dylonthesia

Latest Posts by dylonthesia

can anybody else hear it calling or is it just me and these wayv dudes

Die temu ad die

I’m laughing so hard so Aldi ended a contract with this onion seller because they jacked their prices and then they printed the middle finger on all their onions to Aldi after their contract ended can you IMAGINE being this petty

I hate the “open floor plan” that everyone is obsessed with in houses now. I want nooks and crannies and bizarre floor plans. I don’t need to be able to see what someone is doing on the other side of the house. I want places to hide and lurk and dwell in the shadows. I am the beast who awaits in the labyrinth

Not now kitten, daddy has to write fanfic about a jhutch character from 12 years ago

Teeth are bullshit. What do you mean you’re decaying. Get a fucking grip. You’re a bone now act like it. You don’t see my finger bones decaying from jerking it too much now do you

hm

If you don’t let me yap to you, I will yap at you. And that is a threat.

Deadlifted 405. 3 reps 8 sets.

do you ever see a post so good that resonates with you so deeply you mourn that you were never bright enough to think of it yourself

I'll close my eyes, be ten again

I'll find the safety in a grin

That yellow boy, a tender soul

I'll find the love the years all stole

I'll clench my fists, attack the clock

Bludgeon the seconds with will and rock

I'll run to a time safer than this—

Gather up the gifts I miss

I'll shout at a god who never writes back

I'll call him a monster, a demon, a hack

Deface the altar, rip up the pews

That place isn't heaven, it's just refuse

MANIAC : haechan & doyoung

crazy girl, my feelings are deeper than they seem

im good at downplaying

but you're mine, and i love you just as you are

tear stained face and all.

we have scraped knees 

and it hurts but we both bear these cuts

so it doesn’t sting quite as much 

when the antiseptic hits the wound.

i just want to scream out to the world,

you are mine! all of me, all of you!

if you ever read this, i'd die of embarrassment.

— dylon's words

ONE MORE HOUR : tame impala

delinquent bliss;

whatever ive done, there is explainable justice

reasoning, getting tied up in ones lies

all a part of this existence.

what else does one need?

life is perfect, fingers cut on shards

as my heart palpitates and the gold runs dry.

if you'll bear with me, i'll give you the world.

before that, though, you'll see my tears

and the way my shoulders shake when i get hysterical.

i am compromise and trust.

— dylon's words

EVERYBODY TALKS : neon trees

im an ugly boy and you are too.

we're lithe like ugly trees, we move so good.

my cheeks are smudged with blush, your fault!

why'd you make me so happy? ugly boy, lovely boy.

damn you, perfect boy.

the shed falls apart, scared of our partnership.

you bit me, you stupid boy. 

silly boy, dance with me now

because the world is fucked and so are we.

— dylon's words

— the little name · adora

why'd i feel so empty? i can call all day, i can cry until i have nothing left and use up all the light until the sun sets in streaks of blood, leaving the hours bared, stripped down, ripped away violently from their former glory — hey, just like us.

and like the sky when it pours rain and stars, the feelings come flooding in and knock me over from the floor where i’m still on my knees; on my knees from the intensity of my feelings, on my knees because the memories of you still exist, tangible, beautiful and oh, what an excellent accident of stardust.

oh, i’m high from this, i’m happy for this — that little time, those little moments that aged and turned into what we can now call the past, and now i remember them in a new, rose-tinted light.

like i said, little memories, a forgotten morning in which i’d have overlooked you, in a scene all too familiar, and the dust swirled like a storm and when it cleared . . . you were standing there saying hello.

hello again, and then our eyes locked.

and feelings unfolded. delicate, liquid glass

breakable, new

but oh, it was so,  so,  perfect.

and so . . .

⠀⠀⠀⠀can i have your name?

mmm.

saudade. saudade, saudade, and sillage.  kalopsia. kalopsia, kalopsia, and hiraeth.

time; preserved in dust; and love; preserved in time.  oh, let me go back to what i never had . . .

⠀⠀⠀⠀can i have your name?

let go. close your eyes.  look. not at what you lost, not what you don’t have

not at what you could’ve had.

but what you do. who you are.

look at your eyes, how they shine quicksilver underneath the streaming moonlight, how they glow gold in the late afternoon, when the air cools a little and you wear that deep blue hoodie that brings out the laughter in your smile.

yeah, your smile. the one that stretches across your entire face. the one that shows in your eyes more than anywhere else because fuck, i’ve never seen eyes glitter so brightly. yeah, the one that people turn to stare at because it’s just so fucking gorgeous.

fan your fingers out in the cold breeze and take pride in being who i am — know it, laugh at it and acknowledge that the laughter isn’t a satirical one, but rather one of wonder. that it’s the type born of golden sunsets and smoky stars swept aside against the backdrop of the moments that flit and make up your life — because you’re the star.

you’re my stars, you’re my skies, you’re you, and that’s exactly right.

because for a few shining seconds, you’re the sun. because i never knew the sun could exist in someone’s eyes before i met you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can i have your name?"

twitter changing their logo to doge really solidified how much of a garbage fire of a website it has become.

it’s difficult to be a dom with anarchist leanings.

my sub will be like “i have to tell you something… i broke a rule. i’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit.” and i’m like. rise up comrade you have nothing to lose but your padded restraints. no doms no masters. oh you want me to spank you. yeah i can do that.

the trolley problem but instead it’s a catboy or a werewolf 

tumblr added another secret feature. if you make a post and just type "gullible", it turns it into a different message. tell me which one you got!

handsome women covered in blood. reblog.

