece bathing suit after all. Plus I knew that if I let him see me in it that we would never make it to the beach and would more than likely be banned from the store. So he's been rushing to get here and to get me out of my dress shirt and knee high shorts since I checked out at the store. "Hurry Y/n I can't wait to get into the water!" Tony yells twenty or so feet away and winks at me suggestively, dropping our things onto the sand not bothering to actually set anything up.

"Don't lie Stark you only want to see her in her new bikini! You don't really care about getting in the water!" Natasha yells back at him from a ways down the beach playing volleyball with Wanda and few other people I don't recognize against the boys. Both of them wearing their own bikinis. 'That's probably how Steve got covered in sand.' "How did you know about that?" He yelled back pouting harder than he would willingly admit, because she's seen me in my new bikini but he hasn't been aloud to. Natasha stopped playing and said something to a couple of the people I didn't recognize that were on her team and walked up with Wanda right behind her.

"Oh don't get your panties in a twist Stark she sent me and Wanda a few photos wanting some feed back before deciding which swim suit to get." She grumped at him. "But trust me you'll like what she picked out." Wanda said with a knowing smirk. My face heats up when his gaze locks with mine. "Oh I never doubted that I wouldn't like it. Now come on let's get into the water that's the whole point of going to the beach." He said pulling on my hand. "Fine but I have to take these clothes off and I'm not comfortable just stripping on the beach and you have get changed to."

I say holding my towel close to me nervous about showing so much of myself in front of everyone, especially in front of strangers. Tony not needing me to tell him twice took off to the changing rooms with his swim trunks yelling for me join him. "No way or I won't get to swim today! I'll change and be out in a few." I say while walking towards an empty room. I strip out of my clothes and look at myself in the full length mirror they had in the changing room. Feeling insecure and like this was a very bad idea all of a sudden.

Seeing all of my rolls and stretch marks in plain sight is making me feel ugly and disgusted with my self. I'm about to say hell with it all and put my clothes back on and say I'm feeling sick and that I want to go home even though Tony will know its a lie and will be worried about me, I can't handle this, I'm not ready, this is to much. That's when Tony's voice comes through the door. "Almost done in their my beautiful girl? You aren't going to keep me waiting all day are you? I could just come in there and get you if you'd prefer?" He purrs out but sounds worried.

I hurriedly wrap my towel around myself and unlock the door but I don't make a move to come out. "I'm not sure I can do this Tony. This is a bad idea I wanna go home." I'm hugging myself again degrading and upsetting thoughts are rushing through my head making me so overwhelmed that I don't notice Tony's in the changing room with me until he wraps his arms around me from behind making me jump. "Where's all of this coming from? Is it because of what that lady said earlier because she's wrong, so so wrong baby girl your beautiful in everyway!" I cringe trying not to cry knowing what he's saying is true but I can't help but let what she said and what I've been thinking lately get to me anyways.

I whimper and turn around in his arms letting him hold me again. "I'm sorry I don't know what's going on I've been more and more insecure lately for no real reason. That's why I don't wear those clothes you bought me anymore, they fit but they show to much of everything I hate and I wanted to cover up by wearing my old baggy clothes." I pull back looking up at him. Tony's silent for a moment looking at me with a thoughtful expression. "Well we'll just have to fix that now won't we?" He smiles softly grabbing my hand and leaning towards the door.

"Tony no I really don't want to go out there not like this at least." I say pulling back and looking down. "Like what? Your all covered up by your towel. I cant even see that little swim suit you bought earlier that I've been dying to see since we left the store. I love every single part of your body but if you don't want to go out there we don't have to. We can go home or stay right here in this changing room. Hell I bet if I text Capsicle he'll bring us something eat and drink then we can stay in here all day." I giggled at that imagining a confused and flustered Steve coming to the changing room bringing food and water.

"There's my girl." Tony coo's running his hands up my sides trying to tickle me. "Hey hey, No, Tony, Dont you dare!" I squeaked out jumping back hitting the wall of the changing room realizing I'm trapped my eyes widen and I'm about to yell at him again when he launches at me tickling me and I don't feel my towel falling while trying to squirm away laughing until I feel Tony's bare hands on my hips and he stops tickling me. I look up worried about the sudden stop in his "attack" and his silence until I see the desire in his eyes.

"As much as I absolutely love this." He leans close to my ear his grip tightening on my hips. "I'd love even more to see it off and on the floor." He kissed my neck once he finished. Making me gasp as heat floods my cheeks. He mumbles into my neck. "How about I show you just how beautiful you really are." Pressing his body up against mine nipping the sweet spot on my neck.

Let's just say I never got to go swimming in my new swim suit and Steve got more than just an eyeful when he came to check on us because we forgot to lock the door.

