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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medical play, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, bondage, ruined orgasm, unprotected sex, squirting, oral (m receiving), cum eating (not yoongi for once), this was meant to be a light palate cleanser after the intensity of day ten but i got lost in my feelings in the first half and then got horny over doctor jeon in the second half i apologise

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you

DAY ELEVEN

“I think you should be a little more concerned, PD.”

Sejin flattens the two men - oldest and youngest of the house - an unimpressed look. Jungkook tries not to wilt under his gaze. “And why is that?”

Jin clears his throat, staring right back unabashedly. “Tae’s been involved in a terrible accident and you’re just waiting here. You should be rushing over to the house to save him.”

“A terrible accident?” Sejin questions monotonously, before turning in his chair to angle his monitor so that both boys can see. On the screen is a freeze frame of a very familiar scene - Taehyung crouching on the bottom of the stairs, Jin and Jungkook huddled around him.

Ah, Jungkook realises with sinking disappointment, the cameras. Once the producer clicks play on the recording, Jungkook is faced with the HD version of himself gesture excitedly, patting Taehyung on the back and pointing to the banisters.

Cheeks flushing, the youngest member of the house watches in dread as Sejin plays back the evidence of Taehyung willingly forcing his head through two banisters, ears popping out the other side as he glances up with a beam at Jin.

Having seen enough, Sejin pauses the video, and switches back to the realtime feed. “An accident, was it?” Sejin repeats rhetorically as the Taehyung on the security camera drums his fingers lazily against the wood posts, letting out a lionlike yawn. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue. This wasn’t how things were meant to go at all. Behind Sejin’s desk, the majority of the production van is filled with all the mess of a regular office. Stacks of paper, scribbled sticky notes on various surfaces, a large whiteboard with roughly handwritten schedules and a small game of naughts and crosses in the bottom right corner. Jungkook tries not to let his eyes dwell on the whiteboard too long. Don’t raise anymore suspicion.

Beside him, Jin shamelessly shrugs with a smile. “He put his head through the bars on purpose, sure, but he got stuck on accident.” The oldest - though still younger than Sejin himself - emphasises this distinction with a single outstretched finger and an arch of his eyebrows. “So you should go help him.”

Sejin slips his glasses off and lets them clatter to the table, pinching his brow with two fingers. “Am I gonna get there and have Taehyung ask me for the latest issue of Chinese Vogue?”

Jin stiffens, his mask temporarily shattered. “I requested that in confidence.”

The production manager throws his hands in the air in defeat. “How was I supposed to know which of your bogus requests was confidential? Just half an hour ago I got a call from my superior asking why #getjinanXL was trending. You tweeted that you wanted me to buy you extra large condoms because you ‘ran out.’”

“Well, that was obviously a joke,” Jin rebuffs easily. “You know I use Magnum.”

“How would I-?” With a huff of desperation, Sejin shakes his head to clear his mind. “No, okay, back to…”

Zoning out, Jungkook’s eyes are caught by the sight on the screen as another figure walks out into the foyer. Yoongi rushes forward once he sees Taehyung, crouching on the other side of the bars as he delicately prods around Taehyung’s face and neck. The younger man waves him away in frustration, pushing at Yoongi’s chest until he gives up and leaves reluctantly. Jungkook bites his lip and looks away.

Whoops. Staring right at him are the producer and the therapist, each as expectant as the other. “Huh?”

Sejin huffs. “Why would Taehyung intentionally stick his head through the bars of a staircase banister?”

“Tell him, Jungkookie,” Jin adds with a bump of his shoulder.

“Uh…” With a hard swallow, Jungkook’s mind whirls. “He… We were… measuring,” he finishes awkwardly. “Me-measuring Tae’s head.”

“You were measuring Taehyung’s head?” Sejin repeats flatly. “With the stair banister?”

Jungkook shrugs with what he hopes is a ‘what can you do?’ expression, laughing nervously. “We couldn’t find a ruler.”

Sejin blinks once. “Then how would you know how wide the gap between posts was? Without a ruler?”

“Oh.” Jungkook stares in barely subdued panic at Jin, who widens his eyes meaningfully, urging him to turn back to the awaiting producer. “We, um, we didn’t think that far. We’ll know for next time?”

“If you want to stay on this show, there will be no next time,” Sejin warns.

Jungkook ducks his head in shame. “Sorry, dad.”

“Y- what?” Jungkook hears Sejin cough lightly, flustered. “Please, Jungkook, that’s not appropriate.”

The youngest gives a little bow. “I apologise, Father.”

Sejin clicks his tongue. “Okay, that’s even worse.”

Jungkook glances up, brows knitting and head tilting in confusion. “...whoopsies, daddy?”

Sejin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the hairline. Jungkook spots several grey strands.

Clearing his throat, Jin steps forward slightly. “Taehyung is still stuck, PD.”

“Okay, fine! Fine,” Sejin announces, pushing his chair away from the desk and standing up. “But if there is a single other incident like this, I’m calling in child protective services and getting them to baby-proof this place. No more funny business. Understood?”

“No more. Promise,” Jungkook assures sweetly, heart soaring as Sejin slips past them, hurrying out of the production van and towards the front door of the villa.

The moment he’s well out of earshot, Jin claps his hands once with a victorious grin. “It was a bit touch-and-go there,” he admits, “but that’s bought us time. Quick; get the whiteboard, I’ll grab some pens.”

Jungkook grins. Like secret agents, hyung and him were. Moving quickly, the two of them manage to sneak out the whiteboard from the van, trundling it noisily across the gravel, around the back of the house.

---

“I’ll be honest,” Jimin drawls, “I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just chatted about this. Is the whiteboard really necessary?”

Taehyung deflates immediately, one hand still rubbing at the red marks on his jaw and ears. “What do you mean? I suffered for this whiteboard, Minnie.”

It’s crowded; five people huddled inside the confessional booth. But apart from the bathrooms and the rec room, this was the only place without live security cameras - purely because the only camera needed was the one for the confessionals themselves - and Jin and Jungkook doubted they’d be able to smuggle a very noisy whiteboard into the rec room when Sejin was directly outside it lubing up Taehyung’s neck with aloe vera gel.

While Producer Shin had been lured away by Jin with the promise of a homecooked meal, the four youngest men in the house were bundled into the garden shed, staring at a whiteboard that had barely fit through the door.

Jimin, still unconvinced, shrugs. From his spot perched delicately on Namjoon’s lap he watches the two younger men take a picture of what’s written on the whiteboard, then rub it all out. The man of the hour, Namjoon had been given the right to sit on the only proper chair in the room, the one the producer would normally sit in. Beside it, the wooden stool sits unoccupied. Jimin told the others that he was sitting on Namjoon’s lap because the stool was too uncomfortable, but Jungkook thinks there’s something deeper in the way he relaxes onto Namjoon’s chest, the academic alert but not tense underneath him.

Or perhaps being on this show has made Jungkook more suspicious.

“The whiteboard was vital, hyung,” he defends adamantly, grabbing one of the pens Jin-hyung had handed him, yanking off the cap with a satisfying click. Immediately the alcoholic smell of ink tingles his nostrils, but he ignores it, turning to the others. “What if Namjoon-hyung was a visual learner?”

From behind Jimin’s back, Namjoon adjusts the bridge of his glasses. “I- actually I learn best through listening.” His hand drops, hovers over the space both him and Jimin share, then rests awkwardly on the armchair. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Namjoon-hyung is so cute. “It’s okay,” Jungkook assures, suppressing the endeared grin that tugs at his lips, “We can brainstorm out loud, and Tae and I will just take notes.”

With Taehyung in his Sunday best (well, a button-up shirt so baggy it looked like he hat batwing sleeves) and Jungkook having dug out his glasses to look extra smart, the two of them were prepared to make this as academic as possible for Namjoon. Even after getting laid for the first time, academics were his comfort zone, and the two youngest were happy to oblige.

“First things first; what was it you had to do? Honeymoon?”

Jimin leans back on Namjoon’s shoulder so the taller man can see past. Namjoon shakes his head lightly, his purple hair in serious need of a touch-up; the natural brunette frames his face now, emphasising his brow. Jungkook wonders if he’d let him dye it a new colour, just for something fresh.

“Just husband and wife,” the academic corrects, “It didn’t specify, uh, anything else.” His voice is still quiet, as if speaking on it is taboo. One day he’ll get used to discussing sex openly, but until then, the others will meet him halfway.

“Okay, so, Y/n is your wife,” Jungkook states with a nod, “do y’all have kids? Is it a newlyweds situation? We need backstory here.”

The squeaking of a pen catches Jungkook’s attention before he even finishes speaking. To his right, Taehyung writes in sharp strokes across the board.

Y/N PREGNANT

“It’s the nineteen thirties,” Taehyung announces in a smooth voice, eyes finding each member in the room, “war is imminent, and worldwide men are preparing to be conscripted. Every moment spent with their loved ones is precious, and for General Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung pauses to draw a gangly stick figure giving a salute, “him and his wife Y/n-” this time a female stick figure joins the scene, a cartoonishly round stomach off to one side, “-have only one goal. To knock Y/n up before he goes to battle, so that even if he never returns they ha-”

“Wait, wait!” Jimin cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Isn’t this too dark? Too elaborate? They’re fucking, not going for best screenplay at the Oscars.”

Taehyung deflates a second time, the hand holding the pen dropping limply to his side. “You don’t like it?”

Face stricken, Jimin waves his hands frantically. “No, no, I love it! Honestly! I just- I feel like Namjoon probably wants something a little simpler? Perhaps not so bleak?” The blue-haired man swivels around on Namjoon’s lap, his hand resting inconspicuously on the back of his neck, playing with the longer hairs there.

Namjoon swallows. “Uh, yeah, simple is probably good. Honestly, I feel a little unsure about all of this. What if I, I don’t know, drop character or get shy? Won’t it be awkward?”

