gave my mom’s dog a massage and i’m pretty sure she achieved a state of nirvana previously unknown to all living things

BOO-lieve in Me [1/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 15k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Spirit Marriage!AU

➜ Summary: A Spirit Marriage - in which two deceased people are wedded together. In your life, you wouldn’t have ever imagined yourself married. Much less to mommy’s boy, Min Yoongi.

➜ Warnings: ghosts, discussion of death, swearing.

➜ Notes: istg the titles for my fics are getting shittier and shittier. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this small series! and happy birthday to the one and only Min Yoongi!!

You’d rather die than be here.

“During the late eighteenth century, there were many trade issues with tea as European control over trade with China was very limited. On page two-hundred sixty of your textbook, it says that the merchants were under the direction of local officials who made all decisions of the selling process, leaving little for negotiation….”   The teacher drones and on and on. Sitting here at the very back of the class with your legs comfortably popped up on the desk, you feel like slamming your head against the wall. But even if you did that — no one would notice. Luckily enough, you’re not the only one bored out of your mind. There are students passing each other notes, giggling and spewing spitballs at one another. It’s terribly childish and juvenile, so with a roll of your eyes, you keep your vision trained forward to the person you’re sitting behind, burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head.   Jungkook’s a little shit. He’s fairly popular amongst his peers for his good looks and personality, and he knows it too. He likes to talk back. He’s a brat. He’s competitive and rambunctious too. But you beneath it all, he’s a good kid — getting good grades, friendly to those he meets, athletic and talented in drawing. But lately, he’s been quieter. Reclusive even. Jungkook has become timid and he’s been distant to his friends. It’s obvious that he’s having a hard time.   “Do you want to go to the movies after school? They’re playing a new movie!”   “The one with Won Bin?”   “Yeah! It starts at five. It got good reviews too and apparently he has a shower scene.”   The two girls are giggling together, snickering underneath their breaths. And when a spitball flies past from a guy sitting across from you, your brain nearly blows a gasket. You glare into the back of their heads, mouth drawing open to say something, but you don’t need to.   The teacher at the front of the room turns on his toes. “Who’s talking?!”   Silence ripples throughout the room. The girls turn right back around and the boys hide their straws in the laps, all looking down at their open textbooks simultaneously. Only those who have their head rested on their desks, drooling on the wooden surface as they sleep, are caught for not paying attention. Fortunately for all of them before the teacher can yell again, the bell rings.   It chimes throughout the entire building and the students get up, dismissed from the day much to the teacher’s dismay. “Make sure to finish all of your assigned homework!” he screams and gives up, packing his own things to leave.   Unlike the others, you’re in no rush, instead turning to look out the window. There are students already running out the school gate, laughing with their friends, racing home, or strolling to their after-school activities.   Jungkook is slow, languidly packing up his belongings, picking up his bag, putting on his jacket.   As you redirect your gaze towards him, he ignores you. The boy is a ghost, caught in a trance and only brought back to the ground when someone pops their head through the door and shouts his name. “Jungkook! Are you coming with us? We’re heading down to the—”   “No, I’m fine.” He throws his bags over his shoulder and walks out the door while Jaehyun is left helpless, unable to persuade him. “I have some things to do at home. Maybe another time.”   What an idiot.   You finally get up from your own seat, hands dug in your pockets, following him out.   Jungkook walks alone, each of his steps dragged down by a weight on his shoulders that you cannot see. His head is downcasted, arms by his side and as you shadow his strides at a distance, he doesn’t notice the girl who comes from the opposite direction. Her shoulder collides with his as she speed walks and at the exact same time as she spews out an apology, he mumbles his own.   “Oh.” The female stops and turns herself back, nearly whipping him in the face with her high ponytail. “You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”   “Umm...do I know you?”   “At the beginning of the semester, I gave you a pack of ramen.”   “You….did?”   “Yeah. I was promoting the gardening club. The ramen had an advertisement stapled to it,” she reminds him in exasperation and you approach close enough to read the nametag on her uniform — Yeeun. She’s definitely an interesting character, you muse. Very loud and bubbly, having no sense of boundaries as she invades in his personal space. This is the most you’ve seen Jungkook talk recently and it’s quite funny to watch him so taken back. “You even signed up to receive information. I remember because you gave me a FAKE email!”   “Oh…” Jungkook ducks his head, finding her overwhelming. “Sorry. I must’ve made a mistake…”   “Yeah, sure. Listen, I’ll forgive you if you join the gardening club. We actually need more help—”   “I’m good.”   “If you weren’t interested in it in the first place, then you shouldn't have taken the ramen and given me a fake email! I could’ve given that to someone else instead. I know gardening seems lame but it’s actually a lot of fun and it doesn’t take that long to learn—…..are you walking away from me?!”   “I have some place to be.” Jungkook is backing away with his palms up. “Sorry, not interested.”   Yeeun’s mouth draws open, baffled. You laugh, snickering openly and when you brush past her, you catch her muttering about his rudeness and how she feels like a salesman going door to door.   You continue following Jungkook, but not without musing that the girl seemed cute. Jungkook could’ve totally made a move or at least got a new friend, but he blew it like a total dork that he is. Though the image of him kneeling in dirt as he tends to tomatoes is all too humorous.   Your feet trail after him at a distance, steps matching his. Your eyes watch his backside, too curious for your own good. He goes down three blocks, deeper into the suburban area, turning a left then a right. But as you tail him, you’re suddenly disrupted by an urgent bark.   Head drooping to the ground, you find a brown poodle dog yapping at you, having leaped out from the alleyway. “Go away.”   You walk over the stray, but it follows, throwing itself in front of you once more.   “I said go away!”   At your shout, the dog remains undeterred. His tail is still wagging, tongue out as he pants. The more you pay attention to him, the more he reacts. You look up quickly, finding that you’ve lost sight of Jungkook. Damn. With no other choice and a sigh of frustration, you pick up the damn dog into your arms.   “What do you want from me? Where’s your owner, huh?” You look at the dog’s small blue collar, catching the name tag. “You’re Holly?”   The poodle barks and a tiny smile sneaks on your lips before you repress it and set him down. “Go away. Leave me alone,” you tell the stray. “I’m not in any condition to take care of you, alright? And I don’t want to!”   He follows you, stubby legs teetering from side to side to match up with your wide strides. A discontented inhale is stolen through the seams of your lips and you swivel around on your toes. “Stay!”   Holly yelps at your command, but ultimately obeys. He stays in one spot, watching you march off.   Your speed picks up and you follow Jungkook’s direction. That is until the road splits off into four and you don’t know where he’s gone. There are people coming from all directions, kids walking home from school, mothers pushing their strollers, elders holding their groceries from the store nearby. You’re lost.   After a moment of watching, you sigh and give up.   The sun begins to fall as the evening hour arrives. It becomes dark out within minutes, black rippling through the city slowly and engulfing the sky into nightfall. You wait at a bus station, sitting underneath the glass shelter on a bench, examining the way the wheels roll on the road. You watch the way the buses stop, how steam puffs out of their engine, how the creaking doors open and people get on and off, students and workers alike.   Sitting in a single spot, you listen to the sounds of the city, the white noise, the distant cars in the back, the bustle of synchronized steps and conversations. You observe the people out and about, catching taxis and cabs or entering the cozy restaurant from across the street, those that shuffle away from the coldness, arguing with loved ones on the phone. You watch how alive they are.   But finally, after hours of waiting, the bus you were expecting stops in front of you. You stand up and after three or so people hop off, you find the older lady bumbling onto the road again. She doesn’t look at you.   The aged woman has wrinkles around her eyes, her steps slow, fatigue permanently etched in her muscles. She exhales every so often and you follow after her as she drags her feet from the exhausted day. Your eyes trace her slumped shoulders and thin legs, watching her backside and chasing her shadow. You stroll behind her like some sort of child lost on her way or much like Holly, a stray dog desperate for attention.   The woman turns down the dark street, opening the gate to her house and you catch up behind her as her keys rattle and she opens the door. You slip inside behind her before it shuts.   The entire house is consumed in darkness, but the television is on, screen casting a blinding glow around the room, walls bathed in the static. The woman turns on the lights and the boy laying on the couch, watching mindlessly, doesn’t even blink.   “Have you eaten yet?”   He ignores her. She moves to the kitchen, sighing again and you follow.   “Mom,” you call out, but she ignores you. “Mom…..”   Your mom scoops up a bowl of rice from the cooker. But she doesn’t eat it even if her stomach is growling. Instead, she sets it on the table by the front door, right beside your picture frame.   “You must’ve been hungry, huh?” A sad smile graces her lips as she speaks to you. “I’m sorry for working all day. I hope you weren’t lonely. Things haven’t been too bad around here—”   The boy on the couch gets up, sitting straight. His hair is a mess, eyes weary, and he turns his head. “Can you not talk to her like that? It’s creepy. And stop giving her food. I have to throw it away after. It’s annoying.”   “Jungkook….”   He gets onto his feet, footsteps padding down the hall before the door slams shut. The walls rattle on impact, hinges squeaking and she winces.   You scoff. “What a brat.”   But your mom is less angry. She merely sighs, returning to the kitchen to get her food, only to end up sitting alone at the dinner table without knowing that you’re right beside her. And she barely eats, putting less than a spoonful in her mouth before he cries into her bowl. The woman sobs quietly to not disturb her son.   It’s heart wrenching and you can’t bear it for a full minute. You peel yourself off the chair, going down the hall into Jungkook’s room. Passing through the door, you find him laying in bed, facing the wall. “You’re a brat, you know that?! Mom’s crying because of you! You’re such an ass!”   “You think just cause I’m not here anymore means you get to disrespect mom?! Yeah right. Not on my watch, punk!”   Jungkook doesn’t hear you of course, but it still feels good to get it off your chest….until something catches in your ear. It’s the quietest of whimpers, muffled and only when you see Jungkook’s shoulders begin to tremble do you realize he’s crying too.   He digs his face into his pillow, pulling his covers up over his head and you fall to the floor, leaning back at the foot of his bed.   It really sucks to be dead.   //   Yoongi would agree with your sentiment — if he knew you.   It sucked to be a wandering ghost, but even then it’s an understatement. He doesn’t get to haunt people and scare them or go around like Casper the Ghost. There was nothing exciting about being invisible to the people alive or having limited objects he could touch and interact with. But he doesn’t dwell on it too much.   What’s more pressing on his mind is that he knows he’s going to hell.   “Can you stop hovering over me?!” His mother shrieks and dusts off her shoulder furiously like there’s a pet cockroach perched on it.   “No.” Yoongi continues to hover beside her. “You can’t make me.”   “Go away!” She grieves, throwing down the tarot cards from her hands onto the clothed table. She appears absolutely psychotic as she screams and scolds to an empty space. But she knows he’s there. “Stop bothering me! Don’t you have something better to do?”   “Actually, I don’t,” he bites back, refusing to go elsewhere. The woman can’t exactly hear him, but feel his presence and read his aura. Even so, she is annoyed.   She gets up, moving past the beaded curtains and moving through the narrow halls. Her steps are heavy, body tired from constantly feeling him over her shoulder. It’s the pressure of an anchor.   “I have a client coming over soon. For the love of all things good, please stop haunting me, Yoongi. This is my last request to you.” She is begging and ranting to the empty air. “Didn’t you always want to move out? Why are you sticking next to me like gum? You’re not four-years old anymore. Let me work in peace!”   Yoongi is childish. Stubborn. He refuses, especially now that he hears a client is coming. It only provokes him, making his eyes narrow and he comes even closer. She mutters curses, a hand pressing on her forehead and decides it’s better to just ignore him. The woman grabs a binder off the shelf and marches into the main living space, right as the doorbell rings.   She opens it. Yoongi’s mom has erratic hair and although she has a sophisticated demeanor, she is very much witch-like. It makes the woman on the other side startled despite having met her before.   Still, that doesn’t stop her from giving the woman a warm hug. “Welcome! Welcome, come in, come in!”   “O-oh, thank you.”   “Don’t be shy!” she laughs. “What kind of tea would you like? Do you want any refreshments?”   “I-I’m fine, thank you.”   Yoongi leans back against the wall with his arms crossed. He watches the arrangement and how both get settled down across the table from each other. The black binder is opened and his crazy mother flips through the pages. The woman across from her is the first to pipe up.   “I want to apologize about how I acted last time.”   “Nonsense. I completely understand why someone might hesitate to do this.” She looks up at her with a sincere gaze and reaches over to put her hand over her’s. “You’re still in grief.”   The woman nods. “I thought it over like you said and I really…..just want her to have peace. I’m scared that she’s lonely.”   “I’m glad that you called me then. It’s my mission to make sure that everyone is matched up with someone suitable and that will give them happiness in the other word.”   Yoongi scoffs. It’s a bunch of bogus and bullshit. He despises her and her scamming career — a matchmaker for ghosts? What a joke. She’s hurting these people suffering in grief and it’s unforgivable.   “Thank you.”   “Don’t thank me yet.” She smiles and looks through her binder before slipping a paper out. Yoongi strolls over, dipping down to look over his mother’s shoulder. Her muscles seem to stiffen as if she can feel him right there, but he remains focused on the profile he sees.   Middle class family. Tragedy struck halfway through university years. Bus crash. It’s unfortunate, especially considering how young you were. Yoongi’s eyes skim over to the picture of just you, a headshot from high school, and he finds you fairly pretty when you have a smile on. It’s a shame you died so early on in your life.   “So I’ve taken a long look over your daughter’s profile...and I assessed other profiles in all my binders and I believe I’ve found a match.”   “Really?”   The exuberant woman throws the entire binder backwards onto the last page. She fiddles with the sheet protector and takes out the page, sliding it over the wooden table like a secret contract or Satan persuading a clueless human to sign their soul away.   “My own son!”   “Pardon?”   “WHAT?!” Yoongi goes pale. His jaw is slack, eyes bulging out from his sockets, mortified.   His mother laughs, feeling his aura turn into a furious red. “I’ve met many souls and I haven’t found a better match than now. They were around the same age when they passed away and you said your daughter was feisty, right?”   She stares at Yoongi’s picture — at how soft his features are and kind his smile is. He looks like a cute boy and a good son-in-law. “Yes.”   “Well, I know my son very well and he’s….lively too. They would be a couple who would challenge each other, but ultimately rise above. At least that’s what my intuition tells me.”   “No, no, no!” Yoongi is in hysterics and he’s shouting to no one. “Is this your ploy to try to get rid of me?! You’re marrying me off?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You’re fucking sick!”   “He seems very hardworking,” your mom says after reading over his profile, noticing how many jobs he’s had, how he’s traveled around the world despite being at such a young age.   “Yes. He’s very particular and meticulous too. A very well-mannered boy…” when he wants to be, but she doesn’t add that on.   “Do you really think they’d go well together?”   “Well, I only really know once they meet.”   “Once they meet?”   “I can summon her into the room. Luckily, my son is already here.” She smiles, unbeknownst at how that very same son is ready to jump out the window and hope he can die a second time. “Would you like me to bring your daughter here?”   “S-sure.”   Yoongi is losing his mind. He can’t pay attention, slumped to the wall, sliding down to collapse on the floor. His hands are in his hair, shaking his head and in denial. In the meanwhile, his mother lights six candles and places out six cards, beginning a ritual. She murmurs bullshit underneath her breath and burns a picture of you to the candle beside her.   It goes up into flames, photo turning to ash.   Then, there’s a gust of wind.   Your mom is startled when the candles are blown out and Yoongi’s mother shuts her eyes tight, fingers rubbing against her temple. In the dimension they cannot see, there’s a mist and then a shrill scream. You’re pulled away from Jungkook’s classroom, surroundings warped and soul stolen away from your control.   You fall from the ceiling, landing on the carpet in a splat.   “What the fuck?!” You get up and Yoongi watches you in distaste as if observing spiders hatching from their eggs. You look around before your eyes meet.   He’s a random ass dude, rounded cheeks, brown eyes, reminding you of a cat with plush cheeks, but a stern stare. There’s also a woman in red robes, necklaces draped on her head on top of her untamed curly hair. Across from her and the tall candles is…..“Mom?!”   “She is here.”   “She is?” Your mom looks around into every corner. “Y/N?”   The woman hums. “She’s here. Standing right there.” She points right at you and you’re startled, barely managing to get to your feet.   “What the fuck. What’s going on?” you ask to no one in particular before turning towards Yoongi, noticing that he’s in the same state as you are. “Who are you?”   “Yoongi.” His deep voice rumbles against the walls and he wears an unimpressed expression as he scans you from head to toe.   “Can she see me?” You don’t look away from him, simply pointing to the woman.   “No. But she can feel you.”   “What?” You’re still flabbergasted, mind reeling and Yoongi feels just as numb. “What in the fucking hell….How?”   “She’s psychic.”   You’re befuddled, confused out of your mind. But the woman continues to speak. “I can feel her. She is….sad.”   “Sad?” Your mom’s eyes are rounded, brows knitting together, looking hurt and concerned.   Yoongi scoffs as his mother nods. “Deep sadness. You’re not taking care of yourself, are you? Neither is your younger son. She’s been following the both of you for some time now, watching over you.”   You’re surprised, taken back by her accuracy. Your mother also comes to cover her mouth with her hand, broken sobs tearing through her throat. “C-can I talk to her?” Once she’s gotten the signal to go ahead, she turns to the empty space, missing you, but still in the general vicinity of where you are. “Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you’re still worrying about me and Jungkook. But you don’t have to be worried about us anymore. We’ll be fine. Go on in peace, okay?”   A lump forms in your throat, keeping your words from spilling out.   “She won’t be alone anymore. They’ll be a good match.”   “What...is she talking about?” You look at Yoongi again, whispering, but the stranger doesn’t respond.   He appears defeated, knees propped up and arms openly rested on them.   “Y/N, you and my son are going to be wedded together,” the woman explains openly, answering your questions, “so neither of you have to be alone in the other world. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”   “Wait….what?!” Your reaction is similar to Yoongi, mouth dropping to the ground, eyes doubling. But you don’t fully understand the extent of what’s occurring — not as well as Yoongi does. He’s the one who’s truly devastated at this news. “I’m marrying you?!”   “Nice meeting you too,” he chuckles lifelessly.   You don’t appreciate his joke whatsoever.   “What in the ever living fuck?!”   “Hmm….I see it.” Yoongi’s mother bobs her head up and down, stuck in a trance as she stares at her ceiling. “They’re upset and angry.”   Your mom is immediately worried. “A-angry?”   “Damn fucking straight I’m angry!” You’re screaming and no one hears except Yoongi who covers his ears and scowls at your shrieking volume. “Since when am I getting married?!”   //   It’s unbelievable.   Even when you were alive, you questioned if you ever wanted to be married to someone. The thought of forever being tied down to another human being for the entirety of your life somehow brought a bitter taste in your mouth. You found everything and everyone annoying with enough time — surely, marriage didn’t suit you. But being married to a total stranger after you’re dead for eternity?!   This was some kind of living hell….and you couldn’t even escape via death by running into traffic.   “We have to find some way to stop this.”   “How?” Yoongi questions with a raised brow before scoffing. “We’re dead. It’s not like we can say anything.”   “You said she could sense us, right?” You chase after him in exasperation. “Can’t she tell that we’re against this?”   “She’s already made up her mind.” His gaze is firm, eyes cold and pinpointed on yours. “She won’t change it.”   “How do you know?”   “She’s my mom.” Yoongi turns on his heel one last time, challenging you to keep trying to test his patience, just so you’ll see what will happen. “The living has always been selfish, don’t you realize that? People will always be selfish. It doesn't matter that we’re dead. It doesn’t matter what we think. They don’t want us to rest in peace — they want their own comfort.”   You scoff, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. “So you’re just going to let this happen?”   “There’s nothing else we can do,” Yoongi repeats himself. “And we’re dead, right? We’ll pass onto the other side eventually. Marriage is a human construct. It doesn’t matter anyways.”   “Yes, it does,” you persist. “It matters to me. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t even know who you are!”   “I don’t want to marry you either.” With that said, he makes his move, strolling off.   “W-where the hell are you going?!”   “Away. Fuck off.”   You scoff, not bothering to chase after him anymore. “What an asshole.”   “I heard that!”   “Good!” You shriek after him childishly, repeating yourself and making it loud and clear. “You’re an asshole, you know that?!”   His voice becomes fainter, but you still hear his spiteful insults. “You’re an annoying bitch.”   “What the fuck did you just say? Get back here! You coward! Yoongi!”   You’re left breathless and defeated, fists crumpled together and face twisted in anger. A scream of his name comes out of you one more time before you’re left in silence with no choice but to collect yourself and pick up the remains of your diminishing sanity. You don’t know who he is or who he thinks he is — but you’ll never marry a bastard like him.   Before you can stomp off, the psychic lady who brought you into this mess enters through the doorway. She pushes the beaded curtains away and stops several meters away from where you’re standing, staring at the space you occupy as if she can feel your presence. It’s astounding how similar she looks to her son, rounded cheeks and cat-like eyes, only older and with untamed hair.   “Hello. I’m Min Chaerin. It’s nice to meet you.” There’s a pause. “I know you’re upset.”   “That’s an understatement,” you spit out, even if she can’t hear you.   “I promise you I’m not scamming your mother. I don’t know what Yoongi might’ve told you, but this is my job. I’m a matchmaker for the dead and I help the living with their grief. He never respected my profession when he was alive and I’m sure he still doesn’t respect it while he’s dead. He’s always hanging around on my shoulder to tell me that...But rest assured, I don’t have harmful intentions….”   She walks off slightly as if trying to get closer, but she misses you by a few inches, staring off towards the painting of sunflowers. “I know you might not want this, but I believe it can help you too. You’re scared of passing, aren’t you? I can sense it.”   You have no idea what this lady is going on about.   “You’re wrong.”   And within seconds, you vanish into thin air. Your aura disappears and Yoongi’s mother sighs, finally left alone in her own peace.   //   It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to find out what happens. On his way home from school, he looks through the mailbox and when he finds it empty, he goes through his mom’s bag to see if she picked up anything important. Instead, he finds a manila envelope and upon turning it the wrong way, the thin sheets of paperwork slide out onto the table, along with your profile and Yoongi’s.   It’s enough for him to go berserk.   “What is this?”   “What are you talking about?”   “This.” The high-schooler whips the papers around in his hands, his boyish features scrunched into wrath and giving him premature wrinkles. “You’re marrying Y/N off to some dead guy?!”   “Jungkook…” your mom approaches with an outstretched, gentle hand. “....sit down.”   “Don’t touch me!” He shoves her back, causing the older woman to stumble, gasping. “This...this is disgusting!”   He screams like it physically pains him, like he’s appalled by his own mother; like he is grossed out by himself and how he’s laid hands on his mom, how he’s losing control of his emotions completely. He feels disgusted by everyone and his own hands. “Why don’t you just let her rest in peace?! Why do you have to do this?! Why is this necessary?!”   “Jungkook.” Her eyes plead with his. “I don’t want your sister to be alone—”   “Do you think she would want this?!” he cries out, tears streaming down his face without him even realizing. Seldom has he been so openly upset. “Do you really think Y/N would want to get married?!”   “I can’t bear the thought that she’s alone!” she finally shouts back at him, breaking down and slumping on the floor as if begging for repentance. “I can’t sleep at night. I can’t eat. I keep thinking about it...how I...I should’ve been the one to die instead.”   The fatigued woman beats her chest as she sobs. The last thing she ever wanted in this world was to bury her own child. “She never got the chance to love, to live, to be happy…..I am her mom and I couldn't even protect her. I...I don’t want her to be lonely!”   “She’s dead. So let her die.” Jungkook’s fists shake and he throws the papers to the ground, coating the cold floorboards in white. “You talk to her picture when you get home, you put food out for her like she’s still alive. I was the one who had to clean out her stuff! I was the one who had to do all the funeral arrangements. And you think doing something like this will make you feel better?!”   The woman calls out to him, repeating her son’s name on his clips, crying for the old child she has left. But Jungkook is cold and his gaze is full of disdain. “Why don’t you just let her die already?!”   He stomps hard enough to bruise his own feet. The door slams, hinges trembling. The two of them cry in different rooms, tears that dissolve the bindings that held this home together. This time, you stay with your mom on the floor. Knees gathered and leaning against the wall, you watch as she weeps into her hands. From the corner of the room, someone passes through the furniture, another ghost that wanders in. It’s not Yoongi or a stranger, but Holly.   He doesn’t bark or yelp for your attention, merely approaching, sensing your sorrows. He curls up in your lap and you accept his affections, holding him close. You cry with your mom and she never knows that you’re right beside her.   //   “Marry me.”   “No.”   “Please, Yoongi?” You never thought you’d resort to begging and it’s beginning to take a hit to your pride. “I promise I’ll make you the happiest man ever.”   If looks could kill, you’d be lowered into your grave for a second time. His glare is cold, eyes cat-like and made of ice. But it doesn’t deter you for a second. “Over my dead body.”   “You said it didn't matter! We’re dead, marriage is a human construct, sound familiar?”   “Doesn’t mean I’d agree.” Yoongi isn’t even a bit curious as to why you’ve changed your mind so quickly. He truly doesn’t give a shit about you.   “Your mom’s going to delay the marriage if she knows we’re still upset over it. I don’t want it to be delayed. If you accept now, we can get it done and over with. Then we can be out of each other’s way.”   “I don’t think you understand something, kid.” Yoongi sits up from the bed, craning his neck to lock his eyes with yours. “Marriage is a human construct, yes. But a spirit marriage is different. We’ll be bounded together. Tied.”   “So?”   “I don’t want to be connected to you in any way.”   “Oh, fuck you too then.” Your fist balls up. He has the most punchable face in existence. “Listen here, Min. I don’t know who you think you fucking are, but let me make this clear to you. I don’t want to marry you, alright? Not in any way. Shape. Or form. I’m doing this for my mom, alright? The quicker our marriage happens, the quicker she can move on with her life.”   You want peace for your mom and for her to have an eased mind, even if it means you have to go through with this stupid thing. This….this marriage means nothing in the grand scheme of things. When it comes to your family — Jungkook and your mom — you’ll do anything that you have to.   But to your dismay, Yoongi scoffs and lays back down. “Yeah, no thanks. Go ask some other ghost to help you out.”   “Fuck you!” you shout at an ear-splitting volume and he grimaces, covering his ears. “I didn’t want to marry you anyway!”   With the last word in, you trample out. Rather than vanishing, you make sure to physically trample out as loud as you can so he can hear. Half of you expects Yoongi to run out of his room and accept your proposal and you would whip around with a curt ‘damn straight’. But of course not.   Instead, you end up marching into the main living area, right as there’s some meeting going on.   There’s a boy sitting at the round table next to a girl, in the middle of a union being discussed. The two of them look up at you and even Yoongi’s mother becomes startled at your presence, stopping mid-sentence to look around the space you’re in. The only person who is clueless is the affluent woman with pearls around her wrinkled neck.   “A-are you alright?” The old woman’s vision strays to where the shamaness is staring. “Is...is there something there?”   “N-no. It’s alright. It’s nothing.”   “Sorry for interrupting,” you mumble and duck your head. The two ghosts don’t respond and you go out quieter, exiting the house in embarrassment. Before you can take a sigh of relief though, one glance to your left and you're nearly scared to death.   “Holy fuck! You scared me!”   There’s a young female ghost staring into the window. She’s startled when she sees you, inhaling a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry!”   And before you can ask any questions, she disappears, body dissipating in front of your very eyes.   “What in the ever living hell.” You’ve never met so many ghosts before. This house was definitely haunted….   With a sigh, you’re on your way, walking across the lawn before you realize what you’re even doing and you spin around. “Is he really not coming out?!”   Goddammit.   With zero shame, you march back in, interrupting the meeting for a second time. The two ghosts watch with wide eyes, and even Yoongi’s mom hitches her breath for a moment, stopping mid-sentence yet again. But there’s no time for any more apologies.   You pass through the walls until you’re in Yoongi’s bedroom again. He’s still in the same palace where you left him two minutes ago — laying in the single bed on top of the train-printed blue bed sheets, staring up at his ceiling.   You never got a good look the first time around. His childhood bedroom is quite cute and cozy. There are knick-knacks on top of the wardrobe and on the shelves, toy cars and superhero figurines with pictures of his younger self that are cuter than you’d like to admit. The music posters on his walls and the stack discs are traces of his teenage years. But his room is fairly neat and organized, empty even, as if he had cleaned up before moving out and didn’t have plans of coming back.   “Fuck off, will you?” Yoongi drags a hand over his face, ignoring the way you’re standing with your hands on your hips, glaring down at him like you’re a disapproving mother.   “No, you.”   “Real mature,” he chides, less angry and with a speck of amusement in his low voice.   “Why are you fighting against me? I thought you already accepted this?”   “I thought you didn’t want to marry me,” he throws right back at you, using his words like a boomerang.   “I changed my mind.”   “Then I changed my mind too.” There’s a ghost of a smirk on his mouth and you release a frustrated exhale, holding back on throttling Min Yoongi to the ground like your instincts are telling you to do.   “Just agree, goddammit! You’re lazing around anyway!” Your arms shoot up, motioning to how he’s lounging on his bed with his arms folded underneath his head like he’s sunbathing on some beach. “We have no choice either way. Like you said, your mom’s going to go through with it — so better now than later!”   “Hmmm….” Yoongi pretends to consider it. You want to strangle him so bad and it’s not like there’s a ghost police to arrest you either. The only thing is...he can’t die a second time and you really can’t afford pissing someone off bad enough that they’ll enact revenge on you. “Let me think about it…...okay…..”   “Okay?!” Your eyes widen in excitement, lips beginning to draw upwards.   “Okay, I’m thinking about it,” he corrects with a shit-eating grin. Your own mouth falls into a straight line and he turns his head to stare at you. “No.”   “Fuck you, mommy’s boy!”   “What did you just call me?” Instead of being offended, Yoongi is even more amused. Your insults keep having a reversed effect on him and it’s driving you crazy.   “A mommy’s boy!” you scream at him indignantly. “You still live with your mom! And she told me you’re always perched on her shoulder like some kind of bird! You obviously got mommy attachment issues!”   He scoffs, finding it utterly ridiculous to the point that it’s humorous. “Are you done?”   “Yes!” you exclaim and his grin widens, having not expected an actual answer.   You’re absolutely humiliated from having your proposal rejected. You’ve been slapped across the face by his apathy too. There’s nothing you can do, but stomp out for the hundredth time. Yoongi yells something that you better not come back to bother him, though the pair of you are perfectly aware you’ll come back sooner or later.   But luckily for you, you’re not interrupting the meeting for the third time. The wealthy lady as well as Yoongi’s mom are outside, ending their long conversation together. The female ghost seems to have gone too. There’s only the male left, standing at the window and staring out at the front lawn.   Your steps slow, tired from being angry.   The tall male turns slightly from his spot. “Umm….hi.”   “Hi.” It’s awkward. You didn’t expect to be stopped by the ghost and you’re especially taken back by how handsome he is, even with the sickly colour of his skin that every dead being seems to have. There’s something mischievous about the way he looks and carries himself as if his youth hasn’t quite passed on yet despite his body being gone.   “Are you getting married too?”   It’s complicated — but with a clenched jaw, you answer in determination, “Yes.”   “Cool.” His smile is sweet. “I’m Taehyung. You are?”   “A ghost.”   Taehyung bursts out laughing, mouth moving in a slightly boxy shape as his eyes crinkle. “Same.”   You haven’t talked to a lot of others since you’re passing. Aside from Yoongi, this has been the only interaction you’ve had. You act like you don’t care and most of the time you don’t, but you didn’t realize how much you missed interacting with someone else, having them see you as you see them.   “My mom’s marrying me off,” Taehyung tells you, looking out the window towards the lady in the driveway. A wistful sigh leaves the seams of his parted lips. “She says it’s for me, but I think it’s really more for her….so she can get a sense of peace.”   You feel him on a spiritual level and you’re a few centimeters away from giving him a pat on the back.   Dead laughter streams out his chest, never reaching his eyes. He murmurs his thoughts like he’s speaking to himself, “She’s controlling even after death. Can’t escape an arranged marriage, huh? Till death do us part, my ass.”   You snort. “Tell me about it.”   Before anymore can be said, something catches the corner of your eyes again; but you’re more prepared and not so startled. Your head turns and you find the ghost once more. This time she’s standing in some bushes on the side of the lawn and you wonder if she’s some sort of stalker.   Your forehead nearly passes through the glass of the window and a muscle in your cheek twitches as your eyes narrow. Her vision is pinpointed on the male beside you, but once she finds you looking right at her, her sad expression becomes surprised and she vanishes again.   “Huh.”   “What is it?”   “There.” You point off and Taehyung shifts. “But she’s gone again.”   His brows furrow. “Who?”   “I don’t know.” You shrug. “Some girl who was looking through the window earlier. She scared the living daylights out of me…..” You smile at your own joke.   Taehyung doesn’t laugh. “W-what did she look like?”   “Short hair. Almond eyes. About...this tall.” Your hand juts out, matching the height you remember and suddenly, there’s a ripple of recognition that comes across Taehyung’s beautiful features.   “Yeonmi?”   “You know her?” Your eyes move to look at him, but Taehyung is preoccupied, staring into the distance with a slack jaw, a frown marring his visage. “Hey! Where are you going?”   The ghost jogs straight through the wall, away to the garden and out of sight.   You sigh. Goddammit. You were just about to ask him to marry you too. But they always run, don’t they?   In life or death, you’ll never be popular.   //   She is heavy, weighed down. It’s an inch on her back that she can’t reach, a tickle at the nape of her neck. Goosebumps erupt and the hair on her arms raise all over her flesh. No matter where she saunters off to, she constantly feels like she’s being watched. “Min Yoongi, if you do not leave me alone, I will exorcise you from this house.”   He scoffs. “No, you wouldn’t.”   Yoongi’s mom washes her dishes at the sink, scrubbing her plates with passion as if trying to release her annoyance on the porcelain. “You can hate me all you want, boy. But at the end of the day, you’re hurting yourself more than anyone.”   He watches her in silence and he can’t find it in himself to disagree. Yoongi does hate his mother. He hates what she believes in and stands for, resents how he never felt her love while growing up, despises how she plays with others’ grief. But he can’t argue or throw tantrums. So he’s made a resolve to never stop plaguing the woman and making her life miserable.   The middle-aged woman’s hands halt on scrubbing. The sponge falls to the bottom of the sink and she turns to her right where he’s hovering, feeling the pressure of his aura that’s increasing in intensity. Yet, instead of being bothered, a long exhale is released from her lungs.   “Yoongi,” she calls him gently with sad eyes. “You’re lonely….aren’t you? That girl that I matched you with, she can help you. You can help her. The both of you are similar in more ways than one, I feel it.”   Yoongi doesn’t want to hear any of it. It’s the first time he admits defeat and walks off. But his mother has his persistence and wipes her hands quickly on a tea towel to follow him as he drifts away. “If you trust me this once. If you believe in me and my work this one time, then you’ll see I’m not wrong. She will help you to peace and you will help her, I am certain of it.”   “I don’t want peace,” he responds calmly, but she can’t hear him.   “You didn’t believe me when I said I could sense ghosts.” She stops and his own feet halt. An extended inhale is taken through her lips. “And now you’re on the other side, you know I wasn’t lying. Why do you think I’d be lying about this? Stop being so cynical and skeptical for once and trust me.”   “I won’t marry her.”   Yoongi disappears, dissipating from his spot. His mother sighs, losing sight of his soul and she returns to the kitchen to finish her chores, mumbling incessantly about her good for nothing son.   In the meanwhile, half across the city in a tiny home, you’re bored out of your mind.   “Hey…..” You’re curled up on the armchair, leaning over to the wooden desk. “Are you going to do anything exciting any time soon?”   “Go, go, go,” Jungkook mutters excitedly with his pupils wide, fingers tapping on the keyboard like his life depends on it. This is the most lively you’ve seen him in the past few months.   “Don’t you have any homework to do, brat?” you nag him even if he can’t hear you. “What about your history assignment? If your grade drops even more, the school’s gonna call mom and you’re gonna be in a world of trouble. Since when did you become so irresponsible? I’ll throw your computer away!”   Jungkook continues to game in the dark. He has no life. No friends.   But at least he’s not watching porn. You wouldn’t be able to stick around for that — you’d probably have to poke your eyeballs out and jump on to oncoming traffic. Still, you didn’t know your dork of a younger brother could get any lamer. He’s been playing all day, eating chips instead of having a real dinner, hasn’t showered at all….god, if only you could give him a noogie.   Suddenly, there’s a whisper in your ear, hot breath skimming on your skin— “Boo.”   “AHHHHHHHH!” You’re scared to death, chilled to the bone, nearly falling out of the plush armchair. Your hand is over your chest, an absence of any heartbeat underneath your palm. “Wh-what the fuck is wrong with you?!”   Yoongi is laughing like the little shit that he has. There’s a gummy grin plastered on his face, the biggest goddamn smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Are you scared of ghosts?”   “Shut up! How the fuck did you find me?!”   His hands are digging into his pants pockets, lips pouted. The only light is from Jungkook’s computer screen, the white hue casting a soft glow on your skin. Yoongi leans against the wall and stares at you. “It wasn’t hard looking for your address when my mom’s written a thousand details about you from your mom. I thought you’d be here….turns out I was right.”   You get up, blocking his view from Jungkook. “Get out. Go away.”   But he doesn’t move, merely tilting himself and jutting his chin at the boy seated in the chair that you’re being protective of. “That your boyfriend?”   “Ew. That’s my brother, you idiot.”   “And you’re calling me a mommy’s boy for following my mom around?”   “Shut the hell up.” You walk through the wall into the kitchen where your brother left on several dim lights. Yoongi follows you out where you can both talk without the noise of guns firing and bullets spraying. “What are you doing here? Did you change your mind?”   “Not particularly.” He shrugs. “I was bored?”   “You were….bored?”   “Yup. My mom was annoying me with her nagging and I have no one else to bother except you.”   “Wow. I’m so honoured,” you deadpan with an unimpressed expression. Yoongi smiles softly, the corners of his mouth curving and his skin bathes in the warm light of the standing lamp. It brings a lump to your throat, but you ignore it. “Did you at least think about it?”   “My answer hasn’t changed.”   “So if I got down onto one knee right now and proposed, you wouldn’t accept?”   “I’d be amused,” he says as if it’ll make you feel any better. It doesn’t.   Yoongi takes a long moment to look around your house. Your home is small and sad, falling apart, though he never makes any comments on it. It makes you uncomfortable that he’s prying into your private family life, looking at the pictures and how you lived when you were still alive. But you guess it’s fair he takes a look around considering you’ve been to his house and bedroom a number of times now.   “Listen—”   “Hello?”   He’s interrupted by another voice, deeper and growly.   A ghoul emerges from the white wall, floating and pale.   Yoongi yells. You scream. The two of you stumble back, scared at wit’s end.   The ghost’s eyes are big and he spits out apologies for not making any noise beforehand. At the presence of a new guest, you blink thrice. “T-Taehyung?! What are you doing here?!”   “I was looking for you and I followed him here.” He points to Yoongi and the latter man recognizes him as one of the clients. They’ve seen each other briefly before, though never exchanging more than a slight nod of acknowledgment.   You turn towards Yoongi, glaring at him for leading ghosts into your house. You’re the only one who should be haunting this place. He doesn’t say anything, solely putting his hands up like it wasn’t his fault and you sigh, turning to the taller ghost. “What do you want from me?”   “I need your help. That girl you saw before. Yeonmi.”   “What about her?”   “I want to marry her.”   You exchange a look with Yoongi. What the hell?   //   Apparently he’s been searching for this girl desperately, going to every place that he could think of only to come up short each and every time. But you’ve seen her….twice.   “How am I supposed to find her, Taehyung?” You don’t know anything about this girl. It was all a coincidence. You only saw her because she was following him. For all he knows, she could be right under his nose.   You decide to shun him, but his desperate beginning continues. Yoongi bids farewell, making it clear that this isn’t his problem. He’s an idiot if he thinks you’re about to let Taehyung pester your family, so you follow him while Taehyung follows you. It’s a conga line — not of dancing, but of haunting each other.   “Please, please, please, Y/N. Help me.”   “I can’t.”   “Can you two be quiet? I’m trying to rest.”   “You’re dead.” You hover over Yoongi’s body that’s laid on his bed again, flat on his back with his arms to his side like he’s a vampire in a coffin. “You don’t need rest.”   “Haven’t you heard the saying ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead?’ I’m following through with it.”   “I love her.” Taehyung drops down to his knees. It’s difficult to ignore him and you shift on your feet uncomfortably. “We knew each other since we were kids and we dated for a while, but then we broke up and I….I still love her. I still think about her. I didn’t know she was still here.”   “What would it take for me to marry you?” you ask Yoongi. “Do you want a dowry?”   “I can’t take anything with me when I go to hell.”   “You’re already in hell.”   The corner of his lip lifts into a smirk. “If you’re here, I’m definitely in hell.”   “Wow, bitch. Be like that.”   Taehyung swallows hard and his rumbling voice drops down into a whisper, “She’s the one I want. No one else.”   You stop, lips falling into a straight line, turning to look down at Taehyung. You take a seat, leaning against the wall with your knees propped up. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open, staring up at his ceiling and Taehyung continues to weep with his head downcasted. Aside from the ghost’s soft sobs, the three of you linger in the silence.   “I don’t know how I can help you. I...really don’t.”   “Y-You’ve seen her before.”   “That was by coincidence.”   “She won’t let me talk to her. She’s running away….but if I could just...if I could just tell her I’m still in love with her….”   You turn your head towards your supposed fiancé. “You should make yourself useful, Yoongi.”   “Die.”   “I’m already dead,” you spit at him, serious and no longer joking around. “I get if you don’t want to marry me. But shouldn’t we at least help someone out who wants to get married? I can’t do this by myself….please?”   There’s an extended moment of silence.   It draws on and on.   You continue to stare at Yoongi.   He sighs.   “......you’re so goddamn annoying.” He gets up and you smile. Taehyung is relieved, looking at both you and Yoongi with a grateful gaze, but your fiancé tells him not to be thankful yet.   //   Yoongi searches through his mother’s profiles. He can’t pick things up from the shelf, but luckily no one in his family has ever been particularly neat. There are things sprawled out in organized messes and he uses the wind to flutter the pages back and forth, searching for the girl’s picture.   You’re on lookout duty, keeping an eye out and following Taehyung closely. She could be anywhere, but you caught her following Taehyung, so there must be something she has to say to him or at least there’s something she wants to do. You suspect her last wish is what’s holding her back.   “Is she in the binders?”   “I’m still looking.” Yoongi flips through and Taehyung tries to help, looking over his shoulder. Yoongi becomes a little uncomfortable and finally understands what his mom feels constantly when he’s hovering over her. Nonetheless, hours pass until—…“found her.”   Yoongi’s mother is humming a song underneath her breath. After a long day, she’s finally able to wind down and relax. The older woman is stretching her shoulders, patting the skincare cream into her cheeks as she prepares for bed. She’s walking over, ready to slip into her toasty covers, but then freezes mid-step, chills sweeping up her spine. She cranes her neck over and souls emerge from the walls.   “Y/N? And...Yoongi.” A grin pulls onto her face. “What a lovely surprise. It’s nice to see you two together. Have you changed your minds—?”   She’s cut off when you’re accompanied by a third.. “Who is this?” The woman squints as the tips of her fingertips tingle. She feels the air around her and stands straight. “I recognize you….you’re that young man from a week ago...Kim….Taehyung….I’m right, aren’t I?”   “Yes, I am!” he chirps, confirming her belief, but she can’t hear.   Yoongi apathetically waves his hand into the air and the slip of paper comes out from beneath the door. Her eyes stray off and when she walks over, she bends down to pick it up. “Park Yeon….mi? This is a girl from a while ago…..”   Yoongi’s mother is confused, but Taehyung approaches confident and firm. “I want to marry her.”   “What do you want me to do with this?” she asks and looks towards the spaces you occupy. Her intuition sings to her and she is quick-witted, catching on fast. “Perhaps...you want to marry this girl, Taehyung?”   His aura morphs into a bright yellow, confirming her suspicion. She sighs. “I don’t know if your mother will accept this. We’ve already agreed to have you with another girl….” Taehyung begins to pour out his protests. Yoongi scowls, turning away. But you stay in your spot, trusting in the woman. She inhales and nods. “But….I’ll see what I can do.”   You smile, full of relief. Even Yoongi appears surprised, shifting slightly with a lifted brow.   But even with things going smoothly, you’re on alert. If possible, you want to get to the girl before she’s summoned.   “I don’t know what my mom will say,” Taehyung admits nervously. “She wasn’t ever approving of our relationship…”   “Well, there’s nothing we can do. They’ll take it from here,” Yoongi brushes off. “You can only hope for the best.”   “I guess….” The three of you walk down the hall, making your way across the manor and back to Yoongi’s bedroom. You wonder if he died in his bed since he has such a damn attachment to being in that same spot. It’s practically his coffin.   “Do you have nowhere else to be? Are you going to keep bothering me the entire day?”   Taehyung pouts. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”   You trail after the pair of them until something passes through the wall. A small animal with stubby legs causes you to stop. “Holly?”   The puppy yelps in response and the two males are too caught up in their banter to notice that you’re left behind. They walk through the doorways, disappearing from sight and you lower yourself to the poodle. The ball of fluff has his tail wagging, happy to see you and a smile itches up your lips. “What is it?”   Your arms extend, about to pick Holly up, but he jumps back and totters the way he came. You frown and he spins back to look at you as if asking for you to come along. You follow the puppy, passing through the walls until you’re outside and you hear tinkling giggles.   “You’re back, puppy?” a light voice sing-songs and you step into the sunlight.   The girl you’re looking for is sitting meters away in the garden. “Yeonmi?”   She gasps, eyes wide and looking up at you. “Um...is this your dog?”   You glance down at Holly. “Yeah…I guess...”   “I’m sorry.” She stands, smoothing out the floral print of her dress and nervously tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t know. I-uh…”   “Wait. Don’t go.” Your hand is extended and you force yourself to remain calm. “Please, listen to what I have to say.” Her teeth sink into her trembling bottom lip and she takes a glimpse over your shoulder. You reassure the girl, “He doesn’t know you’re here. Don’t worry.”   After a beat, she nods, deciding to trust you. The both of you take a seat on the bench, watching Holly wandering around the gardens, teetering from side to side as he circles butterflies and the tulip flowers growing with weeds and untamed grass in between.   “I’ll cut to the chase.” You’ve never been good at sugar coating things or easing in. It’s better to lay it on flat. “Taehyung wants to marry you.”   “W-what?” She is astounded and blinks hard. You’re endeared by how sweet her personality seems and how pretty she is. She’s soft-spoken, but her eyes are bright and despite being dead, they have life within them. “I-I thought he was marrying someone else!”   You shake your head. “He went looking for me to try to search for you. He still loves you...a lot...enough to bother me even after I told him to get lost.”   “I…” Yeonmi toys with the hem of her dress, wrinkling the chiffon fabric in her hands as she bunches it up. “I was the one who broke up with him all those years ago. I broke his heart. I didn’t mean to….I just want him to be happy….and I thought this time, he’d finally be with someone who deserves him.”   You watch her, the way regret has etched itself through her thoughts, words and actions. “I don’t deserve him.”   “That’s bullshit and you know it.” You turn fully to her, almost angry at her reasoning. “Look. You’re dead, alright? There’s no changing that. You’re dead. I’m dead. There’s no point of having regrets now. Don’t make up excuses, okay? If you don’t want to marry him, then say so because there’s nothing stopping you now except for yourself and your insecurities.”   She blinks hard, taken back by your bluntness. “I….”   “Do you love him?”   Yeonmi looks into her lap and she confesses, “I do.”   “He loves you.”   You don’t get it. It’s so simple. Why can’t love and romance be straightforward?   “But I just can’t do that to him,” she whispers. “To throw him away and then take him back again. Taehyung doesn’t deserve that.”   “That doesn’t matter to me.” A voice interrupts out of the blue and the ghost materializes from the wall.   “Jesus, motherfucker! Oh my god! You almost killed me!” For the millionth time, you’re nearly scared to death at his appearance, a hand put over your chest out of reflex. Yoongi follows after the taller male, strolling into the scene with a smirk. You really wish these ghosts would stop sneaking up on you. “How did you find me? I thought you didn’t notice.”   “You were gone.” Yoongi shrugs with pouty lips. “Of course, I would notice.”   Unlike you, Yeonmi isn’t startled or fazed. Both her and Taehyung ignore you and Yoongi, stuck in a small bubble of only them, locked gazes that make the moment all too intimate. She stands and begins to back away. “T-Taehyung….”   “Please don’t run from me,” he begs her with saddened eyes. “Not again.”   “I...I’m sorry.”   “I love you!” He shouts before she can vanish in front of him. Taehyung’s fists crumple and he doesn’t back down to what he’s been thinking about for the past several years, the thoughts that have been plaguing him day and night, regrets that he lived and died with. “I still love you, even after all this time….I haven’t stopped thinking about you, even after you died.”   A ripple of sadness strikes across her features until she’s shattered, breaking down into sobs and rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hands. “I...I broke your heart.”   “You did. But that never once changed how I felt about you.”   It’s sappy and you’re eating it all up. While you’re standing back and next to Yoongi, you watch the beautiful moment like it’s part of The Notebook. “Y-You don’t care that I hurt you?”   Taehyung shakes his head. “You’re my best friend — you’ll always be. And I can’t imagine marrying anyone other than my best friend.”   “Taehyung…”   “I don’t want to marry anyone else. I want you. I will always choose you.”   Yeonmi is the one who steps forward, taking three strides to close the distance between their forms. His arms are stretched and they wrap around her waist. They embrace each other, holding one another close and she cries into his chest and he digs his nose into her hair.   “I never thought I’d get to see you again.” He laughs tearfully, staring up at the white clouds in the sky that’s oblivious to them. “When you died….when you died…”   “I never left.”   “We didn’t get to spend our lives together, but we can spend eternity together,” he murmurs to her and when the words melt your own heart, you realize what a sucker you are for this kind of thing.   You lean over to Yoongi. “What he said.”   His chuckles are muffled and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, making Yoongi look younger than he usually does. “Your attempts at proposing are getting worse and worse.”   “Would it ruin the mood if I dropped down to one knee right now?”   “I’d walk away without looking back.”   You scoff, the two of you whispering back and forth to each other. “You already do that.”   Usually watching a couple blissfully in love would make you feel somewhat bitter and you’d become cynical, knowing that it wouldn’t last and imagining them breaking up and being better off alone. But knowing Taehyung and speaking to Yeonmi, you have a sense that this is meant to be.   And you don’t feel so lonely when Yoongi is right beside you.   //   There’s only one thing left. Everything on the side of death has been reconciled. Now you wait for the side of the living.   “W-what do you mean?” Taehyung’s mother is confused, baffled, and her brows are furrowed deep.   “He came to me and he told me who he really wanted to be with.” She slides the paper over the table. “Do you know her?”   The woman gasps, hand lifting to cover her mouth. Sobs choke out of her throat and she glances up at the shamaness. “Ye-Yeonmi…? But...I...I…” She never once approved when they were both living.   “It’s what he wants,” she conveys the message. “He’s always loved her.”   The words are spoken with truthful sincerity and even Taehyung’s mother knows it.   For minutes, it is silent. Both Yeonmi and Taehyung are seated across from each other, nervous and patient for her response. Would she still disapprove after his death? Even after his last request?   You observe the way a multitude of emotions washes over her face and after an extended moment, she puts the paper down, peeling her eyes off of the deceased female. If Taehyung’s mother even had a trace of skepticism towards Yoongi’s mother, she doesn’t have any anymore.   “If that’s what he wants…” A wistful smile graces her visage. “Who am I to say no?”   It takes one single sentence to hurl the two of them from worry to happiness. They grin at each other, reaching over the table to hold one another’s hands. You’re standing beside Yoongi, leaning against the wall and watching with a smile.   It doesn’t take long. Their pictures are brought together and Taehyung’s mom brings a photograph from home as well, an image of them when they were still children. The ritual begins and you help Yeonmi doll up, twisting her hair, albeit awkwardly, but she still appreciates it.   They sit together in front of Yoongi’s mother, candles lit all around. Taehyung’s mother sits back with you and Yoongi. The shamaness murmurs incantations, letting a warm breeze sweep over the room as the pages in her books begin to flip. Yoongi seems bored, full of distaste, but you make him stay to watch. Deep down, you’re a sucker for sappy things and you can’t help but clap when it’s all done.   The pair of them are overjoyed, content smiles pressed against each other when they kiss one another, trying their best not to giggle when they seal their bonds. They hold hands, fingers interlaced as he teases her for the way her kisses have gotten sloppy.   Yoongi’s mother senses their bliss and tells Taehyung’s mom — the latter woman which has her own content smile, satisfied when the weight of her regrets and part of her grief are off her shoulders. The old woman nods and tears spring from her eyes, crying from happiness.   Taehyung holds his mother without her knowing.   