@lilacprincessofrecovery

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas : University Professors (in Love)

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Due to a long-standing feud between various Law and Science professors, the students from those respective degrees don’t get along very well. What better way to foster some good (or at least non-violent) relations between departments than to start a new science-in-law degree? 

Too bad the Law and Science professors - Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta, respectively - working on the course together hate each other's guts. 

(Well, until they fall in love.)

Oh and Izuku and Hitoshi are sleep deprived first years running on noodles and Redbull, but what else is new?

this is at a big ass, top tier university

all might is like, the david attenbourgh of this universe but he got injured on set and moved to teaching, he's not that relevant i just wanted to include him because hes a good man

so, aizawa is under all might in the science faculty hierarchy, but not by much considering how young he is. aizawas the animal physiology teacher and does shit tones of research with zoos and shelters for husbandry studies

now, the two big draws of this campus are like the wet sciences and their law section, but the whole campus is pretty swish: like if gatton and st. lucia were connected with land but still as weird as the other.

Now none of you know anything about my uni, so imagine not quite an Ivy League school, but still one of the fancier collages in your state, with a redneck agricultural campus slapped on. But the rednecks are liberals.

Now imagine they are run by the same people

so one of the law lectures retires and they get a new one! its mic! and now aizawa is already pissed. hes dealt with mic before riding his ass in ethics committees and honestly just making life harder for him than it had to be

and the university tells him to reduce the hostility between the two sides of the campus, they are going to be holding some law classes in the animal side and vice versa and aizawa is piiisssssedddd

and then they fucking, start a new animal science/law degree about animal ethics law and aizawa is flipping his fucking lid because all might is already the vet science-vet tech degree co-ordinator and since aizawa is so new, hes the highest-ranking person to not be a degree coordinator

so of course, hes the new degree coordinator

but oh no, nezu isnt done

hes coordinating with mic, and they are the two primary lecturers for the two first, second and third-year compulsory subjects so aizawa is having a mini breakdown rant at allmight in the staff room when mic bursts in to say hello

allmight shoves aizawa in the cupboard and nervously chats to mic as aizawa tries not to make a noise from where he was quickly shoved into a cupboard of skeletons. hes internally saying sorry to the skeleton of that one tutor who donated himself to the uni. mic leaves, allmight helps him out and aizawa is just caught between pissed and flustered tbh

so the science people band together to allow aizawa to drown his sorrows in the nice food on the other side of the campus

and they have fucking, disguised aizawa

hes in one of nemuri's wigs, a pair of sunglasses from snipe and one of the nice lab techs named inko gave him a big puffy coat

and so this pack of science nerds is penguin huddle sprinting to the one ramen shop they all love, trying to hide aizawa from nezu, hizashi, and other random law students/lecturers hes pissed off

so allmight swears he sees hizashi but its nbd he only waves

so they get there, and all give aizawa sympathetic looks and buy him his lunch even though he insists he has money. inko the lab tech is there too bc i love her and she is aggressively mothering aizawa

when they are done they run back to the science side because no one has the courage needed to stop a hoard of sprinting scientists. also: nemuri is the chem lecturer and you should know that

its like the middle of the school year when this starts, so aizawa and hizashi have to scrap together this degree real fucking quickly

even though the both of them have Opinions about the other, they refuse to let their students suffer bc of how poorly planned this was so they knuckle the fuck down and bust out 1.5 years worth of content before the end of the year. they dont do much in person, mostly just emailing

aizawa is softer on mic bc they guy isn't horrific over email. unknown to him mic has developed a full-on crush on this guy

hes like, crying to joke "hes just,,, he wants to do good for his students you know? he isnt just a lecturer for the research money,,, he c a r e s,,,"

the whole god damn science faculty is mothered by the head lab animal tech, inko and they see her fretting about one day, and its turns out this whole fucking time shes had a son and didn't want to say anything bc she didn't wanna impose

(yagi has a big ol crush on her but nbd)

and so shes surrounded by all these nerds asking ab izuku and how old he is, and what he likes to do and they've never seen her happier rambling about her son. She tells them she let slip ab the new degree a little early, and izuku wants to be in it so badly and everyone is real soft

hes graduating next year, so thats even more motivation for aizawa to buck up and make this degree work bc he knows one of the kids now, and from what inkos told him, the boys a good kid

the entire faculty has already adopted izuku

one thing she hasn't mentioned ab izuku is that hes got chronic fatigue syndrome

aka izuku is constantly exhausted, his immune system is a bit shit, and hes in chronic pain that isnt affected by painkillers, other symptoms can just like, pop up, its pretty not understood

anyway, thats the reason izuku wants to get into animal law, not vet practise, bc hes not sure he'll always be able to physically pick up the animals and he doesnt wanna do them like that

anyway, its near the end of the year and its time to set the OP threshold. I have 0 idea how you guys get into uni, but an OP is basically: your grades are ranked, then your subjects are ranked, then your school is ranked by a fancy test. Your OP is the score from 1-25 you get with all that jazz. 1-5 is like: you can do almost anything. 1 is like doctors, vets, law. 1-15 is pretty respectable, under than you might need to do a little fuckery to get into a course.