PSA:

1. If you are not silly, it is vital you become silly

2. If you are silly, you must stay silly

2. If you used to be silly but have stopped, you must make all efforts to return to silliness

alibi; the sun

pairing: haechan x you

genre: the beginning of the murder mystery. angst inevitably ensues. featuring pinches of smut.

warnings: mentions of murder, repeating mentions of suicide and mental health, alcohol consumption, mature audiences only

summary: when haechan discovers you dead the morning after the celebration of your friend group’s nine-year anniversary, his world turns upside down and dulls.

part one of my alibi series.

Haechan liked drinking. But he hated being hungover.

He woke up on the island. Between accidentally rolling over onto the kitchen floor and his throbbing headache, the latter hurt more.

The house was still quiet when he roused. Not surprising. The six of you must have gone on a bender. Nobody drank more than you, though. You were even stealing other people’s glasses.

That much Haechan remembered. Though not much else.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Johnny teased when he slipped into the kitchen.

Haechan winced when Johnny switched on the lights. “How much did I drink?”

“You tried to do a keg stand,” Johnny said, tone laced with amusement. He may have been the only one to remain sober that night. “Between you and the chug queen, I don’t know who was worse. Speaking of which, you should go wake her and the boys.”

Haechan bobbed his head slightly. “Sure. Whatever. I’m going to get a glass of water first.”

“Help yourself. You know where the medicine cabinet is.”

Johnny sauntered into the living room.

Haechan took his sweet time to dart upstairs. I’ll never drink a sip of alcohol again, he inwardly vowed in spite of knowing it was bullshit, because that was what he told himself the last time he went on a drinking binge.

By the time he went upstairs, his headache soothed ever so slightly. He headed straight for the guest room, knowing Johnny would have lent it to you. No doubt you were still asleep, but waking you up was dangerous, and Haechan was nothing if not a man of mischief.

The door to the guest room creaked open and as expected, you were out like a light.

Haechan leaned on the door and called out playfully, “Rise and shine, olympic drinker.”

You didn’t move a muscle. The alcohol must have really done a number on her, Haechan thought to himself. He stumbled inside and tried to shake you awake, yelling loud enough to wake the others, but you didn’t even open your eyes.

That was the second Haechan started to fret. Usually by now you would have pulled the sheets over your head, light-sensitive, and screamed profanities for all to hear. But you were still. Too goddamn still. It was unnerving.

“Moonlight, stop playing around,” Haechan said, laughing, but there was a strong hint of nervousness to his voice.

He kept shaking you and shaking you, but it was as if the harder he shook, the less responsive you were. Finally he noticed the note in your hand hit the ground. He slipped it between his shaky fingers, skimming the paper, and his heart promptly dropped to his ass.

Haechan grabbed your arm and checked you for a pulse. Nothing. He shook you again. You didn’t wake. He screamed for you to wake up. You wouldn’t even snore. Your chest was still, not undulating.

Some of his sense was still intact and Haechan made a beeline for the stairs, charging towards the living room. The sound of his heavy feet thudding alone woke a few of the boys.

“Give me your phone,” Haechan demanded, earning a curious glance from Johnny.

Johnny gave him a look and asked, “Did you wake her?”

“She’s not waking up,” Haechan said darkly, eyeing Johnny expectantly.

“What do you mean she’s not waking up?”

Haechan cradled his face in his hands. He was way too hungover for this shit. “There was a note. I checked her pulse. She’s not breathing.”

Johnny shot up quicker than ever and instantly handed Haechan his phone. “Call nine-one-one,” Johnny said and ran upstairs.

Haechan’s fingers trembled with terror as he tried to dial emergency services. He could hardly breathe himself. He was deliriously in shock. He was in pain. His breath wouldn’t come. Fear spread ignited over.

Renjun heard all the raucous and carried himself downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he asked, “What’s going on?”

Tears stung Haechan’s eyes. “She’s gone.”

That happened days ago. Now, Haechan had no more tears left to cry.

The ambulance pronounced you dead at the scene. Your death was ruled a suicide and sleeping pills were found in your system, but Haechan knew better. They all knew better. You wouldn’t kill yourself. And you weren’t stupid enough to mix sedatives with alcohol.

Which meant one other thing. Somebody else spiked your drink.

“That note was really something,” Haechan began. “But you have to be an idiot to think I’d believe she killed herself.”

He was speaking to nobody in particular, but each of them all at once. The boys had gathered again. Nobody was convinced by the apparent suicide. Least of all Haechan.

Haechan was your best friend. He liked to think that you would have told him if you were going through anything severe enough to resort to suicide. But you didn’t.

People faked smiles. People faked happiness. But not you. You ranted to Haechan when you were experiencing problems and crises. He would dry your tears and lend you a shoulder to cry on. For fuck’s sakes, you’d been friends for nine years. Haechan knew when you were struggling.

You had been a livewire only the night before you died. Nobody could calm you down. Haechan remembered dancing and laughing with you at least to some extent. He knew you were having a good time.

Not to mention the suicide letter was typed and sounded nothing like you. Haechan never wanted to imagine you at your lowest moments – although he had seen them all – but it bugged the living hell out of him. Why would you type your suicide note, instead of having it handwritten? And why the hell would you ever commit suicide at an anniversary gathering – no less?

It didn’t make sense. And it didn’t make sense, because you didn’t kill yourself.

Somebody else did.

“It’s out of character,” Ten added. “This whole thing is out of character, but a printed suicide letter? You have to be kidding.”

“One of you did this,” Haechan hissed, staring viciously amongst his friends.

Johnny chided, “Don’t go pointing fingers, Haechan.”

