đ„» Â ïč  FRIENDLYGHST //  private, dependent blog for @itshoco ⊠penned by jack,  she/her, twenty7
CASPER NAM ïč twenty7 & remanent, jeong yunho âș introduction ïč pinterest ïč introspection
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

â
i don't do bad sauce passes
Claire Keane
DEAR READER
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Three Goblin Art
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@friendlyghst
đ„» Â ïč  FRIENDLYGHST //  private, dependent blog for @itshoco ⊠penned by jack,  she/her, twenty7
CASPER NAM ïč twenty7 & remanent, jeong yunho âș introduction ïč pinterest ïč introspection

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handsome
áŻÂ    closed    starter    â    for    casper    @friendlyghstÂ Â Â Â ïœĄÂ
be right back:  the scrawled message that casper had left just before his accident.  kiwoo stares down at the note.  it had remained pinned to the fridge even after the funeral,  and when he realized his roommate was back,  he had haphazardly shoved the note into the junk drawer.  occasionally,  he would look at the noteâ  evidence that something had happened to casper.  that all wasnât fine.  when he hears the familiar voice filter through the house,  he crumples the note and puts it into his pocket.  âhey!â  his voice cracks on the first word,  âi thought you went out for coffee.â
the sleep heavy in casper's eyes as he shuffles from out of his bedroom. the path from his room to the kitchen a route he could walk in his sleep ( he practically is now ). heels of his palms raise to rub at his sockets as he rounds the last corner, " kiwoo ? is that you ? " voice hoarse. it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to kiwoo's shape in the shared space. the recognition followed by an all too familiar nervous swoop of his stomach. " hey, " his hand self consciously rising to pat down his bedhead, " i fell back asleep instead âŠÂ was about to make a pot, " rounding behind him casper stretches for the empty coffee machine, " want some ? "
starter 4 @friendlyghst !
where : ridley's bed and breakfast .. out on the curb in front, that is. perfect spot for gossiping and also talking to the undead.
act normal, act normal, act normal.   this was helena's new daily affirmation. pressure to be perfect might be self-inflicted, but she can't imagine what the town would say if she were the one to accidentally let her feelings slip. even if looking at casper meant her pulse going haywire and her nerves attacking her with the need to grasp him by the shoulders and go you were dead ! i mourned you ! instead, here she is, settling down on the curb beside him and handing over a lemonade. â mama made that for the guests, but i snuck some out for us. â this is, of course, tantamount to robbing a bank in helena's eyes, which is why she only ever does it for those who're special to her. her foot taps against the floor, nervous tic even when she's pretending to be polished and carefree. â sorry i haven't been around much recently. it's just, you know, with the new priest and all. family stuff. â a missing sister, a cousin returned from the dead, no big deal ! it was all so ridiculous she could've started laughing. â did'ya try my ribs ? at the potluck ? â
there wasn't anyone who would ever use the word perceptive to describe casper nam. too caught up in his own brain to notice let alone discern others around him. that didn't mean he was total oblivious, especially when it came to those close to him. years and years of knowing and hovering near helena gave him ample opportunity to learn to read his best friend. something was off. it's not substantial enough for casper to put his finger on it or speak to it. the air around them twisted more tense then usual. with a half smile he takes the lemonade, a short nod of his head in thanks. he takes in the apology, considers it. that must be the faint hum of tension between them. " you know it's no issue âŠÂ i've been working so much anyways, don't worry, " he tries his best to sound reassuring, but it comes out sounding much too casper-y. " sorry, i wasn't super hungry at the potluck, " features turning sheepish, " don't kill me, ok ? have any leftovers ? "
closed  starter  for  casper  nam @friendlyghst  âŠÂ  !
casper  nam  has  always  been  somewhat  of  an  character;  withdrawn,  but  certainly  not  antisocial,  one  of  the  busiest  people  in  marrow  and  always  a  little  disheveled.  asher  likes  him  â  enjoys  talking  to  someone  somehow  so  different,  yet  not  different  at  all  from  themself.  asher  finds  himself  seeking  casper  out,  drawn  to  him  by  something  they  arenât  sure  they  have  a  name  for.  however,  their  friend  can  be  hard  to  find  out  and  about  in  marrow,  so  instead  they  find  themselves  knocking  at  their  door.  â  casper  !  â  they  call  out.  â  come  work  at  the  library  today  !  â
casper's socked feet pad against the tile of the kitchen floor as he mills about. an uncharacteristic silence floats through the house, a tell tale sign either the other occupants were out or hiding in their own rooms. the ladder exactly where casper could be found until that moment. having come to a pausing point in his newest baldur's gate save, he'd thought to venture out of his cave to see if any of his roommates were out. not that he was looking for anyone in particular, totally not. his goaless meandering broken by the knock on the door and the muffled, but discernible, words that followed. he's quick slipping on his sneakers and reaching for his nearby work bag ( where one of his many work laptops resided ). " i'm coming âŠÂ " he huffs joining the other on the porch shuffling his bag onto his back. casper wasn't opposed to asher's company, something that couldn't be said about more than a handful of marrow natives. for whatever reason a fondness for them seemed to be growing in the recent weeks. it wasn't something he was to think too deeply about. " are you working ? "