Taehyung scratches at his chin as he thinks, the beginnings of beard scruff shadowing his jaw. “If we help you brainstorm, you can just memorise a basic script.”

“I guess so,” Namjoon muses, eyes fluttering unconsciously as Jimin continues to trace the nape of his neck with his fingertips. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you have your own scenes to worry about.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Two birds with one stone, we can help each other. You know; I suck your dick, you suck mine.”

“That isn’t the quote,” Namjoon protests automatically, “but- I get your point. Anyone have any advice on how I even go about this?”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re the smart one,” he points out, “I did try to help but clearly my services weren’t appreciated.”

“Oh, honey,” Jimin coos, “I always appreciate your services.” The double entendre is clear in the silk of his voice and the arch of his brows, sent with a sweet smile, and Taehyung flushes in response.

Jungkook winces, ignoring the spike of - of something green and ugly in his chest. “Okay, enough from the lovebirds, this is about Namjoon. Joonie-hyung, I would just offer to help out and join with yours but I was gonna do mine this afternoon, and I don’t think a husband would fit very well into it.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon assures, shifting under the weight of the man in his lap. His fingers flex on the arm of the chair behind Jimin’s back, unsure. “Taehyung? Yours might work, I guess.”

Unaware of Namjoon’s indecision, Jimin suddenly stands up off his lap entirely, stalking over to Taehyung with a bemused grin. “You think our well-trained Taehyungie could be the family dog?”

Taehyung, though keening under Jimin’s sudden attention, seems hesitant. “I- I don’t know, Minnie, I haven’t really…” He trails off helplessly, casting Namjoon an apologetic stare.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon rushes out, scooting forward to the edge of the armchair. “You don’t have to, I could just do it by myself.”

It’s strange, watching Jimin so visibly caught in indecision. He hovers in the centre of the small shed, torso towards Taehyung but head twisted back to stare at Namjoon. Wanting to support Namjoon, but wanting to protect Taehyung.

Jungkook feels like an outsider invading in on a precious equilibrium. Namjoon shifts, gaze dropping. Taehyung can’t keep his fingers still as they fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. Jimin’s so still the thin silver threads of his earrings don’t even shift in the air, but his eyes flood with emotion, bottom lip twitching just slightly as he seeks for something to say.

Jimin isn’t as mean as he’d like people to think, Jungkook muses. Saving the uncomfortable decision, Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, diverting the attention of the other three. “We could always practice? Jimin, you’re pretty. Pretend to be Y/n and give Joon-hyung some tips.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous. Jimin perks up, turning on his heel to grin down at his elder, who gasps almost imperceptibly. Taehyung’s eyes dull with something akin to disappointment. At himself or at the situation, Jungkook can’t say, but the sight of him turning to the whiteboard and swirling sullen circles of ink on the glossy surface has Jungkook’s heart breaking.

Leaving the other two to talk - Jimin resting gracefully on one of the arms of the chair, his feet dangling between Namjoon’s - Jungkook hurries forward, wrapping his fingers around Tae’s to catch his attention.

“What’s up?” he asks softly, low enough to give the two some privacy.

Sucking on the inside of his cheek, Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing.”

Jungkook isn’t deterred by the shortness of his tone, but changes tacts nonetheless. “It’s a bit weird,” he offers up, “it’s like each of us is the wingman to the other guys, but we’re all going for the same girl.”

With Jungkook’s hand still on top, Taehyung begins to swipe the pen across the board again. This time, what looks like a flower with long, pointed petals takes shape in thick black lines. Taehyung himself stays focused for a few moments of silence, until he’s ready to speak.

“But it’s not just that,” he explains in a low timbre, “it’s not just her.”

Jungkook lets his hand be maneuvered by the deft movements of the masseuse. Every part of Taehyung was so elegant, like he’d been sculpted from marble. From those slender fingers, to the slope of his nose. Lashes that brushed against his brow bone as he focused, teeth pressing just slightly into his lip, a dusky pink. “No, it’s not,” Jungkook agrees after a moment.

Taehyung lets his hand fall, Jungkook’s slipping off. With eyes hidden behind dark curls, the elder sneaks a look at Jimin and Namjoon, the two smiling and laughing, Jimin’s fingers playing with the strap of the watch on the other’s wrist lazily.

“I never know who to be jealous of,” Taehyung admits with a weak chuckle, capping the pen. “Anyways; that doesn’t matter. We’re here to help Namjoon.”

Jungkook spares a glance at the lovebirds on the armchair. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answers shortly, eyes locked on the way Jimin curls onto Namjoon’s shoulder, the two locked onto Namjoon’s phone as he types in notes. “He’ll do fine.” Letting out a deep sigh, Taehyung scrunches his eyes shut and shakes his head, like he’s clearing the funk away. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all in this together.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “But- Well, no, this is still a competition. Technically we should be against each other, not together.”

The air leaves Taehyung’s lungs in a rushed breath. “Fuck, you’re right. I should, like, hate you, right?”

Jungkook hums with a raised brow. “I guess.”

“I should be trying to cockblock you and tell Y/n you have syphilis, yet here I am wanting to suck the dicks of everyone in this room. But also maybe hold the hands of everyone in this room. You can imagine my confusion.”

Jungkook feels his stress slip away at the genuine smile that tugs at Taehyung’s lips. Even if his eyes are still muted with sorrow, he doesn’t seem so despairing over it. The youngest reaches out to grip onto Taehyung’s upper arm reassuringly. “We could have hate sex if it’d make you feel better?” he offers up in a soft voice.

The blue depths in Taehyung’s gaze recede a little more as his smile brightens. “I’d like that.”

The two manage to hold this Hallmark moment for a little longer before Taehyung’s shoulders begin to shake with suppressed laughter. In seconds, the two are dissolving into chuckles and snickers, Jungkook throwing his head back and Taehyung hunching over with the force of it.

Across from them, Namjoon and Jimin pause their excited conversation to stare at them in bewilderment.

“What did we miss?” Namjoon asks, brow knitted but eyes wide.

“Never mind,” Jungkook deflects, heart feeling strangely warm as Taehyung grins under his lashes at him, like the two of them have an inside joke. “We should probably pack up, though, unless we want Producer Shin coming back in the middle of our top secret team meeting.”

Jimin clicks his tongue in agreement and stands up off Namjoon’s lap. Lithe like a cat, his arms come up over his head and his back arches into a stretch, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook knows his eyes aren’t the only pair watching the way his shirt lifts to display a band of pale golden skin.

“Alright,” the porn star lets out with a relaxed sigh, arms dropping and shirt falling again, “let’s head out, then. Joonie’s sorted.”

Namjoon stands up behind him, nodding shyly. “Thank you, guys. I feel a lot better about it now.”

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look. “To be fair,” Jungkook says with a light cough, “I don’t think Tae and I really helped at all.”

Jimin sends the two of them a broad smile, eyes crinkling in good humour. “You did provide the whiteboard,” he points out. “Though I imagine your efforts to steal it without Sejin realising were in vain.”

Taehyung frowns, hand automatically lifting to rub at his jaw. “What do you mean?”

“There aren’t any cameras in here,” Jungkook offers to Jimin, “he wouldn’t have seen it!”

Jimin blinks. “Where do you think Sejin went after helping Tae out of the staircase?”

Jungkook feels the odd pressure of dawning realisation that hasn’t quite materialised. “His office,” he answers slowly, “why?”

Behind Jimin, Namjoon ducks out with a sympathetic smile. “He probably noticed the giant whiteboard missing, Jungkookie.”

The camboy opens his mouth, waits for words to come, and closes it again. “Mm,” he replies eloquently.

“Oh, we’re gonna get in big trouble, huh?” Taehyung mumbles, fiddling with the pen in his hands.

“Wait,” Namjoon offers, “I’ll tell him it was me.”

Jungkook frowns. “How does that help?”

“Sejin won’t get mad at me, he loves me. I’ll just tell him I was getting a head start on my work for next semester.”

“When did he tell you he loved you?” Jungkook asks with a pout. “He never says it back to me.”

“I didn’t- What?” Namjoon frowns. “I was just chatting to him for advice one night and he told me I remind him of his son.”

“He doesn’t have any kids,” Jimin says with a lilt of confusion.

“I think he was talking about his cat,” Namjoon admits with a pained look, “but he loves his cat, so he must love me. Anyways, I’ll tell him I was using it for study and I don’t think he’ll mind. Just clear off the board and one of you can help me wheel it back.”

Jungkook sighs a breath of relief, turning back to the board. Beside it, Taehyung is frozen with his head bent and his mouth dropped open, staring at the pen. Neither Jin nor him thought to bring a duster, so Jungkook balls up his sleeve in his palm and wipes off the-

And wipes off the-

“Why isn’t it coming off?” Jungkook asks frantically, scrubbing over the shiny lines of black. “It’s not even smudging!”

“Um, Jungkookie,” Taehyung utters lowly, curls shifting as he slowly looks up. “This is a permanent marker.”

Jungkook’s hand freezes. He steps back, eyes wide as they stare at the image drawn in thick black.

The blooming form of what looked like a lily on the bottom corner, that was fine, but the giant all-caps Y/N PREGNANT followed by a very evocative drawing of a heavily pregnant woman beside a patriotic Namjoon was going to be harder to explain.

Slowly, Jungkook swivels on his heel, coming face-to-face with Namjoon, whose eyes are almost open wider than his mouth. “Hey, hyung,” the youngest offers up with a tentative smile, “how much d’you reckon Sejin loves that cat?”

It’s late afternoon by the time Jungkook has done his penance with the whiteboard and Sejin himself, but luckily it means that Yoongi is definitely in his room when Jungkook goes knocking.