Peace is brought and when it’s all over, you swear Yoongi’s mom turns around to look at you, gratitude present in her smile.   “What are your plans now?” you ask the newlywed pair, trying your best to not let your jealousy show. While marriage never appealed to you, you’ve always wanted to be as happy as they appear. “Going on any honeymoon?”   “Actually…..” she glances at Taehyung. “We...we talked about it…”   He squeezes her hand comfortingly. “And we think we’re going to cross.”   “Cross?” Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Y-you don’t want to stay here at least a bit longer? You can’t come back if you cross over. It’s a one-way ticket!”   “We know. But there’s nothing for us here anymore.” The corners of his mouth lifts, doting gaze redirected to his wife.   “We already have what we want,” she reassures and exchanges loving grins with her husband.   “Well…” Yoongi rolls his shoulders, getting rid of the tension that appeared while he was watching the ceremony. He lazily nods and waves them off. “If that’s what you’ve decided…”   You flash a frown in his direction, unable to understand why he’s telling them to go for it.   But it’s ultimately their choice and you know you can’t stop them if they’ve already made up their minds. If they finished all the things they want to do on this Earth, then there’s really no point in being here. “We really can’t thank you enough.”   “If it weren’t for you, this idiot would still be standing in the bushes and stalking me.” He laughs, flicking her forehead and causing giggles to bubble from her chest.   “Stop, don’t remind me! It’s embarrassing.”   Taehyung grins, ginormous smile plastered on his face, and looks off at you two. “I hope I wasn’t too annoying. Thank you, Y/N. Thank you, Yoongi. And tell your mother I said thank you too.”   “I’m sure she knows,” he grumbles.   “We’ll see you on the other side?” Taehyung asks, knowing that it’s not goodbye forever, or at least that’s what he hopes.   You’re a bit uncomfortable, unable to give a definitive answer, but Yoongi nods again. “Maybe. Have a safe trip, you two.”   “We will.” They laugh, walking off together down the street, hand-in-hand. It’s their last stroll together before crossing. You stare at their backsides, how their shoulders are weightless, having fewer regrets than before.   You wonder if that’ll ever be you someday. It scares you to think about it.   //   The strip of paper flutters in the air back and forth, rolling around in the air like it’s a piece of confetti that was just popped in the midst of a celebration. You’re sitting on the ground, slumped against the wall, playing with the feather-light piece of white paper and watching it twirl back and forth. You wish you could touch and maneuver heavier things or fiddle around with other objects. You already have invisibility down — if you had other powers, there would be no limits to what you could do.   But at the end of the day, you’re not a superhero.   You’re just a ghost wandering the planet.   There’s shuffling across the small room. Yoongi rolls onto his side, arm dropping over the edge of his mattress, his lethargic gaze pinpointed on you. The strip of paper floats to the carpet, your attention preoccupied on him. You look at him. He looks at you. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes and you wonder if he’s sleeping with his eyes open.   “Why are you so quiet?”   “‘M not.” You’ve been hanging out with Yoongi more frequently. When you’re not, you’re following Jungkook and your mom as usual. But nothing’s changed with them — they still haven’t been talking to each other, your mom still grieving, your brother down in the dumps. It makes you feel bad and guilty watching them all the time. It’s a nice change to stop haunting them for a while. If guarding them is your main job, then Yoongi is your break.   And while it’s hard to admit, you enjoy his company. Sometimes nothing needs to be said and you bask in the comfortable silence, lingering in one another’s presence. Nothing feels too awkward anymore.   “You are.” He blinks tiredly, sounding almost concerned. “You’re always yapping off into one of my ears.”   “Fuck off, Yoongi.” You twirl your finger and the tiny paper begins to drift again.   “No, seriously. What’s up?” he asks again, persisting. “You’re weirding me out and I can’t rest properly when I’m thinking about you.”   You’re not sure what to tell him. “How did you die, Yoongi?”   His brow lifts, caught off guard. “That’s a personal question.”   “I think we’re past the point of personal.” You offer a meek smile, locking your stare with his again and the paper lies beside you. “You’re my fiancé.”   “That’s debatable,” he banters back with a soft smile and then there’s a pause before he tells you without any reservation. “It was a plane crash.”   “Oh. Did it hurt?”   His arm folds underneath his head and even if your question is stupid, he answers truthfully, “Not too much. I just remember...people and a lot of….”   “Screaming.”   “Yeah….lots of screaming.”   You were in a bus crash yourself. The vehicle skimmed across the road, tires screeching aloud. While the memories are vague, going by too fast that it felt surreal, you remember looking into children’s eyes, how scared they were as their mothers and fathers held them. The bus teetered from side to side before flipping several times and you recall having no control of your body, hitting against other people, against the walls and floor, against glass windows until it stopped.   Then your eyes saw fire and you felt warm.   But most of all, you remember the screaming. The terrified, agonizing screaming of people dying and calling out to their loved ones for help.   It’s terrifying to think about it, but somehow it comforts you to know that your experience with death is not so different from Yoongi’s own experience.   “You know…” He breaks the silence, swallowing hard. “You don’t have to marry me.”   You lift your head, locking your gaze with his once more. “Screw family and what they feel. You can be selfish. It’s okay. Your mom and brother will recover whether you marry me or not. Time heals wounds. You can leave all of this behind, not worry about them, and cross…”   There’s a thick lump in your throat and you divert your vision away from his. “Why don’t you cross then? You’re sticking around because of your mom, right?”   “I’m not here because I want to be,” he tells you. “I made a promise to myself to haunt her.”   “Haunt her?”   “To make her life miserable,” Yoongi says simply, yet you still don’t understand. She’s an odd and an undoubtedly eccentric woman, but you’ve never questioned her kindheartedness. He seems to read your expression and rolls on his back, eyes shutting. You suspect it's the end of the conversation and he doesn’t want to reveal anymore, but the corner of Yoongi’s mouth moves. “My relationship with her was never good. She told me she could see ghosts and I never believed her. As I grew older, I thought what she was doing was gross — scamming people, the helpless, the grieving…”   “But when I died, I found out she wasn’t lying.” His eyes flutter open again, looking up at the ceiling and the way the paint has chipped in the corner. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s still forcing these ghosts to get married and it’s wrong.”   “Taehyung and Yeonmi…”   He cranes his neck over to you, irises darkening. “We had to intervene to get them married. Can you imagine the amount of souls that were married to each other when they didn’t want to be?”   “.......She wouldn’t marry them if they didn’t want to be….”   Yoongi scoffs. “I’ve been around way longer than you. I’ve seen the things she’s done. I won’t rest until she stops so...you shouldn’t try to marry me. I’ll be here for a really long time.”   He almost laughs as he tells you, words bitter, and you twiddle with your fingers in your lap, head downcasted and unsure how to respond. “I...I’m not leaving either.”   “Don’t wait for me.”   “I’m not,” you murmur.   “You don’t have any reason for sticking around,” he says easily like he knows you. But he doesn’t. “If you’re worried about your family, then don’t be. There’s not a good reason why you or anyone dead should be here. You’re the one who’s suffering at the end of the day. And doesn’t your mom want you to find peace? I’m sure she’d be happy if you crossed over.”   “I don’t know what’s on the other side,” you confess in a quiet voice, slightly annoyed that he keeps pushing you.   His brow lifts and he questions— “Does anyone?”   “I just don’t want to leave all of this behind.” You gather your knees together, hugging them to your chest, protecting yourself against your own vulnerabilities. “Look, I never got to experience life. I never got to travel and see the world or fall in love or any of that. I never had any fun while I was still alive, so sorry I’m not eager to cross over to the dead any time soon.”   “My life sucked. I didn’t get to do anything. I didn’t get to enjoy what I worked so hard for.” You hate how overly emotional you’re becoming, how your deepest thoughts are spilling out for him to hear. You’re an over pressurized capsule with the lid blown off, fists clenched, looking down onto the floor. “At least as a ghost, I can be around my family and go to school and go home and do all the things I’ve wanted to do.”   “I get it.” Yoongi finally understands — you’re regretful and full of self-pity. He empathizes and sympathizes more than you’d think. But what comes out his mouth is condescending, “You feel sorry for yourself.”   You glare. “Fuck off, Yoongi.”   “You’re allowed to feel sorry for yourself.” His lips are pouty and he rolls onto his side again to face you. “I think we’ve both earned that right. But at some point, we just have to ask if it’s doing anything anymore. You feel wronged, but so what? No one cares.”   “Gee, thanks.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “That makes me feel a lot better.”   He shrugs. “If you stopped caring, it’s a lot more...free.”   “It’s hard not to care.” Years of your youth were wasted. You never accomplished anything and you can’t help but feel you lived an empty, unfulfilled and useless life. Everything was taken from you before you could do anything. It’s unfair. “And that’s easy for you to say. Why don’t you just not care about what your mom is doing?”   “Because that’s something I know I can change. But how I lived my life….what I did or didn’t do...what’s done is done. We can’t change that no matter how much we want. We just have to keep looking forward.”   “But we’re dead, Yoongi.” You meet his gaze for the hundredth time, wondering how he can be so wise and his presence so calming. “What’s forward? What’s next?”   “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “We don’t know until we cross.”   “Aren’t you scared?” You look up at him, hiding your trembling hands. “What if there’s….nothing?”   “Then I guess that’s okay,” he hums, strangely gentle. “I’m going to stay here as long as it takes, but not forever. I just don’t think I can be here eternally, tied down by my past, wandering aimlessly. Sometimes...I just want to rest. Peacefully.”   His words shake you to your core and he asks— “Are you scared?”   Yoongi never lies or tries to hide himself. His candidness causes the walls around you to crumble and it makes you answer him with as much honesty as he has shown you. “Very.”   “Don’t be.” He softly smiles, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “No matter where we end up, I’ll be with you, right?”   You scoff lightly, a bit tearful, but you downcast your head into your lap to not let him see how much he’s moved you. Still, you can’t cover the stupid smile that’s plastered on your face. “Are you proposing to me?”   He hums a low note. “Sure.”   “Wait...what?” You raise your chin, nearly getting whiplash with how quickly you move. Yoongi’s on his back, staring at the ceiling with his arm stretched out like he’s trying to touch it. He’s completely casual and nonchalant. “You’ll marry me?”   There’s a pause.   Yoongi is quiet. “I think my mom’s going to marry me off eventually. If not to you then to someone else. She’s been trying to get rid of me for some time now and she thinks marrying me off will placate me or something. I don’t know what that psychotic lady is thinking.” He sighs, but there’s a sparkle of mischief in his irises when he slyly steals a glance at you. “Don’t get me wrong, I still think you’re annoying as hell and obviously after this conversation, I find out you’re a hopeless case too……”   “You have a real roundabout way of saying this,” you complain with an unimpressed expression.   He ignores you. “But if I have to marry someone…….if it’s you...I don’t think I’d mind.”   A scoff spills from your lips and you don’t even realize that you’re grinning. “At least ask me properly, asshole. Do you know how many times I’ve asked you?”   Yoongi rolls away, facing the wall this time. He shuts his eyes and you suspect he’s ignoring you again, but then you hear his mumbles, “Will you marry me?”   It’s barely coherent, but more than you can ask for. A grin spreads across your face, a victorious emotion rippling through your chest and making you feel warm and fuzzy. “Damn straight I will.”   Yes, yes, and yes.   You never envisioned yourself married. But if it’s Yoongi, you could go through with it.   //   The bristles of the broom sweep against the concrete, brushing against the autumn leaves as the flutter from the trees. Colours rich in hue, red and gold and tangerine, coat the driveway like oil paints on a canvas. She hums a soft song, sounds taking flight in the breeze and traveling distances far and wide.   Two souls pierce through the walls, pulling through the physical matter and passing with ease.   You approach her while pondering how she doesn’t get startled. Maybe because she’s used to it by now; she has had the ability since she was born. You also wonder how Yoongi’s relationship with his mother would’ve been different if he saw ghosts too. It is both a blessing and a curse that this gift skips four generations in the Min family. Though you can’t really imagine him as a shaman….it’s a funny thought nonetheless.   “There you two are. Spending a lot of time together, are we?” She smiles, continuing to sweep the driveway. “I hope you’ve been getting close, but at this rate, you both might run me out of business. You seem to be better at matchmaking than I am—” she refers to Taehyung and Yeonmi with a grin.   “You should worry about your own marriage before looking at others.” The older woman works hard to clear her driveway and makes a mental note to invest in a rake instead. It is silent for a few beats too long and she looks up to find you both there. Oddly enough, her son’s aura isn’t red or black. His soul is almost tinged with pastel yellow. “You two…..you want to get married?”   “How many times do I have to tell you?” He drags a hand over his face. “I said yes.”   “She can’t hear you,” you chide with a smile until you feel something brush your leg behind you. One look down and you pick up Holly happily into your arms. “Hello there….”   “Great.” He lolls his head to the side, having too much fun teasing you, “You got a dog to tie me down, didn’t you?”   “I don’t need to use dirty tactics to ‘tie you down’.” You pout, hugging Holly to your chest. “You’re the one begging me to marry you.”   Yoongi scoffs. “I didn’t once beg you. You’re the one who’s been following me and proposing hundreds of times.”   “I can’t hear you,” you sing-song, ignoring him to coo at your puppy instead. Holly’s tail wags back and forth, ears perking upwards. He’s a part of your family now and you’re about to gain one more member into this small unit that you’re quickly calling your home.   You — Yoongi — Holly.   His mother can’t hear your banter, but can feel both of your warm auras. Her instincts sing to her and the broomstick slips from her grasps, clattering to the ground. A grin spreads across her face, elated that you’ve both accepted the marriage and she nearly trips as she runs inside the house to give your mom a call.   It happens so quickly. Maybe because she’s scared Yoongi’s going to change his mind or get cold feet. It’s miraculous that he agreed in the first place. And when your mom comes by, she’s also happy to hear that the pair of you are willing and excited to go through with it.   You’ll do whatever it takes to give her a peace of mind.   The ceremony is a simplistic ritual, candles lit all around and the two of you merely sitting side by side with Holly in front of Yoongi’s mom and your mom. There’s no fancy dresses, no extravagant feast, no hundreds of guests that you don’t know the name of filtering through a massive venue. It’s intimate and small, nothing else necessary.   His mother’s head is bowed and she reads off the pages of her red book. “—through this union and spirit marriage, their souls shall connect, never to leave the other behind—”   “I’m only doing this because it’s convenient,” Yoongi leans in to whisper, but it’s not like they can hear anyway.   “Uh-huh.” You tip your head to one side, pretty smile on your face as you bat your lashes back and forth. “You mean you’re not deeply in love with me? You haven’t fallen head over heels for this?”   “Psh. Not in this lifetime, sweetheart.”   “You’re a blind man, Min Yoongi.”   “No.” He corrects, “I’m a dead one.”   Infectious giggles spill from your throat and as he gazes at you, the corners of his mouth lift until he’s laughing with you.   It doesn’t take too long, just half-an-hour of listening to her words of wisdom and advice, reading off what ministers typically read as they officiate marriages. In hindsight, it’s silly to do such a human thing when you’re both dead. You’re doing this only for the living, but at the same time it’s much deeper than that. Yoongi will become your partner, romantically or platonically depending on you. It’s comforting to know that you won’t be alone. If you ever go to the other side...he’ll be with you every step of the way.   “—and with this, let their two souls entwined together evermore….” Her voice fades off and when you look down, you find your skin aglow. Your stomach feels tingly, but you aren’t sure if that’s the result of the ritual or butterflies bursting from glancing at Yoongi.   “We’re not going to kiss, right?”   “I mean, do you want to?” He licks his lips, half-lidded eyes pinpointed onto your own mouth and he smirks. “It’s not like they would know. We could technically consummate our marriage right here on the floor in front of them and they’d be clueless.”   “Yeah, I don’t think so. You’re five lifetimes too early for that, Min.” �� “What? You’ve never kissed someone before?” He wiggles his brows up and down. “What are you waiting for? If not your dearest husband then who? Unless you’re planning to cheat on me with another ghost….”   You’re slightly amused from his scenario. “Would you kill the person I’d have an affair with?”   “I can’t. But I could strangle them.”   “With those limp arms, you can’t.”   “I know something else that isn’t limp….” he comments slyly and your face scrunches impulsively.   “Gross. Ugh, I’m so over you right now. When can I get a divorce?”   “Never.” He leans in, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. There’s no pressure to it whatsoever, a mere graze of his lips on your skin, but it still catches you off guard. Your pointed glare melts into a pout and he grins. You recognize how giddy Yoongi actually is, unusually hyper and it makes you all the more endeared.   Ironically, at the exact same time, your mention of divorce is overridden by the sound of the book slamming shut. “Yoongi and Y/N, I may now pronounce you as husband and wife, soul partners until the end of time itself.”   The candles are blown out, flames smothered with the warm breeze that suddenly sweeps through the wind. It caresses against the woman’s cheeks, curling through the strands of her hair and even when you can’t feel anything, warmth spreads from your chest to your toes, making you fuzzy and soft.   Your souls are now connected — whether that means. You’re sure it’s more metaphorical than anything. Nonetheless, a sense of bliss ripples throughout your being at your mom’s gentle smile.   “Is she saying anything?”   Yoongi’s mom looks over and sees the colour of soft pink. “They’re arguing.”   “Arguing?” Your mom is both concerned and curious.   “In a good kind of way.” She laughs. “They’re happy. Your daughter is happy to have someone with her.”   The other woman laughs quietly as well and nods in understanding. After a beat, she lifts her hand to wipe at her eyes before tears can start pouring out. She cries in relief.   You wish you could tell her that she was wrong — that someone ended up wanting you anyways. She always entered your bedroom with a pinched nose, saying how no one would want you if you didn’t clean yourself up. But she’s wrong. You found someone. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about anything trivial like that. And it’s not just anyone….   You found Yoongi.