Haechan bristled and retaliated, “Do you have some other explanation for us then, John? An explanation that makes sense? Because I know my best friend did not kill her goddamn self!”

“We’re angry, too,” Johnny hissed. “But you need to simmer down.”

Haechan shook his head, walking back and forth in long strides. “She trusted us. I don’t understand how any of you could be so ruthless.”

Haechan scanned his very limited memories of that night. As the six of you grew older, you found your own niche environments. The distance wasn’t easy and you were more than glad to be reunited with your friends of nine years. You even flew out from your hometown.

Johnny had lent you the guest room for the weekend. You were supposed to have been home with your family by now. Haechan severely underestimated how difficult it would be to respond to the dumbfounded texts from your relatives when the hospital called them.

How could he tell them that he was just as confused as them?

You pressed your palm to your head. “Okay, I think I better sit down now. The room is spinning and your face looks weird upside down.”

Haechan snickered but never moved his hands from your hips, guiding you to the couch. You had been dancing to whatever song Johnny placed on his playlist. And he saw Yuta steal his phone to add a couple of songs too.

“Sure you don’t need a toilet?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. Really. Come sit with me.”

You patted the spot next to you and Haechan did as told, though not before shouting over the speaker, “Renjun, bring her a glass of water!”

Renjun was in the kitchen mixing some sort of hellbound cocktails like a drunk bartender and in that same millisecond Haechan noticed Ten clutch his stomach and run for the bathroom.

Haechan snapped out of his trance and stopped pacing to throw Renjun an accusatory look in his direction. “Renjun, you gave her water. Did you spike it?”

Renjun looked at Haechan in disbelief, as if he thought the allegations abruptly thrown against him were completely baseless. “Spike it with what, Haechan? I was drunk out of my goddamn mind. Ten’s the one that was hogging the bathroom! He could have taken the pills.”

“Well it’s a good thing I was too busy vomiting everything I ate,” Ten snarled.

Johnny kept his voice level, “Stop. This is getting us nowhere.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Ten suggested, gaining an immediate glance of disapproval from Johnny. “Maybe one of you will crack under pressure.”

A door slammed. Haechan’s eyes darted towards the back porch quick enough to notice Yuta’s figure creeping away through the window. Ever the perceptive person, he had noticed his friend’s perturbed state. Yuta had been lethally silent. Unnerved. And this whole pointless back and forth did nothing to soothe his unease.

Haechan wanted to be skeptical, though he understood. This whole situation was too damn much.

No agony he ever felt compared to the kind tearing at his chest as he was forced to accept you were - completely and irrevocably - gone.

Haechan took a deep breath and glanced at Johnny. This whole thing was driving him mad. He didn’t know who he was without you. The sun had no light to shine in this cold, unforgivably dark world. “What do we do?”

Johnny’s expression was lukewarm and inscrutable, and even Haechan couldn’t make head nor tail of what lay behind his poker face. Everyone looked to Johnny for help and answers, because he seemed to always know what to do. That was what he did. No matter the conflict, Johnny could be trusted to handle the issue.

And Haechan couldn’t think. Not rationally. He needed you back. He needed you to wreathe a warm hand around him and whisper in his ear that all would be fine.

But it wasn’t.

“We wait,” Johnny said matter-of-factly. “We observe the facts and keep the baseless accusations to a minimum. And we press. The truth will reveal itself with time. Whoever is guilty won’t be able to endure the pressure.”

Haechan said nothing because he knew he was out of options. No detective would investigate what was clearly a suicide. Not when all he had to go off of was a gut feeling and a sneaking suspicion. They needed more concrete evidence before they would take the case.

It made him bristle with anger, but he would never give up on you. Because Haechan knew you would never give up on him. You were a fighter. And goddamn it, he needed closure.

Never had his emotions been so scattered. So all over the place. He was wrathful. He was crestfallen. He was a well of dread and plagued by hatred. Haechan had never felt so helpless before in his entire life.

He may have been the sun, but you were his moon. He called you, “Moonlight.” You called him, “Sunshine.” It was a thing between just the two of you. There was no complete cycle without you.

He never realized how badly he needed you until you were gone. You were the quiet introvert whereas Haechan was the overwhelming extrovert. You seeked out a sort of balance in each other. You kept him whole and grounded while he pushed you out of your comfort zone.

Needless to say, that balance had been destroyed. He was nothing but a hell-raiser with your lack of presence.

No peace and quiet. No dead of night. Only an uproar.

There was a knock on the front door and it jolted Haechan out of his reverie. This time he had no clue what was happening. Judging from his friends’ faces, neither did they.

Until Renjun said, “I know we didn’t have any luck with the police, but I remembered that I know a guy. He’s a family friend. He agreed to investigate.”

Nobody protested. Especially not Haechan. He knew they needed all the help they could get. Somebody killed you and they would not get away with it.

Sensing no complaints, Renjun walked to the foyer to open the door. He returned only seconds later with a taller man at his side.

“This is Detective Zhao. He is a renowned detective in his field,” Renjun introduced respectfully.

Detective Zhao outstretched his palm and shook hands with the boys one by one. “Pleasure to meet you all. Although, given the circumstances…”

“Yeah,” Haechan finished. He didn’t need the reminder.

Renjun tapped the side of his thigh before shoving his hands into his pockets. “What first?”

“I want to speak to you all individually.”

Ten blurted, “Cops already did that.”

“The cops won’t ask all the same questions I will,” Detective Zhao replied placidly, brow cocked.

That was how Haechan found himself alone with the detective inside Johnny’s study. He kept his expectations in the dirt. The police had forced them through interrogation in spite of their spiraling shock and yet still came empty-handed. And Haechan couldn’t even say with confidence that any of his friends were trustworthy. Without you, he only had himself.

