Jun-ho told In-ho heād send this video to Gi-hun, the recruiter, the masked officer, the pink soldiers and every single player if In-ho didnāt come home. In-ho showed up at their front door in less than an hour
Iām in a spot of financial trouble; therefore Iām taking fic commissions. Prices can be set by you! I have never done this before. Please reach out if anyone is interested.
this is so nicheā¦and dead dove?ā¦but part of me really wants to write a hwang bros au based off āmysterious skinā, where jun-ho, triggered by his trauma in the vip room, starts seeking out older menāmen who take advantage of thatāin a desperate attempt to fill the hyung-shaped hole in his heart; whilst in-ho always believed he was abducted by aliens as a child :,)
you need a lot of strength and inner peace to avoid being ragebaited by the canon creators of your favorite tv show and their terrible writing decisions that ruin your favorite characters.
you also need to be grateful for fanfiction and fanfic writers for saving these characters from their own show by the way.
iām going to hell for this, but this post-games scenario i crafted where a half-asleep kim comes up behind inhoāfully assuming itās junhoāand justā¦proceeds accordingly is taking me out rn. like an easy arm around him, a casual ass slap, a little ācāmereā alongside a fat smooch to the cheekā fully convinced this is his boyfriend.
meanwhile it is objectively the wrong hwang brother and inho is just frozen in shock, unintentionally letting it happen while his soul leaves his body.
kim: āyouāre quiet todayā
inho: *experiencing all five stages of grief in real time*
fun fact: people who get organ transplants need to be on lifelong immunosuppressants (e.g: glucocorticoids) and as someone who has a chronic illness that requires me to be on glucocorticoids for life theyāre very unpleasant and draining not to mention the feeling of being dependent on meds just sucks, so Iāve gotten into many arguments with my family about me not taking the meds some days and I canāt help but imagine that Inho would be in my familyās shoes lecturing Junho about why he shouldnāt skip his meds whoās just so done with it
sorry for the long ramble and I really love your writing so so so much this is not a request just an idea that I wanted to share
hope you have a great day
oh wow, that actually makes so much sense! And yeah, I can definitely picture In-ho being the one pacing around with his arms crossed, scolding Jun-ho about medication while Jun-ho insists heās āfineā š
Thank you so much for sharing this (and for the little insight into what thatās like), it adds such a real layer to the dynamic. and please donāt apologize for the ramble ā it was genuinely interesting to read š«°ā¤ļø
He knew because the clock over the kitchen doorway kept flashing the seconds, every one of them a reminder that Jun-ho was late again. Ten minutes behind schedule. Eleven now. The kind of number that wouldnāt have meant anything to anyone else, but to In-ho, it was a countdown.
The bottle sat untouched on the coffee table. White plastic, amber label, his brotherās name printed in all caps. He could see the faint reflection of it in the TV screen, a glowing shape right under Jun-hoās face.
He wasnāt angry, not really. Anger would have been easier. What sat in his chest was something meaner, fear that chewed and gnawed and never let him rest.
He remembered the monitors, the smell of antiseptic, the way the doctors had said we caught it just in time. The word rejection still made his stomach twist. It had been weeks since the surgery, and every day he had watched Jun-ho get a little stronger, laugh a little more, sleep without gasping, but he had also watched that bottle shrink one pill at a time. Every dose a lifeline.
He stopped pacing only to look again.
Jun-ho was on the couch, legs folded, a blanket around his shoulders, half watching a rerun of some mindless show. He looked fine. Healthy, even. It was almost cruel, how fine he looked.
āJun-ho,ā In-ho said, his voice already carrying that edge of warning. āItās time.ā
Jun-ho didnāt move. Maybe he hadnāt heard him. Maybe he was pretending not to.
āJun-ho,ā he said again, sharper. āYour meds.ā
A pause. Then a sigh from the couch.
āI will,ā Jun-ho muttered. āIn a minute.ā
That was what he had said yesterday. And the day before.
In-ho pinched the bridge of his nose, breath catching. āA minute turns into ten, and ten turns into,ā he glanced at the clock again, āexactly what weāre doing now.ā
āI said Iāll take them,ā Jun-ho snapped.
It hit harder than it should have. The tone. The irritation.
He should have walked away, given him space. But the thought of leaving those pills untouched made his skin crawl. He walked to the table instead and stopped right in front of it.
āTheyāre not optional,ā he said, low. āYou know that.ā
Jun-ho didnāt look up. The TV kept flickering, soundless laughter from strangers who didnāt have to count their hours in doses.
In-ho breathed through his teeth. Donāt shout. Donāt scare him.