More content with his own company, the second oldest tended to retire to his bedroom early to “entertain” himself. Jungkook had assumed this was a euphemism for masturbating, but Taehyung had informed him that the doctor was making his way through an impressive collection of the Slam Dunk manga these days.

As expected, Yoongi opens the door to Jungkook on his third knock, ushering him in with a look of confusion.

“Hyung,” Jungkook begins in an entreating tone, “you have a first aid kid in your room, don’t you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, back straightening in alarm. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, no, it’s sex reasons,” Jungkook explains quickly, eyes wandering around the room, eying up the open closet in the back of his room. “Do you have a white coat?”

“I- what? No, I don’t have a white coat,” Yoongi stutters out, face scrunched up in confusion. “What is this about?”

Jungkook hums, brushing back hair out of his face absentmindedly as he delves deeper into Yoongi’s room, checking in the drawers of the small nightstand. “I can make do without the white coat,” Jungkook murmurs to himself, before turning on his heel to face the older man again. “Do you have stirrups?”

“Stirrups?” Yoongi asks incredulously. His arms are folded over his chest tightly, though the brown loose-knit sweater loses the intimidation factor. “Why would I bring stirrups? They’re attached to the chair anyway, I can’t just pack them away in my suitcase.”

Dammit. Jungkook collapses onto Yoongi’s bed back-first, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “You need to help me, hyung. I’m determined to win fan favourite this week, so I need to go all out.”

A sigh of realization comes from the other side of the room. “Your prompt,” Yoongi remarks flatly. “What is it; nurse and patient?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open as he sits up. “Doctor and patient,” he declares proudly. “I asked if Sejin could promote me to neurosurgeon but he said it wasn’t relevant.” The thought dampens Jungkook’s spirits a bit. Even just regular surgeon would have been nice. “But anyway,” he continues, “whatever props you have would be greatly appreciated. I already googled a list of medical terms, so I’m feeling pretty good.”

Yoongi sighs again, but he shuffles over to his closet and pulls out a sizeable, bright green first aid kit, laying it on the bed. Jungkook gasps in excitement and makes room for him, but Yoongi just tuts. “First of all,” he explains while unzipping it, “these aren’t props, they’re medical-grade supplies. And you can’t have them all. I don’t trust you with most of the things in here.”

Jungkook frowns, but shrugs off the disappointment. Something is still better than nothing. “Okay, hyung,” he allows in a small voice, “thank you.”

Yoongi fails to hide the quirk of a fond smile as he takes out some of the stuff in the kit. “You owe me,” he says instead.

You have to give it to Jungkook; the dedication to his craft is impressive.

After he sent you a vague and rather concerning message about needing to see you in the gym for ‘health reasons’, you were greeted by a hand-written DO NOT DISTURB (unless you’re y/n) sign taped to the door.

Inside, the indoor gym had been transformed. Most of the larger equipment had been shifted to one side, leaving the other half open. In the middle of the open area is a weightlifting bench covered in a white sheet which you’re certain was off his bed. A comically out-of-place office chair is beside a table which Jungkook is using like a desk. The desk is pushed up against the mirror which fills one whole wall of the gym, and you can’t help but laugh at the infographics and charts he’s printed out on A4 sheets of paper and taped to the mirror.

There’s a fuzzy x-ray of some ribs taped next to a heart rate line, frozen mid-pulse like he took a screenshot off a video, which is next to a chart filled with increasingly smaller letters, like one you’d see in an optometrist’s office. Though everything is mismatched, the effort he’s put it really warms your heart.

The desk is where you find Jungkook. He sits with his back to you, typing away obnoxiously loudly at a laptop on the desk. On the screen, gibberish keysmashes fill up an otherwise empty Word document. Rather than a lab coat, Jungkook looks more sharply dressed than you’ve ever seen him in a ironed button-up shirt, pale blue. The back of the fabric is taut against his skin, clearly borrowed from a slightly smaller, or at least less jacked man. But it provides a streamlined view of the muscles in his back and shoulders, tucked into belted black pants to highlight the surprisingly narrow waist.

Kitschy or not, you’re grateful that Jungkook got some kind of cheesy medical roleplay if it meant you finally got to see him in fitted clothing.

Even though he must have heard you open the door and lock it behind you, he remains tapping away at the keys. His head tips slightly to the side, expectant.

“Jungkook,” you call out, disappointed and a little confused when he doesn’t respond. But you quickly realise your mistake. “Oh, uh. Doctor Jeon?”

Like clockwork, he spins around magnanimously on the chair, hands splayed out in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, my favourite patient. Do come in.”

So we already know each other then, you surmise. Remembering all these details was an unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome part of this week’s theme. Developing a backstory, information on the scene, almost felt like constructing a scaffold to continue. There was something equally reassuring and exciting about it. A bolt of arousal shooting between your legs, you step in to the middle of the open area, sitting awkwardly on the covered bench.

“Take a seat,” Jungkook adds redundantly, like he’s following a script. “Let me just bring your file up. Name?”

You pause as he wheels back around to the laptop, pulling up what looks like an Excel spreadsheet. “I thought I was your favourite patient,” you quip with a smirk, but unable to suppress your fondness at how much thought he’s clearly put into it.

Jungkook’s shoulders drop, but he doesn’t falter. “Of course, I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been in the field for so long, you know.” He shrugs demurely. “I was actually a neurosurgeon before this.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can catch it. “You went from neurosurgeon to doctor? Isn’t that backwards?”

Jungkook’s eyes waver, biting his lip. “I prefer the simple life,” he offers as an explanation. He shakes himself out of it, and turns back to the computer once more with a warm sigh. “Alrighty then, I’ve got your file here. It’s been a while since your last visit,” he remarks, cursor hovering over a watermarked image of a clock. “I better check your vitals again.”

You watch in bemusement as he readies himself, first sanitising his hands using a small travel-size bottle that’s in the shape of a cartoon shark, then pulls on a pair of latex gloves that had been lying on his desk. Even in the strangely comedic atmosphere, the sound of him snapping the glove against his wrist makes you gasp soundlessly, thighs pressing together in need.

Jungkook notices it, eyes darting down as he rolls his chair over. He unbuttons each cuff off his shirt and rolls them up to expose his forearms. His hair is getting thicker as it grows, and even though it’s pushed back, a few locks slip forward to frame the smirk on his face.

You swallow, neck craning as he gets closer. The bench you’re sat on clearly isn’t intended as an examination table because it’s just as low to the ground as the chair, and there’s something inside you that runs electric when he comes close, looking down at you from it. With spread knees, he places them on either side of yours and pins you there, making you gasp.

The feeling of the cold gloves on your cheekbones, pressing to keep you steady is dizzying, more so when he looks intensely into your eyes, searching with a cool professionalism that you’d never seen from him before. Though it’s new, you recognise the shift in the tension of the room signifying the true start of the scene.

In your peripheral vision, you spot his tongue darting out to wet his lips, but you’re locked onto his gaze. Jungkook smiles softly. “Eyes are healthy,” he remarks, “good to know you’ll be able to see everything properly.”

The gloves catch on your skin, one sliding down to tighten on your chin, tipping your neck back even more. You’re barely breathing, waiting for his move.

“Open up and say ahh,” he instructs huskily, and you’re responding without thought, letting your lips part and your tongue relax. Jungkook frowns. “Wider.” You feel the corners of your mouth pang as you lower your jaw as much as you can in his grasp. “Keep it like that,” he demands sternly, and your heart thuds.

To your surprise, he doesn’t just look inside. You jerk instinctively in his grip as two gloved fingers slide down your tongue, but his rebuking glare has you settling again, trying to breathe through your nose as he delves deeper, smirking at the way you squirm, legs trapped between his and eyes lidded as you feel the length of his fingers heavy on your tongue.

Quicker than you can put your head around, his fingers plunge deeper, far enough down your throat to make you gag, tears springing to his eyes. His fingers leave as you let out a little cough, blinking wetly at him in betrayal.

Jungkook smirks, not bothering to wipe the shine of your saliva off his glove. “Gag reflex intact and responding well,” he notes smugly.

“How is that a vital?” you question, voice slightly hoarse.

“It’s vital for what I’m about to do to you,” he quips with a lecherous grin, and you bite down hard on your tongue to fight the urge to tremble.

“And what is that, Doctor?” you ask instead, blinking owlishly up at him.

His lip quirks. “Don’t play coy, now, Y/n, I’ve seen the way you look at me during our appointments. Tell me; why is it that you came here today?”

You swallow, eyes heavy on him. “I’ve been suffering a strange sensation, Doctor,” you make out, your voice quieter than you intended. “Can you make me feel better?”

Jungkook exhales harshly, hands dropping to rest on your knees. “And where does it hurt, hm? Here?”

You suck in a breath as his legs spread further, coming close enough that your knees press against his crotch, the hardness undeniable. A single hand shifts up to lay against your forehead, questioning, and you shake your head. His hand skims lower, pressing firmly against your sternum where you feel your heart race against it.

“Here?” he questions, and continues on when he receives a negative. Next he veers off to the side, cupping a breast and brushing a thumb over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Does it ache here?”

You whimper, arching into his hand. “A little bit,” you offer up weakly, glad you opted out of wearing a bra in anticipation of the scene.

The answer seems to amuse Jungkook, and you shiver when you feel his other hand playing with the hem of your shirt, the gloves tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach. “I better check it out then, hm?”

You feel so exposed, the air conditioner chilling the air and the mirror reflecting Jungkook’s back as he leans in close, breath tickling your bare shoulder as his hands cup your breasts.

Without further preamble, he begins to roll your nipples simultaneously between his fingers, enough pressure to make you shiver as he studies your reactions closely. The feeling of being touched so intimately with the barrier of latex gloves feels both taboo and exciting, and without even realising you find your hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt, gripping at his biceps as they flex with every movement.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” Jungkook asks lowly, humming in response when you shake your head. “What about this?” Suddenly, he’s tugging, pinching them harshly enough to make your back arch to ease the pressure.