Haechan tapped his foot against the floor. His trust issues were already deep-seated, but with you dead and his friends the only reasonable suspects, they were diabolical now. He called himself only being cautious. You once called him a stereotypical Gemini.

“Hello, Haechan,” greeted the detective politely.

Haechan grumbled out a, “Hey.”

Detective Zhao scanned his papers. He was wearing spectacles now. “On the files, they call you Lee Donghyuck. But you do go by Haechan, correct?”

“It means Full Sun.” Haechan sank in his chair.

“I see. It’s a nickname of yours. I reckon you get called that a lot.”

Haechan gave a brusque nod, unable to see his point or how any of this was helpful. But he admitted, “She called me ‘Sunshine.’ I called her ‘Moonlight.’ It was our thing.”

Detective Hwang arched a brow. “You sound like you were very close.”

“Yeah,” Haechan murmured. Memories resurfaced. Feelings hit him tenfold. “She, the boys and I have known each other for nine years. But we were best friends. We told each other everything.”

The detective nodded understandingly. “So, you think she would have said something to you. You know, if she was struggling mentally.”

“I know she would have,” Haechan hissed. “She always did it before. I was there for her when she struggled. I always have been. She knew I wasn’t going anywhere.”

The detective gave a sympathetic look. “I see. Let’s take a few steps back for a moment. When you were interrogated by the police, what happened?”

Haechan shrugged, but replied like he was reading aloud a news article, “There was a standard protocol. They separated us and interrogated us individually. Our stories matched up. Then, they ruled it a suicide. Case closed.”

Detective Zhao couldn’t help but notice his bitter tone. “Did they interrogate the family? Try to understand her mental health prior to her death?” he asked.

“Dunno. She and her family aren’t from here. She flew out from her hometown to celebrate our group’s nine-year anniversary.”

Detective Zhao stroked his chin perplexingly. “And what would you say her behavior was prior to the suicide?”

Haechan almost laughed. He wanted to believe this was some humongous prank and everyone was fooling him. No way in hell was this a suicide. “She was happy,” he answered confidently. “She was in a great place mentally and emotionally. She recently landed a promotion. She got a new car. And she was smiling more than ever.”

“A smile isn’t a guarantee of happiness,” Detective Zhao reminded.

Haechan’s voice was sharp, “I know… I knew her. I knew her fake smiles from her real one. I could see pain in her eyes when it was there. I knew when she needed somebody.”

Detective Zhao tried to speak, but Haechan wouldn’t let him get a single word in.

“I’ve seen her at her lowest and I never want her to go through that hell again. She was the strongest woman I knew. She overcame it and I’m proud of her because that shit isn’t easy. Honest to god, she thought she could overcome anything and everything.”

The detective took the interjection coolly and said, “I understand. It does seem odd. I want to shift gears to your friend group, though. What is that like?”

Haechan put his hand up. “Reason being?”

“It’ll help me grasp your relationships and behaviors so I can gain a better understanding of why this happened,” Detective Zhao replied smoothly.

He sighed. Everything reminded him of you. Even the littlest of things. Haechan had no idea how he would survive in a world without you. He had done it before, but Haechan had molded to your presence. The boy he was before you came into his world was nothing like the man who was influenced by you. Now, he needed to readapt, or this world would kill him too.

The question took him back to a couple of years ago. You had given each of the boys a designated role.

“Isn’t Johnny like the Mom of the group?” Haechan teased, unphased by the dark glare Johnny shot him promptly.

Renjun had called from Johnny’s couch without glancing up from his phone, “Not my Mom.”

You bobbed your head. “Exactly. Johnny’s too sexy to be a mom.”

Ten gasped in theatrical shock. “Excuse me? Have you never heard of a MILF?”

“That’s what you’re gonna be when you have my babies,” Yuta whispered in your ear none too quietly.

You winced. “Okay, gross,” you said, chucking a pillow at his face.

“Yeah. Don’t be a weirdo, man,” Renjun chided, glancing up to shoot Yuta a glare of disapproval.

You snickered. “Anyways, I think Johnny is more like the arbitrator of the group. He stops stupid quarrels before they can happen. I swear, he has some sort of sixth sense. But yes, Johnny is the most responsible. He cleans up you guys’ mess and always knows what to do. He has a keen eye and picks up on the slightest of details.”

Johnny leaned over the table and stared at you with his face in his palms. “And what else?”

“And you can’t give him too much praise because it’ll go straight to his big stupid head,” you deadpanned.

The boys snickered. Save for Johnny.

Haechan’s hand shot into the air. “What about me?”

“This one’s obvious,” you told him, but rambled nonetheless. “Haechan is the sunshine. He lifts our spirits when they’re low. He’s always trying - and never fails - to put a smile on someone’s face. But don’t be fooled by that pretty face of his, because he’s a hell-raiser. And a goddamn proud one. You’re the life of the party and the most extroverted person I have ever met.”

Haechan bobbed his head. There was no disagreeing with that. “I take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love how outgoing you are. Never lose your shine, babe. The world will actually end.”

Haechan beamed and put his hand over his chest theatrically as he solemnly swore, “I’d never.”

Little did he know, Haechan would one day have to break his promise to you for the first time in his life. Because his world had already ended.

You pointed to the boy on the left to you on the couch and said, “Junnie, you’re next.”

Renjun whined, “I didn’t ask for this.”

“I know. But I’m on a roll and I don’t wanna stop.”

The boy begrudgingly put his phone down and gave you his undivided attention, before groaning, “Who am I?”