toffee!

no dont apologise! i didnt check until just then so np :)

mmm yeah it is a bit trippy. hehe ITS TRUE THO. yeah sadly i think ur right, and tag blocking is probably a good idea. sometimes smut written well or not in excess is okay but goddamn when its abt 01 line and thats the whole fic... *silently blocks tags*

hehe i do that all the time lol this conversation is carrying on threads from a month ago :) mmm yeah ur probably right sadly, same. HA HE DIDNT HAVE A CHOICE and now i have someone to talk to abt them, so thats good! I KNOW felix was actually the one who got me into skz with his iconique gods menu line so i guess i have a soft spot for him. i always tell myself my bias is chan but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess im more whipped than id like to admit. mmm yeah that does make sense dw i hope they do that as well. YES king seungmin hIMSELF. GODDAMNIT DONT GET ME STARTED ON MINHO IN GODS MENU I DIDNT EVEN KNOW HE WAS PART OF THE GROUP UNTIL I STARTED GETTING MORE INTO THEM. BITCH (affectionate) THE LINE DISTRIBUTION HAS BEEN UTTER DOG SHIT but *deep breath* its better now so were moving on adn hoping it stays that way. sis same but i may or may not have gone thru a rlly depressed phase and actively sought out the elimination episodes so i could actually force some tears out of my emotionless shell of a heart but what cna you do? lmaoo i feel that irl, binnie deserves more vocal lines. yesss channies accent is rlly prominent then, i think also the way he structures his phrasing? is more english speaking than korean? but yeah i totally get what ur saying. AJKSAL lmao

okay then! im excited for whenever it gets done! (maybe tag me?) ahh the cold shrivelled heart of a dark au writer beats again at the thought of torturing another poor characters very soul (/j) :(( yeah that would suck not being able to see them. ohhh ur on the other hemisphere to me! were just going into spring rn. mmm smth to look forward to! YES you put it into words. they rlly are pretty independent from the company (remember how jyp rejected that other dudes songs after like 3 seconds and then how he was apparently nervous to show the song hed written to chan cos chan was so good at writing hits ahhh sweet revenge) mmmYES we rlly need a mute and remove notifications button for our brains dont we?