You squeal, fingers digging in deeper to the corded muscle of his forearms. “Yeah,” you gasp out shakily, “h-hurts.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. “But you like it, don’t you?” he accuses as he continues his rough treatment. “Coming into my office, begging me to touch you like this. Fucking filthy.”

A moan slips out as you rock your hips against the bench, seeking friction for the heat between your legs. “Please, Ju- Doctor Jeon, it hurts,” you cry out, gaze imploring as you blink up at him.

All of a sudden, he pulls back entirely, hands falling back onto his own knees as he watches you. “Show me,” he instructs, eyes hazy.

You shiver, the cool air shifting over your naked torso as his stare burns molten hot. “Show you what?”

Carding a hand through his hair to push it back, Jungkook wets his lips. “Show me where it aches the most,” he explains, voice like crushed velvet.

This was a side of him you’d never seen before; neither the competitive dom nor the obedient sub. His sexual versatility never fails to surprise you, and you find yourself hopelessly lost in the calm dominant air he exudes. Shakily, you part your legs.

He scoffs lightly. “That isn’t much help if I can’t see it. Undress.”

A rushed exhale leaves you at his shortness, but you stand up and push off your leggings and panties, kicking them to the side. It’s far harder to bare yourself to him this time, and as you sit, you can’t help but hesitate.

Jungkook raises a brow at your pause, leaning back like he’s disappointed. “I’m a very busy man, Y/n,” he chastises, “these appointment slots aren’t long and if you don’t want the next patient coming in while you’re choking on my cock, I suggest you do as I say, when I say it.”

Your legs fly apart the moment his voice lowers into a growl, clenching automatically at the open air at your most vulnerable place. “Please help me, Doctor,” you plead lowly.

Jungkook curses under his breath and comes forward again, placing a single gloved hand over your core. You jerk instinctively but keep your legs open at his warning glare. Even through the gloves, he has to feel how wet you are, slicking up the latex without him moving it. “It hurts here, hm? Lie down on your back and I’ll take a look.”

Your breath picks up as you turn and lower yourself onto the white sheet, legs dangling over the end. To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t come around but returns to the desk, rolling his chair away and rifling through what looks like a first aid kit. You crane your head to watch him, narrowing your eyes in confusion as he returns with what looks like two rolled up lengths of gauze bandage.

“This isn’t the usual gyno office,” he explains, unravelling one slowly, “so we don’t have stirrups. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure to keep you nice and open for me.”

Like he’s done this a million times before - though the rational part of your brain knows he’s probably making this up as he goes along - he begins using the bandage material to bind your ankles to the legs of the bench, wide enough that you have to shuffle right to the edge, spread wide. He doesn’t say a thing when he ties them, mumbling to himself like he’s recalling instructions, and slips in his fingers to test how tight they are.

He’s kneeled between your open legs now, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he runs his fingertips over your sopping folds, eyes lidded with arousal. “Does it hurt here, Y/n?”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to scoot even closer. “Inside,” you explain, sighing in relief when two fingers plunge inside your walls, scissoring to stretch you out.

Jungkook has one hand on your thigh to hold you steady as he rocks his fingers back and forth like he’s seeking something, and the feeling of the latex, so slick with your juices, has you trembling immediately. “It’s important in this line of work,” Jungkook breathes out as his fingers widen even more inside you, “to be thorough, so just relax for me, let me in.”

The moment you try and unclench, his fingers curl and press up against your g-spot, and it’s like a line of electricity connecting all your nerves together lights up. Your legs instinctively flex in an attempt to close around his hand, but the taut bonds keep them spread, and you sob at the reminder, arms giving out so that you end up flat on your back again.

Jungkook chuckles. “Looks like we found the problem,” he remarks cheerily. His fingers continue their assault, targeted now as you writhe beneath him, and the wet sounds of the latex as he increases to three digits echo obscenely in the large room. “That’s it.”

The joints of your fingers ache as you cling onto the edges of the table for dear life, unable to stop the rising wave of pleasure that threatens to crash. It’s so close you feel it in your teeth, eyes rolling back and babbling nonsense to try and get him to go faster, harder.

Faintly, you hear the sound of him humming in amusement, and your mind conjures the mental image of him, sleeves rolled up and gloves dripping with your arousal, hair falling in his eyes and teeth glinting as he grins and brings you to orgasm. It’s that thought that finally begins to tip you over the edge, and just before the wave crests, you feel his fingers slip out.

“Looks like it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he remarks cheekily.

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you blabber mindlessly, but it’s too late, and your orgasm washes through you as he sits back and watches the unsatisfying roll of pleasure take your body.

Irrationally, you feel tears prick at your eyes with the cruelness of his actions. “It sti- It still hurts, Doctor,” you sob, reaching a hand down to cup yourself, wanting more even as you hiss with the sensitivity.

Jungkook tuts in fake sympathy. “My fingers can’t reach any further, Y/n, if I couldn’t reach where it hurts, I don’t know how I can help you.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you blink your eyes open again, struggling to focus on him. “Use your cock, Doctor, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Is that so?” You could just about cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle jingling, and Jungkook kneeling over you, lining himself up. You can feel the tip pressed against your entrance, just enough pressure to tease you. “Too impatient for me to even put a condom on, naughty girl.”

“Fuck, I don’t care, just fuck me, Doctor,” you whine, your sentence punctuated by a strangled cry as Jungkook snaps his hips forward, bottoming out in a single thrust.

Somehow you’d forgotten just how long Jungkook was - while he wasn’t the thickest or overall largest, and even the thought of mentally cataloguing the guys’ dicks was strange - there was a graceful rising curve to his length that felt like it pierced right through you, and as he starts a punishing rhythm, you feel the air punched right out of your lungs.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jungkook growls. “Acting innocent when you just wanted my cock to fuck you stupid, hm?”

With every thrust, your body is rocked back and forth on the bench, and you feel the bandages that bind your ankles to the legs of the table loosen, a little bit at first and then enough that they slip off completely. It feels odd to no longer be tied down, and Jungkook notices how your body is suddenly shifting far more than it was before.

His pace slows down and you feel a gloved hand wrap around one of your ankles. “Do you want them back on? I don’t think I tied them so well,” Jungkook notes hesitantly, and if you weren’t wildly chasing your orgasm, you might have cooed at his character dropping away to reveal the Jungkook you’re more used to.

As it is, your mind can only care about one thing. “I don’ need them, just fuck me!” you plead, and Jungkook exhales sharply, lifting your ankle until it rests on his shoulder, holding down your hips to fuck into you once more.

With the new angle, you can just about feel him in your guts, and your mouth drops open soundlessly, the only noises escaping your lips are gasped breaths as you feel a deeper orgasm begin to build.

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” you manage to slur out, a raw scream bouncing off the walls as he lowers a hand to rub at your clit, the slippery glove only making him thumb it faster. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking-ah!”

Your sentence is cut off violently as an orgasm rips through you as suddenly and overwhelmingly as an electric shock. If you’re making any noise, you can’t hear it, your mind like white static as you sit there and let it take you. Every inch of you is singing, down to your toes, and as Jungkook continues to fuck you into oversensitivity, you feel another release, one that makes you shudder and Jungkook swear violently, spilling inside you as he grips at the flesh of your hip.

It takes a while for the blur in your mind to clear, vision swirling in hazy technicolour and whole body trembling. Jungkook must have taken the gloves off at some point, because you feel the softness of his hands as they seek out yours, gently squeezing to rouse you more.

“Y/n,” you hear him say, voice still distant. The fog dissipates more with the calling of your name, and you feel yourself tune in again, once more becoming aware of the cool breeze of the aircon on your heated skin. Jungkook leans over you, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Y/n. Have you ever done that before?”

You knit your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, sitting back. He’s still inside you, barely softening, and you groan at the sensitivity of him shifting. “Look,” he guides, and you glance down to see your stomach and thighs, shiny with wetness, too thin to be cum. The liquid soaks his shirt, too, leaving dark patches. “That was fucking hot,” Jungkook gushes, his doctor persona well and truly evaporated by now.

You laugh weakly, an exhausted smile stretching at your lips. “I don’t think so? Fuck, that was a lot.”

“You were amazing,” Jungkook praises, squeezing your hands one last time before letting them go. He begins to pull out, then, and you shudder at the emptiness, remnants of his cum dripping out of you as he lowers your leg to the ground again. You sit up carefully, still lightheaded, and watch as he quickly rushes over to the desk, returning with a gauze pad damp with water from a bottle.

He uses it to clean you up in comfortable silence, though you can’t help but bite your lip when you notice he’s still hard. Just as he finishes wiping away the last of the wetness from your thighs and begins to wipe himself off, you reach out a hand to halt him.

“Doctor,” you coo teasingly, “won’t you let me clean you up? I wanna repay you for making the ache go away.”

His chest heaves as he shudders out a breath. “Really?”

You blink up at him as he stands in front of you, his cock right in front of you, glossy with your combined cum. “Don’t you wanna test my vitals one more time, doctor? Just to make sure?”

He gulps as you lean closer and lick a single stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s only slightly bitter, and well worth it for the look on his face and the feeling of his hands carding through your hair.

“I’ve got some filing to do,” Jungkook offers up, chest puffing as he slips back into his role, “if you’re going to clean me up like a good little girl, you can do it while I get back to work. I’m a busy man.”

You bite your lip as he cups the back of your neck and urges you to stand, leading you towards the desk. It’s just tall enough that you can sit on your knees below it, mouthing at his cock as he sits back in the office chair.

Giving a guy head isn’t your favourite hobby, but there’s something weirdly erotic about licking your own cum off of him as he types away, all but ignoring you. As you clean him up dutifully, you realise it’s a challenge, of sorts, to suck him off so well that he breaks concentration.