“You’re the middle ground. You love your peace and calm, but won’t hesitate to raise hell when that calmness becomes disrupted. You’re quiet, but you can be a snarky little bitch when provoked and you’re as much of a troublemaker as the rest of us when you get too comfortable.”

“The middle ground? Like in a painting?” He furrowed his brows.

You smiled. “Yup.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Renjun protested.

You were unbothered. “It does make sense. You’re simply not at the level of intellect to truly comprehend the magnitude of my brilliant description.”

Ten chipped in, “In other words, you’re a dumbass.”

Johnny sensed a squabble and swiftly groaned, “Peace. One night of peace is all I ask.”

Ten giggled and leaned into Johnny. “My bad, John.”

Only Haechan noticed the way you cleared your throat and promptly directed your attention to the man to your right side. “Yuta, it’s your turn.”

Yuta was prepared. “Hit me,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

You grabbed Yuta’s hand and then continued, “You’re the warrior. The one that doesn’t take any shit from anybody. You’re tough and stand up for yourself, what you believe, and who you love. You say what you want exactly how you mean it and leave no room for misunderstanding. The shit you say is what everyone else thinks, but you’re the only one with the guts to put it out there. I admire your brutal honesty. I know you’d never lie to me.”

Yuta took your hand too, kissing the back of it before purring, “I’m flattered.”

“No public displays of affection,” Renjun chastised as if it was his house.

You went straight for the weakness. “Why not? Don’t like being reminded that you’re immune to getting laid?”

“I have no interest in that sort of thing,” he lied.

“Sure,” was all you said, leaving it alone. “Anyways, Ten is last but not least.”

Ten smiled at you over from where he and Johnny were sitting. “I’m so ready.”

“Ten is the jack-of-all-trades,” you announced, as if you were declaring a speech. “He’s always striving, always overachieving and he makes us look like losers. He’s confident in what he does and super passionate in general. He’s a livewire, never not up to something. And has a very optimistic outlook of the future. But beyond all that is a super reliable friend that’s down for anything and the one you go to when you really need a pep talk.”

Ten laughed sincerely and held his hand to his heart. “Very touching.”

“I know.”

“You know us so well,” Haechan added.

You smiled. “I know,” you repeated.

“That sounds like a very exciting match of people,” Detective Zhao said.

Haechan merely shrugged. At one point, he thought so too. You guys were a threat to society when together, but you also balanced one another out. You compensated for each other’s fiery with tameness and vice versa. He thought you would be friends until the last breath, but he never imagined it like this. “Doesn’t explain why she was killed.”

“It doesn’t,” Detective Zhao agreed. “There’s something under the surface of this happy-go-lucky friendship. I need your help to peel back the layers, because you know who did this. And you know why.”

Your best friend glanced up at the detective. “How?”

Detective Zhao crossed his legs. “There was a disturbance somewhere. Maybe you saw it yourself, maybe she told you about it. It prompted a motive. Does that sound familiar to you?”

It sounded very familiar. Sometimes you got into verbal scuffles with the boys. But Haechan never thought much of anything. He never assumed it would prompt them to murder you. Friends fought. But they came back together. As far as Haechan was concerned, you had no unresolved conflicts with the boys, because you loathed leaving obvious issues unresolved.

He pondered everything you ranted to him about. You had gotten into a fight with one of the boys lately. But that had already been settled, because you were grown adults and at the end of the day you were still close friends. Haechan remember you ranting about your crush on Johnny too. God, you couldn’t shut up about him. Haechan loved you, that was for sure. But he did not need to hear about you getting dicked down by Johnny.

And then there was the Yuta thing. It was a borderline forbidden topic. Sometimes Haechan feared even saying Yuta’s name like it was some sort of trigger word.

But none of it he could see his friends killing over.

“She got into a fight with Ten a little while ago,” Haechan confessed.

That piqued Detective Zhao’s curiosity. “Did things get physical?”

“It happened over the phone,” Haechan said. “But they would never hurt each other. They barely wanted to even go at it. The aftermath was worse than the fight itself. She and Ten are the non-confrontational, passive aggressive type, so they ignored each other until they made up.”

“And what did they fight over?”

Haechan sank deeper into his chair. If possible. “A boy.”

The detective pressed, “One of your friends in this group?”

“Ding ding,” Haechan droned.

Detective Zhao leaned over the desk. “If you don’t mind me asking - how did you all meet?”

A smile tugged Haechan’s lips, much to both his and the detective’s surprise. This was his first time smiling in days.

Haechan told him fondly, “Summer camp.”

Specifically you met nine years ago at Camp Neo Summer. Yuta once quipped it was like a boot camp for troubled teenagers, because that was what you all were to the world. Lost boys and a girl that found each other.

Strangely enough, the six of you also found a purpose there. The world had told you that you would never amount to anything in life. That you were incorrigible rebellious teens beyond reclaim. And nothing more. But you each helped bring out a hidden side of each other. You went from cowering from the world to screaming at the top of your lungs, “Fuck the world!”

Haechan had been fourteen when he met you. And he knew then that you would stay in his life and fill the void others had left. They said he was too much of a hell-raiser. Too brash and reckless. Not you. You loved his fire because it thawed out your icebound layers.

“I can’t do this,” Haechan had said, pacing back and forth.

You grabbed his shoulders and looked into his eyes, declaring assertively, “Yes, you can.”

Too in his goddamn head, Haechan didn’t listen to you. Not when the voices inside were louder, screaming over your starkly soothing tone. You recognized the signs of him on the verge of a mental breakdown. Haechan was hard to crack, because he would only hear himself. And the lies people fed him that still lingered, insisting he was completely undeserving of all happiness.