He had promised himself he wouldnāt turn into their father. That heād never let worry twist into control, but that was exactly what it felt like now, pacing the same three meters, lecturing, hovering like a storm cloud.
He heard himself say it before he could stop: āI gave you that kidney, the least you can do is take care of it.ā
And the instant it left his mouth, he regretted it.
The words hung there, too heavy, too sharp.
Jun-hoās shoulders went still. His face flickered through a dozen unreadable expressions before he schooled it back into calm.
In-hoās throat felt tight. āI didnāt mean,ā he started, then stopped. Of course you meant it. You meant every part that was fear wrapped in guilt, every part that whispered donāt make me lose you.
He sat down beside him, hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles ached. The light from the TV washed them both in pale blue.
āPlease,ā he said, quieter now. āJust take them.ā
The truth was: Jun-ho was counting, too.
Not seconds. Not pills. Just the number of times he had heard this conversation.
It was always the same rhythm: the pacing, the sigh, the Jun-ho, itās time.
He could have written the script himself by then.
He stared at the TV but didnāt see it. He felt the bottle in his periphery, the label practically glowing with accusation. He knew the drill. Two in the morning, one in the evening. Every day, same time, no excuses. He knew.
He wasnāt trying to be reckless. He wasnāt trying to make In-ho worry. It was just that he was so damn tired of living by the clock.
The pills tasted like metal and dust. They stuck to his tongue and made his stomach twist. But it wasnāt even the taste anymore. It was the weight of it. The reminder that his body wasnāt fully his anymore. That a part of his hyung was inside him now, and that he had to protect it or risk losing both of them.
He thought sometimes about the night before the surgery. In-hoās hand on his shoulder, steady, calm, like it was no big deal to give away a piece of himself. And how afterward, when they had both woken up in separate hospital beds, In-ho had been the first face he saw. Pale, exhausted, but smiling. That kind of smile that said āyouāre safe now.ā
And now, every time he was ten minutes late, that same man looked at him like he was about to die.
He reached for the bottle, just to make it stop. The pills rattled, echoing in the quiet. In-ho exhaled like he had been drowning. It made Jun-hoās chest tighten with guilt and annoyance all at once.
He popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed without water. They scraped down his throat.
āHappy now?ā he said before he could bite the words back.
The silence afterward was worse than any argument.
In-ho sat beside him, elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor. Jun-ho could feel the worry radiating off him, thick as humidity. It made the room hard to breathe in.
He didnāt hate him for it. He couldnāt.
In-ho had always been everything: brother, father, the person who never left. The man who still looked at him like he was eight years old and sick again, like if he blinked too long, Jun-ho might vanish.
āIām not a kid,ā he said quietly.
āI know,ā In-ho answered, just as quiet.
But neither of them really believed it.
The TV flickered again, casting faint shadows across the living room walls. The pill bottle sat lighter now, just a few doses left for tomorrow. And for a moment, Jun-ho let himself imagine a world where he could take them without feeling like he was disappointing someone. Where In-ho could look at him without counting minutes.
He knew it wasnāt that easy. It never was. But still, he wished it could be.
read the new fic awhile ago.I had to put down my phone like four times bc of the second-hand embarassment i felt for inho.
Happy to serve! For those of you who may have missed it, come see In-ho's shame here
Between the Shadow and the Soul
Summary:
In-ho wanted his first Valentine with Gi-hun to be intimate and memorable, something Gi-hun would never forget.
Needless to say, Kim, Woo-seok and Jun-ho would never forget about it, either.
there appears to be a surge of newly created tumblr blogs mass reaching out to people who post anything related to writing (under writing-related tags) and offering to "beta read their works" for them.
I don't know if they are bots trying to trick people into handing their works to them (so they can then use these works to train their ai machine), or if they have any other ill intentions. but the way they are approaching people (and how all of them are newly created blogs) makes me extremely wary.
as someone who prefers to work alone without a beta reader and someone who will only reach out to a trusted friend (whom I personally know) for beta reading, if I ever want one, I don't know if it's normal for people to reach out to random people and offer to beta read their works for them like this, but I've never seen it before until recently. and I've always been under the impression that a beta reader, especially for fanfics, is someone within the same fandom an author is in, and someone who's friends with an author (or at the very least online mutuals). these new "beta-reading blogs" are apparently reaching out to a lot of random people across various random fandoms, and if I'm being honest, they sound extremely sketchy.
I will apologize if they are legit and if they are real people who genuinely want to help, but from how things look right now, I don't trust them. and I'd advise that you be careful, especially now with the rise of scam bots that are plaguing both tumblr and ao3.
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
andulkaphoto
stormborns
janainaart