His jaunty clicks of the mouse and punching of keys continues away as he sighs lowly, feeling your lips wrap around his tip. You tongue the slit, keeping yourself steady by gripping the meat of his inner thighs and let your eyes slip shut so that you can fully focus on the minute sounds he lets out.

As you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, testing your limits, you begin to learn the rhythm of his typing, recognising what makes it falter. His tip is sensitive, particularly where it meets the shaft, but it’s when you lap at the skin below his base and suck his balls into your mouth, tonguing at them languidly, that makes him break concentration fully.

“Hngh, fuck,” you hear him make out in a strangled voice, a hand coming down to stroke at his own length.

You bat it away immediately. “I thought you needed to work, Doctor,” you tease, “just let me take care of it.”

Jungkook groans but doesn’t protest when you wrap a hand around him and jerk him off, fingers tight around him as you suck at his perineum, making him moan prettily, the tapping of keys sparse and uncoordinated.

“Fuck, gonna- gonna cum again,” he warns, thighs tensing with the urge to thrust up into your grip.

You switch positions to suck his length into your mouth, rolling his balls in your hand and bobbing your head. Jungkook’s falling apart so beautifully, gasping out little ah, ah, ahs with every breath.

The moment you feel him stiffen up even more, you suck in a breath through your nose and swallow him down to the back of your throat, tearing up as your gag reflex kicks in.

He cums with a cry, shooting ropes of cum down your throat, and you wring out every last drop until he’s hissing and pulling away.

Jungkook helps you up from under the table with shaky hands and tucks himself away, panting. “Holy shit,” he says with a exhausted laugh, “I should have gone to medical school.”

The two of you spend the late afternoon showering and then returning the gym to its former glory. It’s not until even dinner has passed before you recall the rule of the Bangasm Bomb - a different bed every night.

You’d slept in Jungkook’s bed on the Monday night, and so you’d have to seek shelter elsewhere.

After getting into pajamas, you step out into the second-floor hallway, glancing around to see if anyone’s door is open. Jin’s is open - he’s still downstairs having a beer with Yoongi - but you’ve used his bed before. The only other one that’s ajar is the bunkroom.

Inside, Namjoon has his nose inside a book by a Japanese author you’ve vaguely heard of, and Hoseok folds a pile of laundry on his bed.

“Room for one?” you call out hopefully. The two of them have each chosen a separate bunk so they can see each other, but while Namjoon has a bottom bunk, Hoseok’s hair just about brushes the ceiling on the third and highest bed. The two of them glance up in unison, matching grins as they wave you inside.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Hoseok chimes out cheerfully.

“I was wondering if I could stay in a bed here tonight. I can’t room with Jungkook again.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm in recollection of the scene the three of you shared on Monday. “Well, we’ve got plenty of space. Pick a bed; any bed.”

It makes the most sense to choose the third stack of beds, on the far wall from the door. With only two beds instead of three, it’s easy enough to choose the top one, a perfect halfway point between Namjoon and Hoseok. “It’s not so bad in here,” you remark, tugging up the sheets so you can slip under.

“As far as punishments go, it does seem pretty tame,” Namjoon notes, adjusting a pair of thick reading glasses that balance precariously on his nose. “Though I do feel like it’s the equivalent of a naughty corner. Even if it’s comfortable, it’s the social factor that makes it undesirable.”

“It’s basically a sleepover for losers,” Hoseok surmises.

Namjoon pauses and nods. “Well said.”

You chuckle. “You two seem to be getting along well. Doing a lot of bonding in here, are we?”

“Not a whole lot else to do,” Hoseok points out. “We’ve been chatting away the boredom. Did you know Namjoon thought he could speak to crabs when he was a kid?”

Namjoon lets out a wounded noise, carefully marking his page with a bookmark before tossing the novel to the side. “I never said that! I said I thought they were trying to speak to me, okay?” The academic pokes his head out to look up at you. “Hobi-hyung is scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street!”

Instead of defending himself, Hoseok nods with an indignant pout. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am.”

You let out a peal of laughter. “Wow, you’ve only been in here three nights and you’re already sharing childhood trauma? Jin’s gonna be devastated he missed it.”

“Jin had the chance to come join me and he chose not to,” Hoseok declares. “As far as I’m concerned, Namjoon is the only man in this house I respect.”

Namjoon beams, eyes crinkling behind thick frames. “Thanks, hyung. I respect you, too.”

Hoseok’s chest puffs up in pride. “You better after all the things I’ve taught you.”

Namjoon’s blush is telling. You lean forward in interest, glancing back and forth between the two. “Wait; what did you teach him?”

“Well, we’re not gonna tell you,” the dom responds petulantly, turning his nose up, “it’s a surprise for your scene together.”

You pout, leaning back onto the pillow on your bed. “That’s no fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun when you get to experience it firsthand, trust me.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh at Hoseok’s teasing, slipping his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand beside the bunks. “Don’t hype it up too much, hyung, I’m not that good yet.”

“You’ll get there, young grasshopper.”

You frown at the uncertain look on Namjoon’s face. “I can go ask one of the others to room with them if you wanna, uh, practice some more.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No, it’s okay. This can be my rest day.”

Hoseok sighs sweetly, rubbing his eyes. “Actually, rest does sound pretty nice. We can pick it up tomorrow. Night, Joonie. Night, Y/n.”

You and Namjoon chime out a simultaneous reply as Hoseok climbs down the stairs to deposit his pile of folded laundry on the empty bed below, returns to the top bunk, and tucks himself in.

Namjoon seems equally relieved to be able to go to bed early, curling up with a pillow cuddled to his chest. “Sweet dreams,” his low timbre calls out.

You smile fondly at your two boys, snuggled up with peaceful faces as they drift away. “Sleep well,” you offer up, before getting comfortable and letting your own eyes slip closed.

#bts x reader #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #goldenclosetnetwork #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanidx

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alicanta77 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2: Don’t Look Back

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: angst, fluff, suspense(?)

Warnings: swearing, zombies, blood, violence, death, virus, anxiety, abusive family

Words: 11k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

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I got inspiration for Post Mortem from my friend @2-cute-4-school and her story called ‘Evanescent’. She is an amazing writer and all of her work is incredible so please check her out if you haven't already! I would really recommend the story Hiraeth by her too if you’re Haechan biased and like angst. I honestly cannot thank her enough for letting me use Evanescent as a starting point for this series xx

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The apocalypse wasn't the kind you would see in movies. There were no ruins that used to be buildings, no shattered glass of the windows that used to make up skyscrapers and no fallen blocks of wood to provide a small bit of shade from the now burning sun. While the virus broke out slowly, the apocalypse happened so quickly that all that happened to the world was that it emptied. Houses were empty, skyscrapers were standing, their windows only now used to reflect the sun, everything remained in tact. That’s how quickly the world gave up.

It had been a week since you had arrived at Mark’s. Since then you had each been given rooms and become accustomed to the sheer size of his house. You also found out that he really wasn't lying when he said that they had a good security system. The electrified walls around the house are enough to keep out a hoard of the undead, multiple cameras surrounded the premises and were connected to alarms around the house which means that if any did break through you would know about it immediately and, your favourite feature, was an escape hatch that took you a garage under the house, filled with fast cars and enough supplies to last a few months. His family really seemed to be prepared for everything, and, right now, that was just what you needed. But you knew that you couldn't stay here forever.

As brilliant as Mark’s house was, after 12 hours there, the entire group had sat together in the living room and unanimously decided that this would not be the place they would stay forever. While they had a large supply of food that would last a while, it would eventually run out and you would need to get more. The same applies for medicine and going to raid the stores seemed dangerous and the supplies you needed would probably be already taken. Renjun recommended finding a place with fields so that you could grow your own plants and even raise cattle. This would give you a fresh supply of meat and the plants could be used for food and medicine. However, the idea of where to find a protected field that you would need seemed to stump you all.

In the week you had been at Mark’s your ankle had also completely healed. You seemed to have no symptoms of HD, neither your veins or your eyes had changed colour and your personality had remained exactly the same. Everyone eventually came to the conclusion that, either the cut wasn't deep enough, or you couldn't get turned by scratch. You all prayed it was the latter.

You had noticed Chenle, Jisung and Mark being slightly anxious around you the past week, not that you could blame them. They had never properly met you before and everyone was watching nervously to see if you would turn. After you were fully healed, however, they all seemed to lighten up slightly and trust you a lot more. You were deep in thought about all of this when Haechan walked into your shared room.

‘Y/n?’ He asked.

‘Haechan!’ You laughed slightly. ‘God, you made me jump. What’s up?’

His face remained grim, any trace of his signature sunshine smile was long gone and he seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say.

‘What’s happened?’ You gently asked, walking up to him and guiding him to sit on your bed. He took a deep breath before speaking.

‘I want to go home.’ Your head shot up at his statement and you opened your mouth to say something, but he didn't let you. ‘Wait, just let me finish. I want to go home and get some things. I want to grab some clothes and possibly a photo and I want to see if I can find my sister. She wasn't infected with HD, meaning she is still human and I haven't had any contact with her and she's home alone with our Dad and I-’

You pulled Haechan into a small hug to calm him down. You could always tell when he was getting worked up over something because he would start to ramble on about the same point, repeating it in about four different ways. You began to hum the tune of ‘You are my sunshine’ to calm him down. It was a habit you had developed since he started hiding at yours from his father. You had always thought of him as your sunshine and revealed this to him when he arrived late one night, littered with new bruises. Your parents had quickly taken his younger sister into the bathroom, while you looked after Haechan, quietly telling him this when he whispered how he wasn't sure if he could take it anymore. It was in that moment that you both realised that nothing calmed Haechan down faster and more effectively than that song.