At one point, poor mental health was something each of you had suffered from. The demons got the best of you. Haechan’s stemmed from childhood and his deep-rooted fear of abandonment.

Haechan had told you about his childhood at length. You knew bits and pieces even some of the boys were unaware of. Haechan was the outgoing extrovert, but that was because he needed to be. He craved attention like he would die without even a lick of spotlight. Though he needed love to feel sane, that never stopped him from feeling unworthy of it all.

Haechan was a troubled teen back then not because he was bad-hearted, but because he needed attention. Even the negative kind. Every day of his life, his parents would turn their heads. He got into any kind of mischief he could find, hoping his parents would care about him for even a goddamn second. But they sent him away.

They didn’t want to deal with him anymore.

“I’m just a hell-raiser,” Haechan cried, hiding his face in his palms as he tore himself away from you.

You rubbed his back instead, cooing, “That’s not a bad thing unless you make it a bad thing. So what if you are? What other people think of you doesn’t define you unless you let it. They don’t fucking know you.”

But Haechan was too far gone. He couldn’t shake his insecurities, his pain. The wound in his heart that would never be soothed. No one came out of an upbringing similar to his unscathed.

Nothing hurt more than seeing your best friend in ruins. You hated his parents for making him feel the way they did. You hated them for making him feel as if he had to self-destruct to gain even the slightest bit of their concern. Haechan searched tirelessly for love because he had never before felt deep affection. And Haechan shared it because he knew all too well how it felt to have none.

“Listen to me. You’re not only a hell-raiser,” you told him. Your voice was level, but firm. The same way those painful words were etched into his memory, you wanted to replace them with affirmative ones. “You’re an amazing friend and a kind person. You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me and the boys. And I love you.”

Haechan rooted in place because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him those three words. I love you.

He turned and glared at you. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

Your lack of hesitation shocked him. “Good thing I meant what I said,” you told him. “I love you. The boys love you. Don’t you ever - not even for a second - think that you are unloved.”

That was all he needed to hear.

Haechan had been vulnerable with you endless times. There was no reason why you suddenly would feel like you couldn’t do the same. You exchanged your deepest, darkest thoughts, and they were met with pure empathy. Haechan understood you and vice versa.

So Haechan went digging.

He flew out to your hometown a couple of days ago. Your family had wanted to see him in person. Not that he had very much of an explanation to offer. Just looking your mother in the eyes - indirectly knowing all her struggles with you - broke his heart into pieces.

You were fortunate to have a family that loved you unconditionally. Haechan was more than happy for you, however, he would be lying if he said it never made his chest swell with envy. But you had your fair share of pain too. No fortune was without charge.

According to your temperamental rants, your father had never been the greatest man, though it was your story to tell. Haechan would never say a word to a soul without your indubitable permission. Least of all some random no-good detective.

And your mother also wanted him to visit your place. They wanted him to have custody of your dog. Your mother was allergic and your siblings were either too irresponsible or already had their hands full.

Haechan stepped inside your place and into a safe harbor of unshakable thoughts of you. He could still feel your presence lingering in the air. Your warm touch and smile. Your laughter resonating throughout your chest.

The dog came to him instantly and he kneeled down to rub behind her ears. The both of you had named her together. “Hi, Laffy,” Haechan cooed, feigning his most saccharine tone.

Laffy must’ve sensed something was out of place, because she rubbed against his leg lovingly and gave him puppy eyes. And a big lick of affection across the cheek.

There was an uncontrollable wave of memories flooding over the shore in Haechan’s mind and he could do nothing to stop them.

Camp Neo Summer was in the boys’ town, and it had been your father’s decision to send you there. And your mother would by no means go against him. Understandably. Haechan was all too glad when the bastard got sentenced to life in prison.

And so were you. You decided to move back home a couple of years ago to pursue the career of your dreams and though it ached to see you leave, Haechan and the boys respected your decision.

But he would come visit you.

Haechan recalled that summer day. You were both lying in your bed, snuggled up together. There was a brand new companion hogging the bed with you.

Laffy undoubtedly got the larger share of your cuddles. Haechan recalled you mentioning you’d only gotten her less than a week ago and already she was clingy. He was unsurprised that you had Laffy eating from the palm of your hand. Literally. There wasn’t a mean bone in your whole body and he remembered reading an article about dogs being able to sense virtue in a human.

That said, Laffy was not very fond of Haechan. Or maybe they were too alike, too attention-seeking. Laffy made it very clear that there was only room for one sheriff in this town.

“What should I name her?”

Haechan groaned, “How about Hogger - since she keeps trying to steal you away from me.”

You snickered and donned your most high-pitched tone as you scratched Laffy’s ear, cooing, “Sunshine is jealous because you’re getting more cuddles than he is.”

Laffy barked.

You made a face of mock confusion. “Huh - what was that? He needs to get over it?”

Your best friend whined, “C’mon.”

“Stop being a big baby and help me name her, then,” you told him, giggling. Haechan liked seeing you smile. You deserved to be happy.

Haechan caved in and suggested with a shrug, “I don’t know. Laffy?”

“Why Laffy?” you asked curiously.

“Because I really wish I had a Laffy Taffy right now,” Haechan replied honestly.

You snorted, because it was completely ridiculous. Though for whatever reason, the name stuck. In your opinion, the name was cute.

Haechan found himself walking to your bedroom, tugged by an invisible string. And hanging by a thread. The room was void of you, yet full of you all the while. There were pictures on your desk. He picked up one of you and him in college and smiled. You smiled back. There was another one with you and all of the boys on the last day of summer camp, making the goofiest of faces and being totally chaotic. As to be expected.