YES CORRECT i totally agree. some people jsut dont give it a try, adn assume its bad cos its korean smh racist assholes. yes! im coming up to my 6 month anniv actually! sis sAME, i feel like theyre being tugged into appealing to the western american market and theyre not staying as true to their artistic flair as a group, especially with only writing english songs atm. *sigh* ah well, at least theyre bringing recognition to the kpop world. AHUH dead on, theyre going to be discarded pretty soon and then where will bp be? theyll prob go solo paths which is rlly sad but what can you do when the company is run by a prideful asshole? yg is not going to last much longer in the big four if they keep this up.

hehe you get it. oooh very cool! whos ur ult? (sorry if youve said this before) mmmm yeah good decision, i feel liek thats probably a wise decision. this is my first album release as a kpop stan (not counting mixtape oh) so i think ill get it for sentiments sake. yeah! im excited for the new music! mingi was the one who got me into them, but atm my bias is seonghwa followed by san, wooyoung and ateez but jonghos high notes man *swoon* he, yeah atm ive got jake, jay, nikki, jungwon and sunoo down so just trying to get the rest :) heh, yeah kard i rlly only got into cos of bm, ive seen him like interacting with a lot of idols and he seemed nice so i decided to check out the group. ikr gunshot man *another swoon*

no noe! i didnt know what it was until i got it lol. thx toffee ill try and take that to mind :) yeah lol im on a waiting list thats not going to be free until late september so hopefully i can hold on until then. hope ur okay, that sounds like it sucks, hope you can find someone. maybe ill just take you along on my phone and the therapist can get a two for one patient deal lmaooo. mmm, sorry no i havent mentioned it before, i dont rlly talk abt it much. uhhh basically hypermobility? if you google it, it doesnt seem bad, jsut joint flexibility but ive got the severe end of the stick, leaning towards ehlers danlos syndrome so thats fun. basically it just makes it hard for me to exercise, run, jump, stand or just walk for long periods of time and gives me a lot of joint and muscle pain so... thats fun! but obviously so many other people have it worse than me, so i try not to complain. normally in young people it will improve as they get older, but my doctor said bc its severe in me, its unlikely to get much better. but again, i dont have the worst lot in the bunch, so its all g.

oh its good that its not the bad type of rain, a light sprinkling can be relaxing sometimes. aww thx darl, the concern is appreciated but it went pretty well and i managed not to cough too much on stage or kill myself trying to run around to the other side of the stage in the pouring rain so thats good! oooh tea buddies! my dogs a labradoodle, but shes a bit more of a feral poodle lol not much labrador in her at all, unless its her relentless urge to hunt down every bird that has ever walked this earth smh :((( hopefully they can come back on soon, does uni have dances?

ahhh a mood if i ever heard one. hopefully things will get better for you soon, ik anxiety sucks ass. ooh thats always good! when its sunny here, its always melt ur thongs to the pavement hot so the nicely cool sunny days are a lovely change. hehe impatience is not so good for you, but good for us that get to see ur beautiful theme early. ahh no worries, itll come eventually hopefully. and if not, then just things that make you not anxious are good. it doesnt have to be black or white, sometimes gray is good. mmmmm sames i have midterms this week to catch up on and then two weeks of end of terms so thats fun! i hope u can overcome that a little, heres some channie to be ur motivation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8LWyNjzOww. hah! i hear that all the time, he seems to be everywhere. did you see that tiktok of hans slowed back door rap, i stg it sounded EXACTLY like namjoon, it kinda scared me. also teh beginning of another day, sounds so much like joon i swear.

that reminds me! idk ur biases! i feel like this should be smth i should know so please! feel free to elaborate!

ahh im glad, i was worried it is. mmm same, so no hard feelings if either of us misses a day or smth. ill start worrying if weeks/months have gone by, but if its just a little while thats more than fine. ill just picture you studiously completing notes and i wont worry lol

<3 w.a. 🐺

at some point i really think i'm going to start blocking accounts because blocking tags won't be enough. i saw ask tags the other day and it just made me want to bleach my eyeballs.

i could talk about god's menu felix for hours man. the teaser for god's menu that featured his part on the bridge made me look forward to the mv release. you: biases chan, also you: lixiesbabyhands. yes you are more whipped than you think. i can't believe orange haired minho was given NOTHING during that era but they kind of made up for it in the b-sides. i also hope it stays that way. the distribution for this era was pretty fair.

"torturing another poor character's soul" in all honesty, i used to live for this. 2017 me leading up to early 2020 wrote nothing but angst. i have another aussie friend on twt and tbh i'm still really (O.o) about the seasons! jyp should be terrified skz could easily take over that company. heck if skz grow old and start their own company, they'd probably do a great job at running it. PLEASE. i have issues on muting/notifications both mentally and in real life. sometimes, i just wish to disappear.

some people in my country are just disgusting tbh. not only racist but homophobic too. they label kpop as 'gay' and it DISGUSTS me. it's a problematic behavior/mindset people in my country need to fucking get rid of. anyway, HELP ME 6 MONTHS??? and i've been in this shit for like a decade eye. tbh, i’m not fond of kpop groups trying to appeal to the western audience :// it feels like they’re losing their identity in a way. yes recognition but at what cost? yg has my favorite groups but that’s one shitty company when it comes to promoting.

okay my ult! it’s haechan from nct but i consider chan an ult too. like a close second above my whopping list of kpop boys. oh yes! you should get the album just for like a keepsake? remembrance? how did mingi appeal to you? omg did you start getting interested in ateez back when he was still on hiatus? NOT YOU BIASING THE SAME PEOPLE I DID WHEN I FIRST STARTED STANNING. the infamous ateez thot-line. jongho is easily one of the best fourth gen vocalists out here, no one can change my mind :( good luck with memorizing the rest of enhypen! just in time for the comeback too. i hope i’ll get into kard soon but i’m pretty content (and a tad bit overwhelmed) with the amount of groups i stan right now.

please hold on though, feel free to vent here if you like. thanks for the offer tho HAHA but like i’ll try to get checked here too when the cases die down a bit. i’m sorry to hear about your condition though :( please don’t ever overwork yourself to the point that your joints/muscles would ache. it’s completely valid to complain about it tho. i get that you have others in mind but keeping that mindset really doesn’t do you (like you internally) any better? so if you need to, vent your frustrations out and don’t keep it in.

oh my god, about your performance last sunday. was the stage out in the open? glad you didn’t cough too much and did well on your concert. i’m proud of you! i can never understand dogs and poor birds T_T uni doesn’t have dances unfortunately. i think there’s just one party at the end like a graduation ball. what year are you in anyway? if it’s something that you’re fine with sharing. if not, it’s cool.

good luck with your exams! and thanks for the link! AHA what a cutie. i think he does this motivation thing once in a while during his lives and it’s just comforting. yeah joon and han my irl just freaked when we made that discovery. ult crumbs for her. oh god not me forgetting about every biases when you asked. you can ask for my biases in a few groups just list down the one’s you’re interested in knowing. 

i missed yesterday because i was grinding and finishing what if we stay + school work. finally did it today. i’m sure i’ll reply in like a day or two, definitely not a month unless i state otherwise. if i ever decide to abandon this blog, i’ll let you know.

The killing of Rhonda Hinson Part VII

Rhonda Hinson’s East Burke letter jacket

By LARRY J. GRIFFIN

Special Investigative Reporter

The human capacity for deception—both self-deception and subterfuge in dealing with others—is limitless.  And divining the innermost desires of other human beings—even those we live with every day—is far more difficult than most of us believe.  Our vision is obscured by many things, not least our willful blindness to truths that would hurt us if we faced them.—Greg Iles in Cemetery Road

 On Monday evening December 21st, 18-year-old Mark Turner was transported to the emergency room of Frye Hospital in Hickory via ambulance.

He was admitted at 11:43 p.m., complaining of back pain that surfaced around dinner time and had worsened over the ensuing six-to-seven hours.  It was noted by the attending physician that he had persistent back problems attributable to an old football injury.  

Fourteen years after Rhonda Hinson’s death, Mark ascribed his back injury to a more exotic salacious activity, in a statement given to Detective James Pruett.  But his girlfriend in 1981, Jill Turner-Mull, recalled Mark’s explanation to her:  “He told me he had hurt his back playing basketball that Sunday [December 20th], as it was very typical for him to play with his brothers and friends.”

After tests were completed and medications prescribed, Mark was discharged by the attending physician at 12:55 a.m., December 22nd and remanded to the care of his mother, Barbara.  One of the medications that Mark took home that early morning was Flexeril—a muscle relaxant to treat skeletal muscle conditions, such as pain, injury, or even spasms resulting from strenuous activity. Possible side effects include dizziness and drowsiness; however, mental confusion is rare, and impairment of short-term memory is ostensibly non-existent.  

Earlier on that Monday, Rhonda had driven to work at Hickory Steel in temperatures befitting Winter Solstice.  It was already dark, on the ‘longest evening of the year,” when she returned home to Valdese.  When she walked into the house, her mother, Judy, knew that something was wrong.  

“…Rhonda seemed upset when she came home…It was snowing and Greg got here before she did. When she came in, she had a very pretty potted plant.  I asked where she got it and she said, ‘Don’ [her supervisor].  Greg looked at her kind of funny and Rhonda said he gave everybody one.  ‘When you get home, you will see your Mom has one just like this.’  He left just after this.  I asked why he was in such a hurry and she said he was tired.  He had exams before he came home for Christmas and had lost a lot of sleep.”  

Ice had formed on Burke County roads overnight, making morning commutes treacherous on the morning of December 22nd.  Rhonda decided not drive her Datsun to work in Hickory; instead, she made arrangements to ride with co-worker and Morganton resident Wayne Chapman.  She told Mr. Chapman that she would walk the half-mile to the Mineral Springs Mountain on-ramp, which merged onto Interstate-40 E, and wait for him.  

“…I told her to just stay at home,” Judy Hinson recalled.  “Even though she worked part-time since she was 14-years-old, she was always looking for an excuse to stay at home from work—that is until she went to work at Hickory Steel.”  

Since employed, Rhonda had not missed a day’s work at her three-month-old job, and that Tuesday would not be the exception.

“Well, she started out the door to meet her ride with little more than a sweater on. I said, ‘Rhonda, you’ve got to wear a coat.  It’s too cold to just wear what you have on.’  She said that she didn’t have a coat to wear.  She told me that Greg had her East Burke letter-jacket, and she had left her gray, hooded sweat jacket in Mark Turner’s car, when they went shopping to buy Jill a Christmas gift.  

Rhonda Hinson’s sweat jacket

“I’ll just wear Robbie’s jacket,” Rhonda informed her Mom.  

“No you won’t either; Robbie will need his coat,” Judy responded to her daughter. “So she walked downstairs and found a multicolored jacket to wear that morning to meet the Chapmans.”

Rhonda walked out of the door, passed her Datsun parked in the driveway, turned right onto Hillcrest, and down the hill toward Douglas Avenue.

“At the end of the street she stopped to talk to Joann and Donald Glazebrooks,” Judy recounted.  “Donald said he kidded Rhonda and told her she was going to fall.”  Mr. Glazebrooks took note of the multicolored jacket she was wearing that frosty morning and would later identify it for authorities.

As Rhonda continued southeast up the Eldred  Street incline toward the interstate, she was seen by a couple in a pick-up truck.  They stopped and offered her a ride.  Normally, she would have not accepted the offer, but she noticed they had a poodle.  “Well, that was it; Rhonda thought that since they had a poodle, then they could be trusted,” Ms. Hinson laughingly recalled.

The couple, who identified themselves as the Gladdens, conveyed Rhonda to the interstate.  As she started to exit the pick-up, Mr. Gladden said, “You’re not getting out!” Judy explained.  “Rhonda told me—in one of the several conversations I had with her that day while she was at work—that her heart sank.  ‘Suddenly, I remembered the warning you gave Robbie and me about not getting into cars with strangers,’” she told me.  

Mr. Gladden quickly quieted her fear; “It is too cold for you to stand outside and wait for your ride.  We will wait right here with you until it comes.”

 “And they did—they sat there until Wayne Chapman pulled up,” Judy related in an appreciative tone.  “They were a really nice couple; we met them later.    

Around lunchtime, Rhonda called her mother to ask if she had gone shopping in town to buy an outfit for her to wear to the company party that Tuesday evening.  “Robbie and I decided to drive into Valdese in Rhonda’s car parked in the driveway. Well, her Datsun was a ‘straight-drive,’ and I had a terrible time trying to change the gears—thought I was going to really mess up the transmission.  So, we went back home, parked Rhonda’s car in the lower driveway, and got into my little Datsun—that is also a straight-drive—but I was more accustomed to how mine changed gears.”