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time heals all wounds. but helena thinks there must be a reason for the exact amount of time being removed. time hasnât made it easier to see the returned again and again. time hasnât stopped funerals from flashing in her mindâs eye when she sees faces that shouldnât be breathing. seeing casper is like a gut punch, and she has to force herself to school her features. â you ? in the way ? that could never happen. â weak, breathless laugh that attempts to be teasing. it wasnât just casperâs death that haunted : it was how focused sheâd been on the loss, she hadnât even noticed estelle slipping from her until her sister was gone. two of the most important people in her life, wrenched away in a matter of a month. until casper came back and estelle didnât. â you alright ? need anything ? â
a sense of safety falls on casper's shoulders as he takes in helena. forever a face he searches for in any crowded room. two halves to an unlikely pair. a friendship built on years and years. the familiar face is like a safety net in the swirl of people around them. " i'm ok, i guess, " he gives the hint of smile as he shifts making room for her on the curb beside him, " just not feeling great âŠÂ foggy ⊠" that was the best word to describe it. " you know i don't do well in crowds anyways, figured i'd come out here and get some air. " head bobbing toward the open air of the street. " you having fun ? "
gabe plops right down beside him, using his knees to balance a plate full of food. he's got all eyes for his mac n' cheese and takes a couple of healthy bites before refocusing his attention on casper. "you gotta stop assuming that," gabe says, pointing his fork in casper's direction and digging into another bite. he's not really sure what to say. from what gabe knows, casper died, and yet he's sitting right next to him now, walking and talking and...is casper breathing? gabe can't tell. he takes a sip of lemonade, wipes the back of his mouth with a shirt sleeve. "you're not in the way just for, like, existing." a pause, an almost curious look. "aren't you hungry?"
the smell of the food on gabe's plate wafts into the air. the distinct sent of extra cheesy macaroni and cheese invading casper's senses. forever a growing boy, in most situation the smell alone would get casper craving. instead of the smell sinks through him, unfazed. his brain tries to catalogue the last meal he had but comes up hazy. surely he had breakfast this morning, right ? " force of habit, " he answer simply, watching with careful eyes as the other eats, " guess not really âŠÂ maybe i'll have some in a bit. "Â
Away from the crowd, Elijah fishes a carton of cigarettes out of his jacket. He brings one to his lips and lights it, his back facing the potluck as itâs still happening. Marrowâs a fucking mess, he thinks, with all thatâs happening. Heâs only snapped out of his thoughts by an unexpected apology. âItâs barely a private spot,â he shrugs, as if part of the reason why he chose to be out here wasnât the fact that it had been far enough from other company. Thereâs a small gap between them as he takes a seat on the curb. He takes a drag of his cigarette, then pauses. Glancing sideways at Casper with a delayed realisation, face only half-apologetic. âDâyou mind?â
there's a short twitch of embarrassment in casper's lip before he schools his features. elijah isn't wrong, casper is in the open on a public street during a neighborhood party. he shifts on the curb giving the other ample space to sit down beside him. eyes flicker to the cigarette being lit before quickly shifting back ahead. " go ahead. " he says with a shrug of his shoulders. never himself a fan of smoking himself, he had a coughing fit the one time he'd tried to take a drag. but he'd never judge someone else for whatever their vice may be. " you not about the party either ? " he attempts at small talk.
YUNHO | SFW S/S 2025
đ  a random curb not far from the door's of sancutary church
đïžÂ  open to all ( no cap )
a short puff of a sigh from casper's lips as he unceremoniously lowers his body onto the concrete curb. there's a lingering throb concentrated behind both temples. an ongoing ache he can't subside with ibuprofen, caffeine, calories or sleep. the past few weeks have melded into a blur of time and space, the ability to recount his exact whereabouts only a haze. however, the feeling all together different than the swirl of his brain after days of sleepless nights coding through a particular tough work sprint. was he getting sick ? there was no time for that in his schedule. " oh sorry ... am i in your way ? " eyes fixating on the figure approaching, " i thought i'd be out of the way here. "

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(    jeong yunho, cis man, he/him   )   đž   marrow's own  CASPER NAM, age  27, passed away on  APRIL 20TH. loved ones report that they were extremely  INTELLIGENT and express discontent with rumors that describe them as  RECLUSIVE. according to town gossip, their death was due to  A CAR CRASH DUE TO DROWSY DRIVING  â which is strange, because i could have sworn that i saw them at  BEAR PAW DINER last night.
Natalie DĂaz, from "American Arithmetic", Postcolonial Love Poem
people ask me what im into im just like um idk quiet things alone things
i'm absolutely losing my mind!

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