You had a rock poster on your wall. Haechan chuckled. Back in the day, you used to blast emo rock, wearing dark eyeliner and gothic clothes. It was a phase he would never let you live down, but was glad to have witnessed nonetheless.

Teenage rebellion. Oh, how sweet it was.

There was a stubborn red fruit punch on the carpet right before your bed. It wouldn’t come out. Haechan knew how it got there. Out of nowhere he started screaming Michael Jackson lyrics so loudly that it startled the living hell out of you and that being so, you nearly leapt out of your skin, spilling your drink everywhere.

Haechan remembered the violent cursing he was met with that day.

Then, his eyes ascended a little higher. Up to the bed. There were so many memories in your bed that Haechan didn’t even know where to begin. The vast majority of them were platonic, though you’d admittedly boned once. Maybe thrice.

Haechan liked having sex with you. No strings attached - purely fun. He loved you as a friend, but you fucked him as if you wanted him to fall for you. He couldn’t get enough of your body.

“Holy fuck. You’re so tight,” Haechan hissed. He got a hold of your hips, clasping them in his palms as you straddled his lap.

You sneered, “You say that every time.”

Your best friend replied smoothly, “And you’re still as tight as the first time I fucked you.”

“Clearly, I’m doing the fucking here.”

And you were. You fucked him so damn good he wholeheartedly believed you were a goddess. Fingers clasped around his shoulders for anchorage, you bounced on his cock, bodies connecting with a wet slap.

Haechan whined in a high-pitched tone when you lowered your head, nibbling at his neck and the flesh behind his ear. You smirked into his neck. You had him right where you wanted him. When you were done, you would send him back to the boys with a fresh set of bruises on his throat. And you knew they’d want a turn too.

It was no secret you and some of the boys had fucked, but something told you they’d be totally jealous (and they were. Johnny blew up the group chat and Yuta spammed you with phone calls, joking that you were a cheater).

You pulled away when you’d had your fill of bruising Haechan’s neck. Which was relieving to him. Any longer and he would have came quicker than he would’ve liked.

There was something about sex with you that brought him to another kind of high. Haechan could never say no when it came to you. His body much less. And his body was screaming for you, submitting to your gentle touch as your fingers smoothed down his torso.

Though you tried to fight it, there was no use. You took Haechan by the throat and smashed your lips against his, kissing him with fever. He kissed back just as hard, giggling into your mouth. It turned you both on like nothing else - sucking on each other’s tongues like it was nothing.

Haechan liked being kissed by you too. The feeling of your lips pressed to his neck or mouth. And then, you would go even lower. Your lips teased his chest, brushing over his nipples. He sucked in a deep breath. You knew all the ways to make him weak.

“Shit. I could do this forever,” Haechan said, watching the sight of you rolling your hips as you tirelessly hunted for satisfaction.

Your eyes rolled. The same thought was ripe in your head. There was no such thing as too much when Haechan was involved. Contrary to a very popular belief. “God dammit. Me, too,” you moaned, face tensing with pleasure.

Haechan was tangled in a web of pleasure like a captured fly. Not that he desired liberation. He was tied to your body. He needed to come. And he needed it badly. You were making short work of him and it drove him positively feral.

The room was hotter - thicker. Haechan could barely breathe. Each of your little breaths came quick, beads of sweat dripping from your bodies.

The euphoria was all-consuming. He thrusted upwards involuntarily and beamed when you moaned, obsessed with the tiny sounds you would make. None of the world mattered to him. He was purely absorbed in you. And the way your sheath-like pussy was gripping his cock.

He had been so engrossed in you that Haechan somehow forgot the music faded in the background, muted by the agonizingly obvious sound of sex. The loud resounding slap when your bodies welded. Your moans blending in a mixture of glee. And the bed rocking with you, barely able to endure the pressure.

That sounded too much like Haechan.

He continued to try and meet your heavy movements. You were going so hard, as if you were resolved to break him.

Haechan hit your spot and you bit your lip as a measure to prevent yourself from screaming, instead whimpering, “Fuck me.”

There were a billion thoughts powering in Haechan’s mind and somehow none altogether. He had no idea what came over him, but in that moment, Haechan flipped you over.

The sudden change made you shriek in surprise, but he was very welcome to fuck the shit out of you if he so pleased. None of it mattered because you would come either goddamn way. He would make you come harder than you ever imagined possible. Haechan was sure of it.

Haechan lowered his head and donned the uttermost shit-eating grin, teasing lowly in your ear, “Who’s doing the fucking now?”

You rolled your eyes. Or maybe they’d rolled back for a much more sinful reason. “Shut up. And fuck me harder. I know you can do better than that,” you taunted, hands on his naked ass.

Haechan grunted and slapped his hips into you harder.

He kept that same pace for a good while. Haechan’s brain was going a thousand miles per millisecond. He kept himself occupied, kissing you everywhere. Touching you anywhere. Best believe if he could get his hands on it, they were there.

And you just moaned his name softly like only Haechan could pleasure you in such a manner. He liked it all too much.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, running your hands down his back.

Haechan kissed his way down your stomach. “I know,” he said, tightening his hold around your hips. He had learned to recognize the signs. Your thighs were tensing. And your body was unstill. “Me too. Come with me.”

The whole world heated up a thousand degrees. He was on autopilot, powered by a well of intuition. He was a machine. No thoughts. No consciousness. Only chasing pleasure the way his body naturally knew how.

“I’m gonna come.” Your hands were shaking. Your whole body, for that matter. Haechan knew your climax was in arm’s reach and he was going to bring you there.