mic is pushing for like, 10, bc its a new degree

but aizawa isn't having that. op 2 or he wont sign off on it and mic doesnt understand why and aizawa just turns towards him

"im not having animals suffer lower standards than humans. standard law is an op 1. vet science is an op 1. im already making a concession here."

mic swoons a little tbh, they eventually agree on op 5

anyway, izuku has an op 2 so its nbd for him, inko is so proud of her boy! aizawa has a little "thank fuck" moment bc he really did want this kid to get in bc he sounded like a good kid. also, mic's nephew shinso is in the first class! aizawa is actively trying not to remember the kids name so he isn’t a dick to him for 0 reason

there is like a grand total of 80 people in this degree which honestly isnt that bad

super high rate of externals tho, so there are only 50 students on campus

20 students in the campus dorms

izuku is one of them, he was gonna get in anyway but they put him in and gave him a nice first floor room bc making the poor guy walk up and down stairs for no reason is just mean

hes in self-catered bc while hes not super picky, hes allergic to some stuff, and some other stuff makes him sick, so no dining hall

shinso is his nextdoor neighbour. hes in self-catered bc he put his form in late and thats the only spot they had left! he cant cook so save his actual life.

so, mirio is the ra and hes a big soft 4th-year vet, he works out to give the dogs hugs

amajiki is his neighbour he has a cat - i mean - very loud fish (aka: no pets other than fish allowed)

when mirio likes people, he just,,, puts a cat in their face, and insists its a fish until they get it

that cats name is guppy i don’t make the rules

ok so, izuku and shinso meet and bond a bit in freshers’ week (think hazing, but gentle, with loads of games and forced bonding), but shinso is intimidated bc izuku is smiley and social and has loads of friends

and that does a 180 when he gets back to his room after a late-night walk, seeing izuku crying in the kitchen as he waits for the kettle to boil because a hot water bottle is the only thing that might stop his arms from aching

and shinso like, hides bc he gets not wanting people to know what's wrong but from then one he is SUPER protective of izuku

anyway, end of the week izuku confesses that he has chronic pain so he might be a bit grumpy sometimes and shinsou has to be like "oh its nbd" when one day he almost smacked their other neighbour with a piece of frozen steak bc he was making too much noise in the morning when izuku got to sleep really late

on the weekend they play videogames and make popcorn as the other kids go home, and they get visited by inko and Hizashi

inko is mothering izuku and has two very fat rats in her arms that she dumps on him and he lights up

see: izuku isnt allowed pets. but no one said anything about inko

so she got the two softest, dumbest, babiest rats shes ever seen and they live on her desk now. and shinso is like "SONs" and they have rats in their jumpers while all 3 of them play mariokart

hizashi stops by to help shinso cook bc he admitted hes only been eating frozen shit. izuku is gently telling him off bc he could have helped! but shinso is like "no i needed to maintain my cool vibes" so hizashi gently grabs izuku, sets up the two chairs like fluffy thrones and they order shinso around the kitchen like hes a servant

shinso is loosing his actual mind laughing and so is izuku. they force him to make katsu curry and eat it in the kitchen on their thrones while shinso sits on a shitty box fridge. there are more chairs left, hes being extra

so, first day of classes, they have principals of law first, izuku drags his pained ass out of bed and he and shinso make their way to class, both freezing fucking cold holding mugs of hot drink

they sit down

the lecturer is mic

izuku is losing his shit and shinso is like "oh yeah didnt i tell you?" and izuku is trying not to cackle/punch him. he waves sheepishly at mic who waves back with great enthusiasm

mics first class is just

KAHOOT

it’s not even law-related, it’s just random bs animal facts

shinsos name is c a t s and hizashi is losing his mind bc izuku set his name as d o g s r b e t t e r

the lectures r live-streamed so the external students can join in real-time and monomas on the other end like s n a k e

hizashi is losing his actual m i n d, everyone just has variations of their favourite animal

also pwease during this lecture mic is just chatting w the students ab whats going to happen, sees izukus mug of tea and says

"ok and just so everyone knows, please feel free to eat and drink in my lectures, just dont let anyone know i said that

"sir this is being recorded"