‘I think we should tell the rest of the guys.” You said while pulling out of the hug but still keeping a hold of his hand. ‘Some of them may want to see if their families are alive and have things to grab.’

He nodded and you both headed to go round everyone up. It didn't take as long as you had expected, due to the size of the house, but as large as the house was, it was easy to navigate. It was only three floors high, with the kitchen, living room, dining room and utility rooms on the ground floor, three of the bedrooms, two bathrooms and another living room on the first floor and one bedroom, bathroom and the security room on the top floor. Since you and Haechan were sharing the room on the top floor, you quickly checked the security room to see if you could find anyone, and luckily they were all in their room, so you quickly grabbed them and asked them to meet in the first floor living room.

Once everyone was gathered, it was time for Haechan to propose his idea.

---

‘What’s this meeting for?’ Mark asked, being the last one to walk in.

‘I’ve been thinking-’ Haechan began.

‘Oh that's never good.’ Renjun quickly interrupted, earning a glare from Haechan in return.

‘As I was saying, I’ve been thinking and, I really want to go home.’

Everyone immediately erupted into chaos about why this shouldn't happen, growing out any clarifications that Haechan was trying to make.

‘Wait, wait!’ Haechan raised his voice over the noise, silencing everyone. ‘Not forever. I’m not saying that I want to move back home I just need to visit it. I want to grab some clothes of mine and I want to see if I can find my sister. She wasn't infected with HD and if there’s a chance she is okay, I need to find her.’

This caused silence to fall over the room, confusion clearly sweeping through everyone's minds. You knew that both Jeno and Renjun knew how important Haechan’s sister was to him and you didn't doubt for a second that they would come with Haechan to get her back, but for the other four boys, you weren't so sure that they would be willing to take that risk. And you were right.

‘Is it going to be safe to go back to your house though?’ Jisung asked.

‘No it isn't.’ Chenle stated bluntly. ‘In fact it may be incredibly dangerous, there will be zombies there, it would be like us willingly walking into a trap.’

In the time you had spent with the boys you had learnt that Jisung and Chenle normally stuck to each other like glue, bouncing off each other’s energy well. Jisung was a lot more thoughtful about what he was going to say and when he was going to say it and seemed a bit more shy around new people, while Chenle would often tell you the truth even if you didn't ask for it. It was never meant in a malicious way and you could tell that the boy didn't have a mean bone in his body, he just found it easier to be honest, it was like honesty was his natural setting. Mark tried to keep everyone together, normally more logical than the younger two and would often take the time to think about all the possibilities before making any kind of decision. And finally, Jaemin, the person who you owed so much to, you had learnt absolutely loved affection. The way he would follow Jisung around to try and get a kiss often reminded you of Haechan. Jaemin was filled with a maturity that was way beyond his years and was often very good at coming up with solutions to problems. His wise nature yet loving personality made him an irreplaceable asset to the team.

‘Haechan, I don’t know what to say yet.’ Mark said, partially to himself. ‘On one hand, we can’t leave your sister and you needing things from your house makes sense, but on the other, it is really dangerous to leave right now. All of us would be risking our lives.’

Haechan didn't seem to know what to say. He had never thought that they would actually be against him trying to save his sister. Suddenly Jeno spoke up:

‘Well I’d be willing to risk my life. Haechan is a loyal friend and I have no doubt that he would do this for any of us if we asked, so I’m not letting him go alone.’

‘Nor am I.’ Renjun chimed in, standing up next to Haechan, as if in solidarity.

‘I’m going too.’ You nodded at Haechan. ‘You're not in this alone.’

Haechan nodded thankfully at you all before just looking at Jaemin for a second, as if pleading him to convince the others, but Jaemin just looked back with a confused look on his face, as if there was something he couldn't quite understand. Haechan then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him ad leaving you all behind.

An uncomfortable silence settled over you all as no one could seem to find a word to say. Then Mark finally spoke, breaking the tension.

‘Guys, I’m sorry but this is so risky, you barely got out of the school and that was only facing three zombies. Even then, y/n still got scratched. How can you expect us to willingly go into a badly infested neighbourhood to get a young girl we don’t know?’

Renjun looked at him in disbelief.

‘Because it’s his sister!’ He took a step closer to Mark very careful to make his point clear as day. ‘You don’t have to come with us, but we are going and we are going to come back with her because, god help me, he is not going to lose her and end up with his father as the only family he has left.’ After that he turned around and stormed out and back towards his shared room with Jeno. Jeno turned to you and you nodded before he quickly followed Renjun, hoping to calm him down. This left just you and the four boys, once again in an uncomfortable silence.

‘Oi.’ Chenle poked Jaemin in the side. ‘Why haven't you said anything?’

Jaemin looked up at you, and cocked his head slightly, his face still holding the slightly confused expression he had before.

‘There’s just something that I can’t get off my mind.’ He kept his eyes trained on you and uttered the sentence you hoped you would never have to hear, purely because of the questions that you knew came with it. ‘It’s about Haechan’s family.’

The other three boys turned to look at Jaemin in confusion, clearly not sharing what thought process was going through his mind. But Jaemin’s eyes never wavered from you, his unflinching stare making you fidget slightly. You didn't break eye contact however, instead asking:

‘What about it?’

‘You all knew. You all knew he would do anything to protect his sister. In fact, you knew that he would go as far as to walk to his house alone and search it from head to toe, when we all know the likelihood is that she isn't alive. I know that siblings are close, but no one else has expressed that desperation to see a family member alive. And then Renjun mentioned his father and how he didn't want him to be Haechan’s only relative and...’

He trailed off for a moment and you held your breath, praying that he would finish that sentence in the way you were expecting him to.

‘... and it made me remember his mother... and her accident.’

Your heart stopped, your eyes shut and, for a moment, the world stopped turning. A singular mention of that woman would bring Haechan to tears that took hours to stop, a night carved into a 8 year old’s memory that would scar for years to come. Even you had trouble thinking about her without getting choked up. Jaemin continued as the rest of the boys were watching in silence.

‘Y/n... I know it is not our place to pry, but there’s clearly something here that we don’t know about and- I don’t want to force you to tell us but, I think it might help us to understand a bit more.’

Mark, Chenle and Jisung all followed Jaemin’s eyes and turned to look at you. You hated to admit it, but you thought it was probably a good idea. So after a quick discussion in Renjun and Jeno’s shared room, where they both agreed that you should tell the others the truth about Haechan, you walked back into the living room. All the boys immediately turned their heads towards you as you opened the door.

‘They agree it’s probably best that you know.’ You told them as you made your way towards an armchair. Jaemin moved up on the sofa next to you that he and Jisung were sharing, allowing Chenle to sit down too, while Mark pulled up a chair to form a small circle.

‘Before I start, I need to tell you that Haechan doesn't know I’m telling you this. It’s a subject that even we can't bring up with him, so please don’t try to yourselves because it will only cause him pain and create divides in the group. None of that do we need or does he deserve. He suffered enough.’ You muttered the last part mostly to yourself, but loud enough that you knew the boys could hear it. The you took a deep breath, watching your hands in your lap, trying to keep yourself as calm as possible, before beginning.

‘Before I tell you about Haechan, you first need to know about another boy that we knew. He was called Donghyuck. He lived a street over from me when we were growing up, and we would see each other all the time so we easily became good friends. He fit seamlessly into the trio that was then just Renjun, Jeno and I, and soon we became a group of four. On the outside, he seemed to have a perfect family. Father, mother, son and daughter. Good jobs, nice house, shiny car, you couldn't find anything wrong with them. Until you looked past the front door. Behind that locked door every night was a sea of threats, drunken words and regretted actions, it was a living nightmare for Donghyuck. His father was an alcoholic. He couldn't go one day without some kind of drink and he was not a nice man at the best of times, let alone when drunk. But it only got worse. It got to the point where it was hard to tell which personality of his was worse, drunk or sober, and it even got to the point where it didn't matter. His mother tried as hard as she could to protect him and his sister from his father, but it was often hopeless. Donghyuck would watch as his mother took beating after beating from the man who swore to love and protect her for as long as he lived. Then, once he had knocked his wife unconscious, he would turn his attention to his children. Donghyuck had always taken after his mother. To anyone who knew both of them, it was as clear as day. he had the same morals, the same thought process, the same priorities and even the same laugh. So when he saw his mother doing everything to protect them, he would do anything to protect his little sister.’

You paused for a minute, looking up at the boys who were hanging on your every word. You knew it had been over ten years since the name Donghyuck was said in your presence, only his sister being able to call him that, so it wasn't surprising to you that the boys had no clue who you were talking about.

‘He would come in the next day, littered with bruises. He always claimed that he fell down the stairs. But hearing that every two weeks rings alarm bells, even in an eight year old’s head. Donghyuck was a terrible liar, it was something we also teased him about. So he knew that lying would get himself caught, and in turn get his father caught, and then break up the family that his mother would try so hard to protect. So he told the truth. He fell down the stairs. It just wasn’t for about a year before we learnt that his father was the reason he fell down the stairs, and that it was less of a fall and more of a throw.’

You paused again, swallowing the emotion that was crawling up your throat. You knew that you were no where near the emotional part of this story, and that was the fact that made you the most upset: the worst was still to come.

‘Jeno was the first to find out about Donghyuck at home. He told me and I told Renjun and before we knew it, Donghyuck had called us together and asked us not to say a word. We didn't really understand why, but he was our friend and he seemed desperate. So we kept quiet, and I wish we didn't.’

Your voice cracked slightly on the final word, giving the indication to the boys listening that something else happened. Chenle leaned forward, asking:

‘What happened? Did something happen to Donghyuck?’

You shook your head, tears beginning to grow in your eyes so you blinked them away. You couldn't afford to get emotional yet.

‘No, not to Donghyuck. Something happened to his mother.’