The walls came down. You came with a cry of Haechan’s name, clasping onto him for dear life. He still pounded you mercilessly through each of your orgasms, minutes feeling like seconds in his mind. He tapped out sooner or later, pulling away and disposing of the condom.

You lay there, panting for breath. “God. You are too good.”

Haechan snickered. “I was thinking the same thing,” he replied through ragged breath.

You rested your face on his chest and laughed. Haechan looped an arm around you. None of you wanted to move. You only wanted to sit there in each other’s company for a while.

“Sunshine?” you called out after a good moment of silence.

Haechan hummed.

“I love you.”

Haechan fretted and became theatrical in a matter of seconds. “Oh, no. Are you confessing your feelings to me?”

You slapped his chest and fought a smile when he whined. “No, you dumbass. You’re my best friend and I love you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You noticed Haechan’s embrace get a little tighter. “Love you too, Moonlight.”

He remembered you beaming.

Haechan’s heart burned. The pain would never subside. He was on the verge of tears. He needed you back. Every second he spent thinking of you, he only needed you back more.

He didn’t understand. How could any of the boys be so vicious and cruel? You had never wronged them. Ever. They wouldn’t be who they were without you.

He sat on your bed and let the tears roll down his cheeks. Haechan would never forgive whoever did this to you. He respected all of the boys, but whatever positivity he held for the one to blame for your death would instantly cease. He would forever hate them for what they took from him.

For what they took from you.

The memories could be as painful as they were gleeful. He would never forget finding you. He would never forget how lifeless you looked, how void of life you felt as he tried to shake your limp body awake. You wouldn’t stir.

Nobody would understand the extent of his wounds. They weren’t the ones who found you deprived of life. They weren’t the ones who screamed for you to wake up, cradling your dead body in their arms, in denial that you were gone. He would carry that pain in him forever. 

Haechan cried more. He screamed again. Had not this been your place, Haechan would have trashed the room. He let everything out - his agony and his rage - until he felt somewhat better.

Laffy came from the living room, concerned, and tried her best to comfort Haechan the best way she knew how. Haechan smiled softly. You weren’t completely gone. He still had Laffy.

Then, Laffy ditched the idea of comfort and crawled into his lap expectantly, the idea of tummy rubs much more appealing. “You’re really something,” Haechan sighed pleasantly. His feelings were mercurial.

He rubbed her tummy, comforted by her warmth. Then, Laffy accidentally kicked your laptop. You had left it open on your bed. The screen turned on and Haechan became curious.

He knew it would have been bad to pry. Not that you ever minded. Haechan had the password to your devices, for fuck’s sake. And you had his. Neither of you had anything to hide.

Haechan shifted a little and typed in your password, assuming there would be no harm done. The screen displayed a couple of browsers you hadn’t bothered to click out of the last time you used the laptop. He immediately saw you texting Johnny and - with his curiosity getting the better of him - he skimmed through the messages.

There was one that stood out to him. Johnny had sent it the day before you came back to their town.

johnny: We need to talk

you: in person?

johnny: Yes. ASAP

you: i’ll see u tmrw. we can talk then

johnny: Sounds good

That confused Haechan. You never mentioned speaking to Johnny. And Johnny never said a word, which he automatically read as suspicious. He would be sure to press Johnny about it, but he wanted to wait it out.

Hiding his cards or something. Though Johnny had to know you told Haechan everything under the sun. Except you never mentioned this - not even in passing. Under normal circumstances, he would have dismissed it as insignificant. Though this was anything but a normal circumstance.

Was there something more? Or was he overthinking it?

Haechan shook his head. He was going nuts. Still, he checked your other tabs, but nothing else struck him as suspicious.

He closed your laptop and fell backwards against your sheets. Laffy rushed beside him. His feelings were scattered. The world was upside down. And a part of his heart was empty.

Now that he had come empty-handed, Haechan fell backwards against your sheets, Laffy rushing beside him. His feelings were scattered. The world was upside down. And a part of his heart was empty. He shut your laptop, noticing the sun and moon stickers you’d placed on the back.

Sunshine, you had called him.

It was too bad there was no sunshine in him now. Only gloominess and outrage. He had nothing to keep him grounded. No anchor. The only warmth he had was hellfire.

A scalding fire burned in his eyes. Vengeance. It was time somebody showed the world what it truly meant to be a hell-raiser.

taglist: @matchahyuck @puduwhore @uuzhanggggggg @oimqrks @wonyofanclub @neozon3nha @bubusebu

mark bf texts <3

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230101 NCTsmtown Twitter Update

[PRESS] 4 NCT members fell from a 2m high jungle gym while filming a commercial today. 2 members were taken to the hospital for treatment & one of the other 2 members also received treatment at the hospital later. Members were conveyed conscious to the hospital, no major injuries

KWANGYA CLUB update states that the members who fell include Johnny, Jaehyun & Jungwoo; they were injured as the jungle gym collapsed when they were filming the commercial. Tests & treatment are undergoing right now but more thorough examination is required.

The test results will be made known to fans after a more thorough examination.

Jungwoo will also not be participating in MBC Music Core on 10th Dec.

© nctdaoying

"Today, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo were injured when the jungle gym set structure collapsed during the commercial shoot. Immediately after the injury, they were moved to the hospital for examination and treatment, but a thorough examination is required.

We will tell you the detailed test results after the thorough examination. We also informed that Jungwoo are unable to participate the Show! Music Core schedule on the 10th.

We would like to express our apologies to our fans who may have been surprised by the sudden news, and we will do our best to consider the artist's treatment as a top priority and to ensure that the members recover as soon as possible."

© captainuwu