we don't need a boop button. we can just do something like this:

reblog to boop prev

do your ever get excited to see certain mutuals in your notes like yes i pleased the Friend

You find a girl crying next to a grave. “What’s wrong?” You ask. She cries harder. “Nobody came to my funeral.”

Night watchman at a cemetary isn’t the kind of job most people want. I’ve always liked it, though. It’s pretty peaceful, most of the time, which is nice. Sometimes I get to chase off teenagers or would-be occultists or obnoxious drunks, which is fun. There’s a lot of entertainment in a good chase, at least for me, and scaring the crap out of them is fun too.

Sometimes it gets sad, though.

It was my first walkthrough of the night when I saw the girl weeping beside the grave. It happens sometimes, and I never chase them. The cemetary is for the dead and the grieving. They’re always welcome here.

I went over to her, careful to keep the grave between us so I wouldn’t scare her. “What’s the matter?” I asked gently. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head, still weeping. “No-one came to my funeral,” she sobbed. “No-one at all.”

I checked the stone. She’d been about seventeen. An age of strong emotions and fierce resentments. “I’m sorry,” I told her, and meant it. “That’s… always hard.”

“If they cared about me, they would have come,” she wept. “This means nobody cared at all.”

“Not always,” I told her gently. “Sometimes it means that something else happened. If you like, I can try to find out.”

“Really?” She wiped her eyes. “I’d… I’d appreciate that. I’m Lucy.”

“Stanley.” She couldn’t shake hands, so I gave her a friendly nod. “Come with me, Lucy. I’ve got a laptop in the watchman’s hut.”

She followed me, drifting silently, back to the hut. I brought her in, and made two cups of tea, offering her one. “I’m not solid,” she said, her lip quivering. “I can’t -“

I showed her how to take it, the ghostly echo of the solid cup, and told her I’d learned it from the day attendant over at the columbarium. She’s Korean, and knows a lot about hungry ghosts. She sipped her tea while I opened the laptop and ran the usual searches.

I do this a lot.

Sure enough, there’d been three major car accidents between the area she’d lived in and the cemetary. There’s almost always at least one - there’s this one intersection that no exorcism, ritual purification or cleansing spell has ever worked on - and it usually helps. A lot of spirits want to know why someone they loved didn’t come.

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tumblr is so beautiful bc ur mutuals can convince you to watch house bc they repost ship art of old man yuri but really its a show about some doctors

Blooming in Asakusa.

Tokyo, Japan.

Me: Alright I’m going to be super productive tomorrow!

Me, the second my alarm goes off:

i love consuming media and making little things about it

i love you fanfic i love you gifsets i love you spotify playlists i love you intertextuality i love you pinterest boards i love you fanart i love you video edits i love you headcanons i love you text posts i love you blorbos

zero context WIP game! thanks for the tags @killerandhealerqueen and @fourth-quartet 🥰🥰

i'm playing fast and easy with the rules of this one (which you can find here). instead, you'll find numbered snippets from a bunch of WIPs i am 75-90 per cent done but ambivalent about which to update first. gahan readers, what interests you most?

--

1. even gods can't change the past

gaon stares listlessly at the stickers lining the base of the night lamp. despite repeated disinfectings, they haven't come off, dinosaurs, trucks, sparkly muffins. things he had put there to make their hospital stay livelier. 

'i guess we're even now,' soohyun says, quiet and mostly to herself. 

gaon thinks for a while. 'chief jo?' he guesses. soohyun had a girlish fascination with her mentor that in turn made the normally gruff man go tongue tied. 

'what -- no. jishin,' she says as if this explains anything. when gaon looks over at his wife sitting on the bed beside him, she looks guilty, sad, and relieved. the guilt is most prominent. 

'what --' says gaon, having to swallow because his mouth is suddenly dry. 'are you talking about?'

----

2. unnamed modern strangers in a bar au

the stranger backs gaon up until he hits the brick wall behind them, none too gently. but the man pays no attention to this. he looks at gaon with desire both ferocious and unyielding. 

'this husband of yours,' says the stranger angrily, sliding his hands into gaon's thick hair and keeping them there. 'you talk about him like he walks on water but he's only a man.'

'he's my world,' replies gaon breathlessly, eyes fixed on the man's mouth. then the stranger is kissing him. 

---

3. omega spin-off of enantiomers

gaon spins in yohan's arms so they're back to chest, before sensuously dragging himself down yohan's front until he's crouched at yohan's feet. yohan's hands tighten around his when gaon looks up at him from the floor, smilingly and with heat. 

'that look is why i put a baby inside you the first time around,' yohan says, stroking gaon's hands. there's a hint of warning to his tone. and desperation. he can't be held responsible for what he does if gaon keeps this up. 

gaon laughs delightedly.

of course, that's when the bedroom emits a wail that filters down the hallway and into the living room.

--

4. everything everywhere all at once

soohyun's eyebrows go up in shock. 'you still love him,' she says accusingly. 'not just that -- you want to go back to him. your parents died because of kang yohan!' she yells this last part, stomping her feet in enraged helplessness. 

'good people die without good reason,' gaon replies, feeling his cheeks redden.

she looks at gaon like he's grown another head. 'are you listening to yourself right now? you'll forgive kang yohan, and for what? he broke your heart. you were devastated for weeks!'