“I told Rhonda I had brought her home four outfits and she could choose from them what she liked.   She was happy and in a great mood,” Judy remembered.  

Greg McDowell drove to Hickory Steel at lunchtime to take Rhonda to lunch.  She exited the building accompanied by Tonya Benge [Fetherbay], a co-worker and one of the celebrants with whom Rhonda would later attend the company Christmas party. Tonya looked across the parking lot and notice Greg waiting for his girlfriend in a blue Chevy Nova.  She also observed that the front of the car had apparently sustained damage at some juncture.  [According to Civil Court Records, the McDowells owned a 1976, four-door Chevrolet Nova.]

Barbara Turner, Mark’s mother, also saw Greg that day at K-Mart in Hickory. She surprised him as he was purchasing condoms.  In the course of polite conversation, Ms. Turner told McDowell that Mark had injured his back and was resting at home.  Mark informed his mother—upon her returned—that Greg had indeed been by their Indian Hills home.  He and another of his brothers had been laughing about McDowell being caught, by their mother, as he was buying condoms.  Mark indicated that Greg was really embarrassed about the whole incident.  

Darkness had fallen as Wayne Chapman pulled into the Hinsons driveway at 5:30 p.m..  Rhonda jumped out and ran inside to get ready for the Christmas soiree.  The party was to commence at a Hickory American Legion Post around 7 p.m., and she had less than an hour to dress and drive to Sherry Pittman’s [Yoder] at 2015 4th Avenue, NW, in Hickory.  However, four minutes after she walked into the house, she placed a three-minute phone call to Greg McDowell.  

“[Rhonda] seemed very excited about the party,” Judy observed.  “…She tried on all the clothes I had brought home and finally chose what she wanted to wear.  She said she liked all the clothes and when she was in the bathroom, we decided we would keep all of the clothes for her for Christmas.”

Twelve minutes after the initial call with Greg McDowell, he placed a call to the Hinsons’ residence to talk with Rhonda—5:46 p.m.—the call, once again, lasted about three minutes.  Twelve minutes later, Greg called again, at 5:58 p.m., and talked for another three minutes. Each time, Rhonda took the phone into her bedroom to talk with him in private.

“She came out of her room and said that Greg was attempting to ‘guilt-trip’ her for going to the party without him,” Judy reported. “But she told me that she was going anyway.  ‘I am not going to let it bother me,’ Rhonda told me.  “…I asked her what she would do if Greg and his parents were there, and she said I will just come back home.”

At Rhonda’s request, Judy placed a one-minute call to the Pittman residence to tell Sherry that her daughter would be on the way to her house as quickly as she finished dressing.  “After I called Sherry, I went in to help Rhonda dress.”

Ms. Hinson vividly recalled what her daughter was wearing that evening when she left for the party.  Rhonda selected an acrylic, wool, and polyester blend plaid skirt with orange coloring—size 12, a beige blouse, a dark orange sweater, and brown shoes.  “Everything she wore that night was brand new.”

After she dressed, she applied make-up for only the second time in her life.  

Jill Turner-Mull had spoken with her best friend by phone earlier that afternoon.  “She asked me to go to the Christmas party with her.  Well, I told her that Mark and I had plans for that evening, and I didn’t really want to go to the Hickory Steel party—she really didn’t seem too excited about going herself, it seemed to me.  But I will tell you, that decision not to go with Rhonda has haunted me to this very day.”  

That was the last time that Jill Turner-Mull would hear the voice of her best friend.

“After she dressed, I told her that she looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her,” Judy explained, her voice breaking with emotion.  “As she was going out of the kitchen door, she asked, ‘Mom, are you and Dad proud of me?’  Well, the question took me by surprise; I responded, ‘Why Rhonda, of course we are proud of you!’  She said, ‘You didn’t think I could do it—work and pay all my car payments; I haven’t missed one.’  She was proud of that fact.”

By that time, Father Bobby, had managed to drive Rhonda’s Datsun to the upper driveway so his daughter wouldn’t get her shoes dirty.  He sat there for a few minutes and talked with her.  “I told her that there was some sand or dirt in the floorboard of her car, and she needed to clean it out,” Bobby Hinson recalled.  “And we just talked for a few minutes.  Finally she laughed, ‘Dad I have to go; I am going to be late!’  So I got out so she could leave.”

Rhonda backed out of the driveway onto Hillcrest.   She beeped her horn three times and turned around to wave at her Mom and Dad.  That was the last time that they would see their 19-year-old daughter alive.

Rhonda Hinson had slightly more than six-hours to live.

20 Questions with Dr Ferox #6

It’s barely been half a week and we’ve got enough questions for another round. You folks just keep ‘em coming don’t you?

Anonymous said: You don't have to answer this, but I love your twenty questions posts. They're such a variety and everything is so short and digestible. Kind of a fun way to start my day :)             

I’m glad you like them, and now you get to feature in one! Honestly they’re the only way I have any hope of keeping up with all your questions.

Anonymous asked: Question tax: came for some clarifying information, and stayed because of the thought-provoking concepts this blog provides.  And my question is about the recent ask about muzzles? Why are there greyhound-specific muzzles? I'm sorry if you mentioned it before and I just missed it.

In Australia at least, greyhounds have to race in those muzzles. They’re very light weight and are easy to slip on and off. Greyhounds have very narrow heads compared to other breeds, so non-flexible muzzles often don’t fit them very well. A greyhound muzzle is just like a wire basket and can basically be worn all day, except for meals.If a greyhound is not certified through the Greyhound Adoption Program then it has to wear this muzzle in public by law. The GAP certification means it’s been tested safe around small dogs.

@lessdenied said: Hi Dr. Ferox! I came for the fantasy animals, stayed because it's really interesting seeing the tiny differences between US Vet stuff and Aussie Vet stuff! So, question: My rabbit is very sick with Pasteurella, and even though I'm giving him antibiotics and changing his bedding daily (he's got abscesses from it) and making sure his diet is perfect, it's probably terminal. He's old; we're going to fight until the quality of life is gone, but it'll go eventually. Throughout this, his vet's office has been amazing, and gone above and beyond for us. What can I do to thank the vet and her staff? My go-to would be baked goods and a bunch of coffee/tea with a donation to a local shelter--thoughts? I've already given them a good yelp/google review, since there are a ton of vets where I am and I figured that'd be the most important thanks. Question tax: Marmite or vegemite or neither?

Positive online reviews are extremely welcome because they’re permanent and rare, honestly most folks only go to online review places to complain. Food is always welcome, especially if it’s in an easily dividable form to share between staff members.

A handwritten card with a photo of the pet which thanks staff by name is also more appreciated than people think. It reminds us why we’re in this profession in the first place and if you’re having a bad mental health day they can really pick you up.

And Vegemite for life.

@doctorrichardstrand said: Just wanted to say thanks for all of the euthanasia discussions. i'm not sure if you remember, but i asked a question a while ago about cancer in schnauzers, and literally hours after asking that we had to make that decision for her (the tumor was bleeding internally and she was in pain and we couldn't afford an emergency surgery, it was the day after we found it). it's been reassuring to know the hard decision is often the right one.            

A bleeding abdominal tumor is very rarely a good thing. There’s not anything that can be said to actually lessen your loss but I’m glad it’s comforting to know that making a decision at the time is the right thing to do.

@reachyourlimit said: I asked you a few weeks ago if you'd ever seen ingrown hairs in dogs that wouldn't go away. We saw another vet for my dog's annual 2 weeks ago, and there just so happened to be a dermatologist there giving a presentation, so she brought my dog to see the dermatologist, who immediately suspected hypothyroidism since it was on a pressure point but should have been healing. Did a blood test, and she was right, and it looks like they're finally starting to heal…in case you ever encounter this

That’s different. I’ve certainly had hypothyroidism cause baldness but not hairs that are ingrown before.

Anonymous: Hi, I have a mini poodle who was a rescue, she came to me with a docked tail and no dewclaws, and frequently bites and scratches at her tail and the places her front dewclaws would be. Is this common?

I’m not sure what to tell you without examining the dog, Anon. She might have neuromas at the site of amputation, which are chronically painful but sometimes respond to medication, or she might be genuinely itchy as feet and tail base are common sites to scratch from multiple different causes. You need a vet to examine your pet for more information.

Anonymous said: Hi Dr. Ferox! I love this blog and the lovely fantasy masterposts---they've given me much food for thought! I have a question on feline dental care. My 11 yo cat was just diagnosed with feline tooth resorption. I asked about treatment and the doc said it's a thing that's really common in cats and if the cat doesn't act differently or seem to be in pain (she doesn't), then to leave it alone. Is this true? Should I get a 2nd opinion? The cat is otherwise healthy. Thank you!

I would bet you money that if somebody poked your cat’s lesion, it would show pain. Just because a cat isn’t crying or sooking all the time doesn’t mean something isn’t painful. I would get a second opinion, and I would strongly consider having any affected teeth out.

Anonymous said: I think this is kind of a weird question and feel free to ignore it if it isn't FAQ compliant. We took my dog into the vet today for a limp on a hind leg and the doc took one look at it and said "tweaked her ACL." He's got her on anti-inflammatories and a joint supplement (Movoflex, if that matters) with instructions to keep her leashed for 10 days to keep her from blowing out the other one. We've restricted her access to stairs. My mom is the sort that immediately goes and watches ...

Looks like you got my first but not my second? re: ACL. Basically, vet says she tweaked it, we're leash only and no stairs for 10 days + anti inflammatories and a joint supplement then go from there,main concern right now is to see if we can keep from messing up the other one. Mom is finding "cures" of questionable credibility on YouTube, any tips for finding "but can we be doing more?!?" info that isn't BS? Also, any tips for entertaining a super bored dog?            

If it is the cruciate ligament that’s tweaked/sprained/strained/stretched in some way, there’s no ‘miracle cure’ for you to find online. You just have to enforce rest so that she doesn’t bust her other one (as something like 10% of dogs will do).

Strict rest, limiting food intake (because they will gain weight when you force them to be less active) and passive range of motion exercises (lie dog on side, gently move leg through circle it would move if they were walking 5-10 times) is all I’d recommend at this stage.

I generally recommend chew toys or puzzle feeders, since they can amuse themselves with those whilst not moving about much. It’s hard to keep them entertained while confined, but it’s important for their healing.

Anonymous said: I adopted a dog in August.  He had a broken leg (and a recent surgery to put in a rod). I worked with my vet, did PT to strengthen the atrophied muscles, and a few months ago, he was finally cleared to run freely. This weekend, I took him to the park, where he jumped, and fell funny. He cried, and wouldn't put weight on his leg for a few minutes, but within a couple hours seemed totally fine. I'm scared to take him back to the park, but he has so much energy, and needs to run! Any advice?

I’d get his leg checked just to be safe, but jumping is generally a higher risk of injury than just walking or running. You may need to modify your games so that he isn’t encouraged to jump, eg rolling balls along the ground instead of throwing them.

It’s also possible that the implant is aggravating him in some way, although this is uncommon.

Anonymous: do some dogs lose fur on their tails? is that normal? my cousin has a large mutt and he is pretty old. his tail is practically bald. it gets worse when he gets flees so they keep daisy, who gets flees often, away from him. they really love him and take care of him pretty well. but even so i am wondering what's up with his tail

It’s common but it’s not normal. He could have a hormonal condition, or an allergy, or an anal gland problem depending on where the fur loss it. If you know he’s sensitive to fleas then both dogs should be on a consistent, quality flea control as ‘keeping them apart’ isn’t likely to do anything.

Anonymous asked: What would you suggest for chewing for dogs? Dachshund and mastiff-Labrador, the dachshund is more of an aggressive chewer

I’m not willing to give specific recommendations for animals not directly under my care. This is because most chews still have a risk of tooth fractures or choking, and I do not want to be ethically responsible.

Broadly speaking raw bones of an appropriate size can be good, as can any chew with VOHC certification. Things like antlers and rawhide tend to give no benefit, and may actually be detrimental.

Anonymous said: My dog is on Bravecto and Sentinel. (Has had Heartworm in the past/was treated.) We go hiking a lot/live in the woods. Knowing ticks are bad (live in USA), should I take any more precautions? Will those kill ticks before contracting any illness? Can I spray the dog with OFF? Also, having had Heartworm, are there any lasting effects once treated? Thanks!

I don’t know what’s in OFF but you could consider spraying permethrin on the legs and chest of the dog. (Do not ever use in cats). You should talk to your local vet about what tick borne illnesses they see, because we generally don’t see them here and they may vary by region.

It’s certainly possible to have residual scaring in the heart after a heartworm infection, but again you should be talking to your own vet about your dog’s particular case.

@kalessan said: Hi, my question is about goat genetics, I hope that might be interesting for you!  So lots of people believe that a homozygous polled goat has a higher chance of being intersex, but others say this only comes from one small study in the 1940s and might not be true?  Do you know if there is better science on this now?  It would be great to be able to breed for polled and no disbudding.  Thanks very much, I will buy you a coffee :)

So, it seems like homozygous polled goats do have a higher risk of being intersex overall. This is because there is another gene which is closely associated (on the same chromosome) as the polled gene and they are often inherited together. When the goat is homozygous for this gene the females may be all sorts of intersex and the males have reduced fertility.

It’s possible (and desirable) to have some lines where the polled gene is not associated with this intersex gene, but it may take genetic screening and simple luck for us to figure this out and isolate it.

@geneticallymodifiedmemes said: My favorite thing is when I paint my nails or use moisturizer or anything that causes my hands to smell strongly, and my cat seems so offended. I can't blame her, but her shocked face is so funny.

Their sense of smell, and what they find nice/offensive, is different to ours. Also consider the fact that your hands are now coated in this scent, and it’s your hands that pat her, so you will potentially coat her in the scent as well. No wonder she takes offense

Anonymous said: Hello, new follower here! I've seen some of your posts around tumblr (trash bag the cat, goth bunny owner, etc) and just now decided to check out your whole blog. Your information and stories are very interesting to read, even as someone who knows very little about veterinary medicine. I'm more into botany, which is why your url caught my eye - have you heard of the plant Aloe ferox? Anyways, hope this question finds you in good health, and that your week goes well.

Yes I’m aware of them, I have searched my name from time to time to see what Google picks up. It’s a Latin word so its used in a few things, but I actually chose my name from a fictional character.