"shhhhh"

pls bakugous that one asshole that whips out a full course meal and starts distributing it amongst his squad. bakugo is just a plain law student, but there are some plain law students taking this course as an elective

mic honestly looks bakugo in the eyes, and orders pizza for everyone but him. hes standing in font of the mic so its fucking recorded too. izuku is cackling

ok so, they have an hour break and go to the cafe, inko crashes and smuggles them outside, and gives them the rats

inko and izuku aren't super well off financially bc they are saving for a service dog and its EXPENSIVE, even tho inko makes ok money, husband divorced her bc izuku was sick, izuku has issues, was bullied in school, has had cfs for ages

so inko has these rats bc she "liberated" them from the end of a cosmetics trial she heped nemuri run and nerumi stood infront of the secruity camera and closed her eyes

anyway, next lecture is aizawa's

shinso has vaguely heard ab the guy from hizashi and desperately wants to sit in the back row. izuku has heard ab the guy vaguely from inko and desperately wants to sit in the front row. izuku wins bc they walked in through the lower door and shinso doesnt wanna make the guy walk up all those steps

aizawa walks in, nicely says hello to shinso, izuku and the over kid in the front row, tells the people in the back row that if they think he cant see or hear them from there they have another thing coming, and immediately starts talking ab how many people working in animal-related fields and in law are depressed

izuku raises his hand, while shinso is aggressively trying to pull it down

"yes, kid?"

"what if you're already depressed, professor?"

aizawa pauses, turns off the mic and loses his shit quietly behind his desk, shinso is red and trying to hide, izuku looks proud of himself. aizawa gets himself together, coughs, and turns the mic back on

"seems we had a bit of a technical difficulty, continuing on"

and the whole room loses their shit, and aizawa is grinning like an idiot but his voice is the same pissed monotone as usual

just have to Be There for aizawas lectures like everyone who doesn’t show up is like :///// idk why y’all like him so much he’s kinda boring and izukus like No you have to Be There

in Person

everyone thinks the guy is a boring old man who keeps breaking his computers. in reality, hes like 26, really tired, and keeps losing his shit so hard he turns off the mic so No One Can Know

one time he walked in in hot pink leggings and when he asked "any questions?" ochako (a vet tech student in the class) ask "sir where did you buy those because they look amazing" "the internet, ochako. any other questions."

and bc you cant hear the students all the externals are trying to work out what the question was. it becomes a meme

last day of lectures they all show up in matching leggings. aizawas soft but he Refuses to show them. they fucking found the site he bought them from, all of them have pink leggings in increasingly vibrant shades

shinso's are like, lilac

izukus are eyebleeding, highlighter pink

anyway! mic likes to share the tea from behind the scenes

and so they learn ab the "really sweet department head with a crush on a lab tech" and izuku loses his shit. puts his hand up, and mic says "yeah?"

izuku clambers out of his seat, asks mic to turn the recording off, takes the mic and stares down the class

"that lab tech in my mum and shes smitten for this guy. totally smitten."

'ooOH SHIT REALLY?"

izuku just grins and nods

"ok class, extra credit. can we go through this uni's stance on dating co-workers. anyone who gives me a quick, sighted explanation of whether or not we can hook these two up gets 5% of their final mark, no questions asked"

fuckin, izuku is so on board with this, and tells hizashi he'll leave the assignments on inkos table at home if he wants, the whole class gets so fucking into it

anyway, after all that jazz izuku spots yagi and inko out for coffee together and reports it as a win, the class cheers

as an aside: hizashi is very open ab the fact hes one of 2 degree coordinators but he hasnt mentioned the second

its also very obvious he has a crush on the second, and that hes a little older than them (hizashi is 32, shouta is 26) now, literally no one thinks aizawa is the other

bc hes 26, and wears fucking pink leggings to lectures. hes like, hes baby. hes so small, so young, takes his cat to class in a backpack

its literally only the externals who think he could be bc they think hes like 50. aizawa has the curse of just having great fucking bone structure, hes really god damn hot. half of their love letters pages is people thirsting over him and hes so mad ab it. he doesnt brush his hair and wears dumb clothes but apparently, that makes him relatable or some shit

anyway, hizashi is off-topic talking ab the lab tech that mothers the other course coordinator and shinso sees izuku perk up

they guy has been looking out of it all morning bc hes having a bad day, but wanted to go to lectures. anyway, after the lecture hes scrambles over to hizashi and asks

"oh my god is the other coordinator professor aizawa”

"damn, what gave it away"

"mum mothers him because he never eats and he apparently looks like hes barely 20, which is false, but thats mum for you"

once they get out of lectures izuku is like

"shinso. shinso"

and shinso looks lost

"you know what this means, shinso""

"no. no i dont"

"MATCH MAKING TIME"

#bnha au #professors in love au #aizawa shouta #aizawa #eraserhead #erasermic #present mic #yamada hizashi #midoriya izuku #midoriya #izuku #shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shindeku #if you squint