None of the boys said anything, all of the silently begging you to continue. You took a deep breath, steadying your voice before you continued.

‘Like I said earlier, Donghyuck’s father would always beat his mother unconscious before hurting him or his sister. But one night, she came to and woke up before his father had intended or realised. She woke up and saw him dragging Donghyuck by the scruff of his neck, while he screamed and kicked, begging for his sister to run. And when she did, out of the window and off to a safe house, his father screamed in rage and threw Donghyuck down the stairs. But he threw him hard and he barely touched the stairs before hitting the ground, leaving him there unmoving. All he could register was his mother screaming. She threw herself at her husband, fighting with everything she had in her to avenge and protect her son from further damage, but she was nothing compared to his physical strength, especially in her weakened state. Donghyuck watched as his father pushed his mother, forcing her to step backwards, but there was nothing for her to step onto. She went backwards down the stairs and banged her head on the corner of the bottom one. Donghyuck still couldn't move, in too much pain from his last fall. All he could do was watch while his mother bled and his father ran around staging the house to look like a robbery gone wrong. He then listened to his father ring the police, crying fake tears and asking for help. He watched as the paramedics took his mother and put her into a body bag, as they ripped away the one person who looked out for him, who protected him. In that moment, he changed. He vowed to never be unable to protect anyone again. He vowed to protect his sister, and to protect himself. And, finally, he changed his name. So that no one would call him the name that his father did the night he murdered his mother.’

‘What did he call himself?’ Jisung asked after a second of silence.

A new voice cut through the air, making you all turn around in your seats.

‘Haechan.’

Haechan stood in the doorway arms folded, as if he was trying to be tough and not care about what they thought of his story, but the fact that his eyes were glued to the floor, showed how terrified he was that these boys knew what he had been through. Finally he looked up at the boys sat around you and only when he did that did you all see the tear marks on his cheeks.

‘I called myself Haechan.’

Mark stood up, walked towards him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, forcing Haechan to look up at him.

‘We’re going to get your sister.’

---

You decided to leave the same day as it was still early morning and no one saw any point in wasting time. The longer you waited, the more likely Haechan’s sister was to be dead. Before leaving you had stopped in one of the utility rooms you hadn't been into yet. Mark opened the door and you were greeted with rows upon rows of weapons.

‘My family was keen on having all the means to stay safe.’ Mark explained as you walked into the room, a mixture of awe and fear clouding your mind. ‘This is my father’s room. I haven't been in here more than twice, but given the current situation, I thought these might come in useful. Can anyone here fire a gun?’

Chenle put his hand up, along with Jeno and yourself. When you were younger, Jeno’s parents had taken you two clay pigeon shooting and it had become something of a tradition between the two of you.

Mark nodded at you both.

‘Good. You three can grab these guns, the same one I have. If you have less experience, then grab a pistol. They have less bullets but they're easier to fire and the recoil won't injure you.’

Mark held out a larger gun for you and you grabbed it before switching on the safety and slinging it over your should using the strap. You also decided to grab a pistol when you saw that there were some left over.

‘Wow. Your dad had a lot of guns...’

Mark looked up at you from placing a knife in a holder on his arm.

‘Yeah... I always hated it. I guess I should be thankful now huh?’

He gave you a small smile, which you returned. You took a look at everyone, now that they were fully suited up. Jisung had one pistol, one longer knife and three grenades on him, Chenle had a long knife, one pistol and the larger gun that Mark had given him, Jeno had the same gun and two knives, Jaemin had two pistols and a grenade, Renjun was equipped with a pistol, two knives and a grenade, Mark had the same machine gun as you, a pistol and a knife, Haechan had two pistols, two knives and a grenade and you had the same larger gun as Mark did, one pistol and a knife. Jisung had also recommended for you all to put tape around your forearms as that was a place where zombies usually bite. While it felt very strange and restricted your movements slightly, you were glad the kid had watched so many movies that he came up with this idea.

Once you were all armed and ready, you headed out to the same cars that you drove in to get away from the school. The tanks were basically still full, so you didn't need to worry about running out of gas. You all got into the same cars as before and sat in the same seats. As Jeno and Mark began to drive off you couldn’t help but wonder if this was you subconsciously searching for any kind of stability and routine, now that your life had pretty much fallen apart in around one week.

When driving back to your street, you took the time to think about the conversation you had had with Haechan in the living room that morning. It was just after you had told the boys his story.

~flashback~

The rest of the boys had left the living room, some going to the bathrooms and some getting a quick bite to eat before you set off. You stood in front of Haechan, neither of you saying anything. You weren't really sure what to say, you had essentially just told his bigger secret to four almost strangers without his permission. You guessed the best thing to do would be to apologise.

‘I’m sorry.’ You lifted your eyes from the floor and looked directly at him. ‘It wasn't my place to tell them that at all and I should have made sure it was okay with you. I’m really sorry.’

When he still said nothing your feelings went out of control slightly, feeling as though you had massively betrayed his trust and he would never forgive you and then you would lose your best friend, the person you cared about more than anyone else you had ever met. With all these thoughts swirling around your head and your anxiety fuelling them to get more and more out of control, you couldn't help the tears that started to form in your eyes.

This made you frustrated with yourself. If either of you should be crying it should be Haechan, he just had to relive the day his mother died. Haechan was also crying, but the point was that you shouldn't be.

Haechan gently wiped away the tears that were gently falling down your cheeks. Then he proceeded to place a feather light kiss on your forehead before bringing you into a hug.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered ‘Renjun and Jeno came to get me as soon as they agreed with you, and I- I wanted to come in and stop you, that's why I was in the doorway, but when I heard you telling them what had happened I just listened. And I remembered my mum and all the good she did and how she always fought for the right things and then I heard you say how I take after her and-’

His words were caught in his throat as he choked on a sob. Haechan had always worn his heart on his sleeve and was never good at hiding his emotions. Talking about his mother was something that had always been impossible for him to do without breaking down. He couldn't even think of her without tearing up. But through the tears he continued, determined to say what was on his mind.

‘It reminded me of how much I need to fight to protect everyone. I know the likelihood is that my sister isn't alive, but I have to check. Mum always taught me how to be strong for others, and I’m going to do that, for her. I promised her I would protect those that I loved, those around me and I can't let her down, especially not now. So thank you, because hearing that story, as painful as it is, reminded me of my reason to fight.’

You kept silent, knowing that Haechan didn't need words right now but just silent reassurance that you were there and you loved him. So you pulled away from him slightly and looked him dead in the eyes before placing a kiss on his cheek. His lips curved into a small smile at your action, making you do it again. As his smile grew wider you soon found yourself peppering kissing across his entire face, forcing him to eventually let out the giggle that you loved so much. He pushed his forehead against yours and you breathed out a sigh of contentment. He pulled back for a second and you watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Did he want to kiss you? You did the same to him, and watched as he slowly leaned in, as if he was giving you time to pull away.

‘Yo, guys? Mark needs us downstairs... Oh sorry, didn't mean to interrupt but we need to get going soon.’ Chenle stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as you and Haechan stepped out of your embrace and nodded in thanks. With that uncomfortable note he disappeared down the corridor so fast that there was still a cartoon smoke outline of his body hanging in the air.

‘So we should go?’ Haechan asked after a second of silence.

‘Yeah.’ You replied, a new kind of fear and determination taking over your body. ‘Let’s go home.’

~flashback ends~

You were replaying that moment in your head the entire car ride to your house. Haechan was going to kiss you. Your best friend wanted to kiss you, and you wanted him to. You weren't sure what this meant for your relationship either. You didn't know if it would make things more complicated or if everything would somehow fall into place. Or what if-

‘Y/n!’ Renjun’s voice cut through your whirlwind of thoughts. You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the boy who had been watching you for the past ten minutes. ‘Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it. You're overthinking.’

‘I have anxiety. There’s no other kind of thinking available.’ You sassed back, making Jeno chuckle and Haechan smirk slightly. The boys all knew that, even though you could be very logical and factual about physical situations, when it comes to anything to do with emotions or other people’s opinions, you start to drive yourself crazy with all the different possible scenarios you create in your head. You were always glad that you had them to tell you when to calm down though. So you nodded gratefully at Renjun who smiled back.

In the past week you had also noticed the boys being less teasing with you. Saying they were being more affectionate isn't the right word but, for example, normally Renjun would have rolled his eyes and jokingly complained about how much you need him and how lost you would be without him, but today he just smiled. You didn't mind it, you knew you were being less teasing with them. For you, it’s because of the fear. When you don’t know which moment is going to be your last, you want to treasure those around you so much more.

Suddenly the car pulled to a stop and Jeno’s voice uttered a sentence you had heard a million times before, but it had never had this effect on you.

‘We’re here.’

---

Mark had decided to stop the cars about a minute walk from your street, in a local abandoned park, one you actually used to come to all the time. It made sense, if there were zombies on the road you didn't want to draw masses of attention to yourself by driving into them in two large, black range rovers. You climbed out of the car, pulled then gun off your back and into your hands and looked around you.

Everyone looked nervous, you couldn't blame them. You were nervous too, but you also had a very strong reason for doing this. You began to walk, in silence, and luckily all you, Renjun, Haechan and Jeno lived close to each other. It made it much easier to get to all of your houses. You also learnt that Chenle lived a road over, so they thought they would go there to, and possibly grab some more weapons. Chenle didn't spend a lot of time talking about his family, he simply stated that both his parents were infected so they would be zombies now, and left it at that. It was clear he didn't want any further questions on it.

The streets were empty. You had thought that they would be full of zombies and you would have to fight your way through every step. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for. Two doors away from Haechan’s house you suddenly heard a strange groaning. It was a noise you had only heard once before and it sent a chill right down your spine.