@decaying-bambi asked: Hello! I saw your post about Rottweilers, I have a "Boxweiler" which is apparently the term for a Rottweiler and Boxer mix..? however I keep looking for tips on how to better care for her and what things I should know about her health (possible growth issues and etc) but I find it's difficult to really find much professional advice about "Boxweilers" she is very well behaved and absolutely sweet but can be a bit of a butt head at times because she's overly playful. Any advice, she's a 60lb pup.

The reason you wont find muck professional advice about ‘Boxweilers’ is because they are a mixed breed that has been given a cutesy name to make them easier to sell. They are not a breed, they are a cross. As such you can consider information about both parent breeds as potentially being relevnt to your pup.

Boxers

Rottweilers

Boxer crossbreds

Anonymous said: what do you think about breed specific legislation? does it help keep people safe or does it just leave a lot of dogs w/o homes?

It doesn’t result in dogs not having homes, it results in target breeds being euthanasied. I’ve talked briefly about Breed Specific Legislation before, and I think while there could potentially be some types of BSL that are useful, in their current form they are not useful for reducing dog bites or protecting the public.

Anonymous asked: Are there any vet shows that you would say have good practices? Because Dr Pol is definitely not one of them.

I really don’t watch vet shows any more. They’re not relaxing, they’re not entertaining and they don’t let me rest my brain. You can’t live and breathe veterinary medicine all the time and still stay sane.

They’re kind of ethically gray too, because producing these shows often require repeated filming which may not be in the best interest of the patient. I listened to some TV vets talk about the process, and how having the film crew interfered with their work and meant they had to take on less cases. Also how they had to do multiple takes of them driving through the farm gate and inane things like that. It’s really difficult to do best practice medicine because it’s often not ‘pretty enough’ for television.

I know that Village Vets Australia did at least try to do everything as well as they could do, but I’ve not personally watched it for the above reasons.

Another anonymous said: I saw what you had written about Dr pol (who's show I've never watched) and I was wondering what you thoughts were on Dr Michelle Oakley because I've been watching her show wilderness vet and I think she seems great but I wanted to get real vets opinion on her.

Again, I don’t watch these shows and I wont watch these shows anymore. I need some part of my life that is not vetting. Sorry I can’t help you.

@lornacus asked: Hows trash bag?

He’s a naughty and precocious kitten, as he should be. Here he is not being murdered by Wonka.

So I sometimes feel a little guilty about getting Ripley (zero regrets! No take backs! Much like Claudius and his throne, I feel a little bad about circumstances, but would not give up what I gained and do not repent), because I kind of spotted and pounced on an opportunity in a small, emotionally volatile window in my household.

I have wanted a GSD since I was a teenager - there are a lot of breeds I think are cool and would not have minded having if it worked out that way. For example, I once fell madly in love with an adorable brown-and-white husky/malamute cross at an adoption fair, and cried when I left after 20 minutes. Like, I seriously would have taken him home and tried to convince my landlords after the fact that it would not be a problem had it not been for the ABSOLUTELY CANNOT LIVE IN A HOUSE WITH CATS warning he came with. OK, it was a reputable rescue so I couldn’t have gotten away with taking him home without proof of landlord permission, but OMG I so wanted to. And I’m not generally even a fan of sled dogs in general! I like malamutes better than huskies or Samoyeds, but I grew up in an area with a lot of dog racers and have hence met a lot of sled dogs and rejected sled dogs and sled dog crosses, and they are not anywhere in my “dream breed” list.

Anyhow, there are a lot of dog breeds I probably could have been happy with, but I’ve had a soft spot for GSDs for 20+ years, and my in-laws’/landlords’ last elderly dog had just been put down shortly before I got Ripley, leaving the house dogless, The primary reason they had a dog in the first place was because large dogs discourage burglars - they got Meg after a break-in, and Lola a year or so later. So while my in-laws winter in Florida and leave the house and left the dogs in our care, they still liked having big dogs on the property - even elderly, disabled, excessively friendly dogs. Meg had died a few years ago (three years ago this April, run over by a door-to-door salesperson), and Lola’s cancer had advanced to the point that we had to let her go early in the summer of 2016.

So the house was dogless, my in-laws were mourning Lola but also worrying about a dogless property, and I had been wanting a dog of my own for years (a no-go with socially-awkward disabled senior-citizen dog Lola), and I saw this ad on craigslist for GSD puppies. L and I had been haunting the local bully rescue groups for ages, but in over a year, not a single rescue bully mix in 250 miles of us was approved for a household with cats, so while we’d seen several we would otherwise have loved to meet and see about adopting, none of them would be safe options with Harley in our house. L would really love to have a bully breed dog, and I also like them - they’re adorable, usually v loving to humans, and tend to be snugglers. L and I also both agreed that we’d enjoy a Rottie, given our experiences to date with the breed. He wasn’t wild about the thought of a GSD because of the whole “slope back”/hip dysplasia thing (I know, I know, that’s not actually a thing and HD is an issue but not related to how a dog stacks. Neither of us knew that at the time). At least he didn’t dislike the dogs themselves the way I actively dislike standard poodles (it’s probably just bad breeding and lousy training, but literally EVERY standard poodle I’ve ever met has been a neurotic, aggressive, kid-chasing, low-bite-threshold complete asshole, and I will literally leave a park or pet store if I see one because I don’t trust them or their handlers at all), but he was concerned about potential health issues.

But there was this ad for adorable puppies, and I convinced my MiL to come and “just take a look” at them (to be fair, I really did think we could just take a look at them and then go meet some other puppies and young dogs, and make a calm and thoughtful decision). And I fell totally in love with Ripley, as did my MiL, and we wound up bringing her home. L knew we were going to go check out puppies (although he had work and couldn't join us), and he does love Ripley, but I basically picked our dog from a breed he was kind of “meh” about because I was the one who took point on Dog Search 2016 and I saw a shot for a dog from my dream breed and I fell in love.

So yeah, we got a BYB GSD, with no research or any real training experience among any of us, and we got PHENOMENALLY lucky - Ripley is a puppy and thus often a total pain in the ass, but she’s absurdly healthy (the vet comments admiringly every time she has a check-up on her physical condition - not just eyes/heart/teeth, but muscle and joint health), incredibly friendly, and (once her puppy fear period passed) utterly fearless. She’ll droop her ears and give me the Sad Face of Ultimate Pathos during the not-fun part of exams, but she’s never bitten/submissive-peed/behaved in a potentially dangerous fashion during any handling (she will mouth your wrist if you try to haul her by the collar, which is exactly why I don’t do that and tell other people to knock it off if they try it, and she did yelp and scramble/squirm when she was stabbed with the big-ass needle when she was micro-chipped, but has otherwise been a very accommodating - if bouncy - dog). I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time researching dog behavior in general and GSD needs in particular, and a variety of training methods (some of which were terrible and ill-advised, so thank you non-Milan-esque trainers in general and @slashmarks especially for the advice about how NOT to handle puppy chomping!) since we brought her home.

But I know L would have really liked to have a bully mix, and honestly, I would have been happy with a bully rescue of pretty much any age, had we been able to find one that was OK to have in a house with cats. But I had the chance to get a GSD puppy, and I took it. And honestly, if we get a second dog, I’m OK with a bully as long as it a) is NOT dog or cat aggressive and b) L is willing to be the primary trainer and handler. Rip is already a lot of work, and she’s smart and interested in making me happy. I’m happy to be her trainer, but I still get frustrated and have to take a lot of breaks as is when she gets over-excited. Working with an adult/late-adolescent dog with ingrained habits that is probably not going to be as willing to try to figure out what I mean when I’m unclear is a challenge I don’t know if I’d be up to anytime soon, and most of the bullies up for adoption locally were surrendered at 9-18 months for behavioral issues/poor manners (and are generally in shelter/foster/kennels for a few months before being adopted out) - there are a lot of 12 month+ dogs who aren’t housebroken up for adoption, for example).

If we get a second dog that is also going to be primarily my responsibility, then it’ll be another GSD (or possibly a closely related breed), although next time I’ll probably go with the whole “research and apply to established reputable breeders who produce the kind of dog I’d like to live with” route rather than the “BYB/rescue and trust to luck” route. I suspect I used up 2-3 lifetimes worth of luck getting Ripley, so I want to stack the odds in my favor next time.

Gracie’s complex spine

PHOTOS COURTESY OF THE BRENNAN-NEEF FAMILY

Halloween 2018 was no ordinary ghouls’ day for Gracie Neef. She and both her parents dressed up as the witches from “Hocus Pocus.” To Gracie’s delight, her father’s costume included a long, blonde wig. Even more unusual, Gracie was an inpatient at Boston Children’s Hospital. “The fact that Gracie was going to spend Halloween in the hospital was at first really sad,” says Gracie’s mother, Lucie Brennan. “But we went trick or treating all around the hospital. It was surprisingly fun.” Two weeks later, Gracie had spinal fusion surgery.

For years, Lucie and her husband, James, knew Gracie would need spinal surgery someday. When she was 18 months old, Dr. Edward Smith, pediatric neurosurgeon at Boston Children’s, removed a fast-growing tumor, called an ependymoma, from her brain and spine. The surgery and the radiation treatment that followed were successful; Gracie has been cancer-free for four years and counting. However, the extensive surgery weakened Gracie’s cervical spine.

The long road of stabilizing Gracie’s spine

Gracie had cervical kyphosis, an exaggerated forward curvature of the upper spine. Though many children with cervical kyphosis do not require surgery, in severe cases like Gracie’s, the spine slowly collapses forward until the vertebrae impinge on the spinal cord.

Gracie with her parents on Halloween

The family met orthopedic surgeon Dr. Daniel Hedequist of the Complex Cervical Spine Program for the first time just before Gracie started a six-week course of radiation. “Dr. Hedequist was very honest with us,” recalls Lucie. “He explained Gracie’s kyphosis and his recommendations for treatment.”

To stabilize Gracie’s spine, Dr. Hedequist would fuse several of her vertebrae. The surgery would reverse the kyphosis but the fused vertebrae would no longer bend or twist and that section of her spine would stop growing. Because of this, Dr. Hedequist wanted to postpone surgery for as long as possible. “Ideally, he wanted to wait until Gracie was at least 8 years old and give her body a chance to grow,” says Lucie.

At first, Gracie wore a noninvasive halo brace that held her head in one position while her neck and spine developed. Eventually, the muscles around her spine grew stronger and she no longer needed the halo. By the time she started preschool, Gracie was wearing a supportive collar. In time, she grew strong enough to stop wearing the collar. “It was wonderful for her to just be free and normal for a while,” says her mother.

Signs of advancing kyphosis

After their first meeting with Dr. Hedequist, Gracie and her parents returned to Boston Children’s regularly for follow-up visits. When she was five, an x-ray revealed that the cervical kyphosis had worsened and several of her vertebrae had started to pinch her spinal cord. After reviewing an MRI of Gracie’s spine, Drs. Hedequist and Smith confirmed that she needed spinal surgery sooner rather than later.

Gracie during a visit with a therapy dog.

Lucie and James had mixed feelings about this news. “Things were honestly getting scary for us,” says Lucie. “Every time Gracie had a bump or a fall, we worried that she would wind up seriously injured. In a way, it would be a relief once she had the surgery. But Gracie was doing so well in so many ways and we knew she was facing a long, difficult recovery.”

Lucie and James decided to tell Gracie about the surgery two weeks before the first stage of the procedure. By the end of the conversation, Gracie understood that her spine was curved and Dr. Hedequist was going to fix it. In the give and take of the conversation, Lucie and James agreed that once Gracie got out of the hospital, she could adopt a puppy. “She has been obsessed with wanting a dog for a long time,” says Lucie. “We agreed that once this was all over, she would get a puppy. It gave her something to look forward to.”

Four weeks and five days at Boston Children’s

The procedure to correct Gracie’s cervical kyphosis involved two surgeries and four weeks in traction. For the first surgery, Dr. Hedequist attached a surgical halo to Gracie’s skull. After that, Gracie spent the next four weeks in traction at Boston Children’s. At the end of those four weeks, Drs. Hedequist and Smith would perform a second surgery in the front and back of her cervical spine with instrumentation to fuse several vertebrae.

Gracie and her walker in the halls of the orthopedic unit

To everyone’s surprise, Gracie made the most of her inpatient stay at the hospital. In addition to a special bed and wheelchair, she had a special walker that allowed her to wheel herself to her favorite places, like the activity room, while the traction slowly lengthened her neck. “She became rather famous for racing around the halls of the orthopedic unit with her walker,” says Lucie. Meanwhile, the family took advantage of the array of services at Boston Children’s. Gracie particularly enjoyed visits from the Pawprints therapy dogs. “She told everyone she met that she was getting a puppy and was going to name her Rosie.”

The weeks in traction had a visible impact on Gracie’s cervical spine. “In photos and x-rays, you could see that things were getting better. Her neck was getting visibly longer,” says Lucie. “What amazed me was how comfortable she was. I’d been so terrified about the surgery and the traction. It was really nothing like what I’d imagined.”

Gracie’s neck became visibly longer after four weeks in traction.

Gracie and Rosie together at last

Gracie remained in the hospital for five days after the fusion surgery. When the time finally came to go home, she asked her parents if they could pick up Rosie that day. “We thought that was crazy,” says Lucie. “Who brings their child home from the hospital after major surgery and adopts a new puppy on the same day? But that’s what we did.”

Gracie at home with Rosie

Gracie had about an hour to get used to being home with a walker before Rosie arrived. As soon as the mini-poodle mix appeared, Gracie abandoned the device and walked over to greet her new friend. “After that there was no stopping her,” says Lucie.

Singing a happy song

In late January, Dr. Hedequist removed the halo and replaced it with an orthopedic vest. Gracie has returned to kindergarten and the friends who stayed in touch with her through Facetime during her long hospitalization. For now, she can’t participate in recess or gym, but she has been cleared to start physical therapy. Lucie notices physical and emotional improvements in her daughter almost every day. “I’ve seen a big difference in her since the surgery. She sings a lot more: Mary Poppins songs or songs she makes up. It’s so nice.”

With the spinal fusion behind them and a furry new family member, Lucie is grateful to the caregivers who made the long procedure bearable for everyone. “It was like we were amongst family. They had our best interests at heart. I feel like they will do whatever they possibly can to give Gracie the best chance at having the best life.”

As her neck gets stronger, Gracie’s spirits grow lighter.

Learn more about the Complex Cervical Spine Program.

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