'i'm not selfless, soohyun-yah. not like you,' gaon replies, voice cracking. he searches for the words, pulling them from deep inside him. 'after appa died, i kept the restaurant open to prove that i could. helping people came after. but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep dragging on like everything is normal when seeing how fucked up everything is is destroying me.'

soohyun visibly swallows her words, letting gaon finish. 

'i hurt,' gaon whispers, 'all the time. i'm so angry. it's like looking into an abyss but now it looks back at me. being with yohan makes me feel safe, like i'll survive this. like there's more to living than just pain.'

soohyun hunches over at the knees and hugs herself. 'why does it have to be kang yohan?' she says miserably.

'i don't know.' gaon approaches, choreographing his intent. he pulls her into a hug when she doesn't resist. 'it's fucked up. i'm fucked up but i miss him terribly.'

'what if he breaks your heart again?' she sniffles against gaon's chest, voice going flat with inevitability. 

'he might,' gaon admits, squeezing her in final consolation. 'but i'll go my whole life regretting it if i don't try.'

--

5. elevator troubles

‘bujangnim?’ gaon asks, knocking on the heavy wooden door for appearance’s sake before striding in. but yohan’s not there.

the sound of his harsh breathing fills the office. he makes his way over to where late afternoon sunlights spills through the floor to ceiling windows and stares at the traffic twenty stories below, tiny trucks and tinier people. 

he's livid. if he could, he would shatter every single window of this ministry building with the frequency of his rage.

a hand slips over his eyes, cooling their heat and blocking his vision. a body follows behind. 

‘shhh,’ rumbles yohan in gaon’s ear, moulding himself around gaon, silken wool and heat and support everywhere. his other hand lands on gaon's chest, over gaon's fast beating heart. 

gaon’s only reaction is a hitch in his breathing. his muscles remain tightly coiled, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

'he told me that my parents would be proud of me for doing the right thing,' gaon says with long pauses between into the red blackness. 'when he -- when he was the one who helped doh young choon --' he breaks off with a stifled sound, enraged.  

yohan's joyless chuckle rumbles through gaon's body. 'min jung ho is a viper.' his inflection doesn't change when gaon grabs his wrist. 'down to his venomous words.'

'what gives him the right,' gasps gaon, eyes turning wet with frustrated tears under yohan's palm. he presses back into yohan's body. 

'none,' says yohan simply. 'just as he has no right to dispense justice.'

'i want to hurt him, so, so badly,' gaon confesses, pulling yohan's hand away. 

‘we will,’ says yohan. 

future promises aren't enough. gaon whirls around. 'now, yohan.' he pushes the unresisting older man backwards until yohan's thighs hit the heavy oak table. 'i want to destroy him now.' 

---

6. my heart goes back to you, i just don't know

trigger warning, beware.

jung sunah pulls gaon’s face up with a fistful of silky, dark hair. gaon’s pupils are blown wide. yohan catches a peek of red tongue as gaon swallows, sweat beading along the younger man’s temple. yohan knows this expression from when he looked into the mirror all those weeks ago after jung sunah had ambushed him. 

she drugged gaon.

yohan watches with a foreboding feeling as jung sunah simply stares at gaon. the hunger on her face is…not good. she cocks her head, hand traveling to gaon’s panting mouth. yohan watches her fit two perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted rouge into the seam of gaon’s mouth; feels somehow worse when gaon doesn’t resist. 

‘he’s nothing! a means to an end,‘ barks yohan. he sounds affected because he is. he knows what’s happening here, what jung sunah is making him a bystander to.

she ignores this. ‘you know, i never liked giving blowjobs,’ she says conversationally. ‘they’re demeaning. the power differential is obvious. men enjoy it.’  she tilts gaon’s face up using the fingers in his mouth.

gaon pants heavily, eyelashes turning wet as he blinks slow and hard. ‘seeing kim pansanim on his knees makes me understand the appeal of it.’

‘is that why you brought him here?’ yohan asks, thinking quickly. ‘to get to me?’

‘you put your hand on his shoulder on live television,’ she replies in a faraway voice, but yohan can read her now.

--

tagging @technitango @tenderlywicked @rocknghorss @thedeviljudges @briwates @mid-n0vember @eyesof-kkomi feel free to pass ofc and if you are a writer who enjoys being tagged, lmk so i can include you in the future

I’m so emotional about dinosaur stuffed animals,,, there are these creatures, extinct long before any of us were alive, but we found their bones and their eggs and their footprints. And we made drawings and models of what they could’ve looked like. And we made them into stuffed animals so we could hold them. We made them soft so we could love them. I’m sobbing

Yeah, we're the animal so preoccupied with petting other animals we're sort of collectively upset there are animals we never get to pet, so we make proxies to snuggle and tell their ghosts we'd have loved them if they were here.

...and tell their ghosts we'd have loved them if they were here.

Hang on i just have to cry for a minute

(by gammsystrar)

fuck it homebrew boop button. reblog this post to boop the person you reblogged from.

try it!

male euthalia adonia | source

i hate giving writing advice but i LOVE talking ABOUT writing and why i do the things i do in my writing however unfortunately saying “please ask me questions about writing” makes me sound demanding. alas.

People talk about the surprise albums from people like Taylor Swift or Beyoncé that drop with zero warning but I have just been existing in this world where every album I've ever heard in my life has been a surprise album because I didn't know that musicians had schedules that we could see

Everything is a surprise when you don't pay attention