You all stopped immediately where you were and turned around very slowly. You could see a zombie down the other end of the street, and it didn't look like it had seen you yet. Taking this into consideration, Mark gestured for you to move forwards as quickly and quietly as you could. You had no idea how many more there were wandering around and would be alerted of your presence, were you to fire a gun.

With every step you took, it felt like Haechan’s house was getting further away, your heart pounding so hard you were sure that people could hear it. After what felt like forever, you had made it and Haechan quickly unlocked the door and you got inside.

You spared another look out of the window and saw more and more zombies starting to roam the streets, all of them being walking ghosts of their former selves.

The world became a walking ghost town.

You all tiptoed through the house, Haechan whispering out his sister’s name as loud as he dared. You spilt up slightly, with you and Mark following Haechan to his sister’s room and the others separating into two groups and focusing on seeing what they could get from him house.

As you reached the door to Haechan’s sister’s room, he reached up to push it open when Mark grabbed his hand.

‘Wait!’ He had a look of pure fear across his face.

‘What?’ Haechan stared him down, clearly not pleased that he was stopping him when he was this close to finding out.

‘Just, listen for a minute, I think I heard something.’

And Mark was right, he had heard something. He had heard the noise that none of you ever wanted to hear again. The low groan of a zombie.

That was it for Haechan, he burst open the door and, when he saw the sight in his little sister’s room, nearly crumbled on the spot.

His sister was lying on the floor crying in pain, while his zombified father was biting into her arm.

You and Mark seemed frozen at the sight in front of you. But Haechan didn't even stop to pull out his gun when he threw himself at his father. He pulled the older man off his younger sister and rolled on top of him, grabbing his knife and plunging it straight into his head.

You quickly ran to the little girl on the floor, pulling her head into you lap and stroking her hair as she cried in pain.

Mark ran over to Haechan, who had completely lost control at this point and was stabbing his father over and over again, wherever he could reach. Mark grabbed him by the arms and pulled him off him.

‘Haechan! Haechan, he’s dead. You did it, he’s dead.’ He shouted this right in his ear, somehow managing to shock Haechan back into the current situation.

Haechan’s eyes shot to his sister, currently lying on your legs and he ran towards her.

‘No...’ He whispered as the tears began to fall down his face. ‘Please, I can’t be too late, not again.’

He pulled the dying girl into his arms entirely, not caring about the blood that was getting on his clothes from her various wounds. He cradled the girl he had cared for his entire life, crying into her hair. Then she suddenly spoke. A quiet, yet determined voice that cut through the air like a knife.

‘Donghyuck?’ Her eyes opened slightly and, when she saw her brother in front of her, she smiled.

‘Hi sweetheart, I’m here.’ Haechan smiled back, his full of tears while hers was a smile of pure joy.

‘Good... now I don’t mind dying.’

Haechan’s smile disappeared at that.

‘No, no. You’re not going to die, we’re gonna take you back and patch you up. Don’t be stupid, you’re not going to die.’

‘Hyuckie, I don’t mind. You’re here now that’s all that matters. I knew you would come, you've always been my hero.’

‘But I came too late. I couldn't save you.’ At this point Haechan’s tears were overflowing, as were yours and even Mark’s.

‘But you already have. Every time you took hit from dad or told me to run to y/n’s, you saved me.’

‘Please... I can’t lose you too.’ He hugged her close again at that point, as the rest of the boys found their way to her room, following the noises from the previous attack. Upon seeing the scene in front of them, Jeno fell to his knees and Renjun leant down to comfort him, as the tears fell down both of their cheeks.

‘Don’t worry Hyuckie, I’ll be with Mum. I’m gonna get to see Mum again.’ Again, she looked Haechan directly in the eyes and smiled. There was no sadness in the smile, only pure hope and joy at the thought of seeing her long lost mother. ‘You can do this Hyuckie, you can be stronger than you think. You’re gonna be okay without me.’

‘But you were my drive, how can I keep going now?’

“You find something else. Someone else you care about like you’ve never cared before. Besides, I’m still going to be with you, and so is Mum. Hyuck, she’s so proud of you, you know?’

Haechan just looked at her as he continued to cry and she grimaced slightly in pain, the black veins spreading across her chest. It was clear she didn't have much time left.

‘Hyuck, can you promise me two things?’

‘Of course, anything.’

‘One, please make sure I see Mum. I don’t want to turn into him.’ Her eyes flickered towards their dead father a few meters away and, even though Haechan visibly flinched at his sister’s request to kill her, he still nodded.

‘And two?’ He asked, his voice at a whisper at this point.

‘Be Donghyuck again. Donghyuck was my hero, not Haechan, Donghyuck didn't run away from anything, he fought to protect me. Donghyuck is who came back for me today, please be him again, be my brother.’

Haechan seemed to be stunned into silence, but managed to nod.

‘Thank you.’ She whispered as her voice trailed off and she shut her eyes.

Haechan just sat there holding her and then pulled out his gun. No one said a word, all of you in complete silence, watching as he placed one final kiss on his sister’s head before he replaced his lips with the barrel of his gun, and pulled the trigger. She didn't move, having already been completely limp in his arms before.

Haechan dropped the gun and cried. He cried like you had never seen him cry before. His entire body moved with his sobs as he repeated the same sentence, over and over again, under his breath whilst rocking her back and forwards.

‘She’s with mum now.’

None of you moved, no one knowing what to say or do. You had all known that the likelihood of Haechan’s sister being alive was slim but none of you would have ever expected to be greeted with the sight you were. Not much time had passed before Renjun gently placed a hand on Haechan’s shoulder and spoke in a soft tone.

‘I’m really sorry but we have to go, we have four other houses to get to and the zombies outside must have heard the gunshot.’

Haechan nodded, understanding the situation but he still found it hard to let go of her. He stood up and carried his dead sister over to her bed in the corner of the room. He placed her under the covers, kissed her forehead and whispered a goodbye, as if he was tucking her in for the night. Then he turned around.

‘Haechan-’ Jeno started, but he was cut off.

‘Donghyuck.’ Haechan corrected him. Jeno didn't say anything, just let his friend finish. ‘She wanted me to be Donghyuck, so that’s who I’m going to be. Call me Donghyuck.’

Jeno smiled slightly at that. ‘Let’s go, Donghyuck.’

With that you all stood up and walked out of the room, Donghyuck closing the door behind him. On your way out of his house you stopped briefly at Donghyuck’s bedroom and he grabbed a few different clothes and also the three pictures he always kept in his wallet. One was of Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck and yourself, one was of him, his mother and his sister, and one was of just you and Donghyuck.

After grabbing these you all met at the front door and tried to figure out how you were going to split up for the next houses. Mark pointed out that it may be safer to travel in smaller groups of two or three so that you draw less attention to yourself and keep quieter in the houses. You still had four houses to go to, yours, Renjun’s, Jeno’s and Chenle’s.

‘Not mine.’ Jeno spoke suddenly, causing you all to turn and look at him in confusion.

‘Why not?’ Jisung asked.

‘Because all my family were infected with HD. I know that none of them are alive and I really don't want to see them like that if I can avoid it.’ Jeno avoided eye contact with all of you, clearly more upset about the previous events and this revelation than he was letting on.

Mark nodded and decided to split people up into groups.

“Right, ok then. Renjun, you take Jeno and Jisung to your house, I’ll go with Chenle and Haech- Donghyuck to Chenle’s house and y/n, you take Jaemin to yours. How does that sound?’

You all nodded in agreement, your house was closest so it made the most sense that you only had one person come with you. Less travel meant less danger. You spared a look at Donghyuck and saw him watching you with his eyebrows furrowed, a worried expression on his face. Before you all headed out again, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his kitchen.

‘Be careful, please? I don’t like that you only have one person with you for backup.’

‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Jaemin has saved my ass multiple times already and besides, I live closest to you, what's the worst that can happen?’

Donghyuck simply looked at you in disbelief.

‘Sorry...’ You mumbled remembering what he had just had to watch. ‘I guess the worst is pretty bad huh?’ Donghyuck cast his eyes to the floor, making you place a finger under his chin and tilt his head up so that he could look at you. ‘I’ll be careful, I promise.’ You hesitated for a second before leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. With that you turned away and walked back towards Jaemin.

The plan was to meet back at the cars in ten minutes exactly. You and Jaemin exited Donghyuck’s house and headed to yours, which was further down the same street. You walked as quickly as you could and, due to the zombies roaming the street in front of your house, you used the back door to enter. Once you were inside Jaemin quickly grabbed your wrist and spun you around, needing to ask you a question.

‘Wait! This may sound harsh but I need to ask, do you want to look for your parents, or do you want to just grab your stuff and go.’

You thought for a second before replying.

‘Just grab my things and go.’ Your voice shook slightly as you continued. ‘My mum was infected so she won't be alive and, let’s face it, the likelihood is that my dad won’t either. I’d rather not get distracted by false hope.’

Jaemin nodded, his grip on your wrist sliding down so that he squeezed your hand comfortingly before letting go. You quickly explained to him that your bedroom was the first door on the left once you were up the stairs, then you began to walk. You had never thought that walking through the house you grew up in would ever be so terrifying, but every little noise or movement made you jump and swirl you gun around towards it. Eventually you and Jaemin moved side by side, focusing on keeping each other safe no matter what.

You reached the stairs and began to climb them, you speed growing slightly. You weren't sure if zombies could climb stairs, you definitely couldn't picture it but you didn't want to take any risks. Once you reached the top, you turned into your room without wasting a second.

Luckily the house seemed to be completely empty, letting you grab some clothes and shove them into a backpack, while instructing Jaemin to grab somethings from the bathroom. Like Donghyuck, you also had some photos you wanted to take with you, one of your family, one of your group of four, and again, one of just you and Donghyuck. At a final glance you also grabbed your polaroid camera and film so that you could take some photos of your current group. You weren't sure why, you just wanted them. Jaemin arrived back with various things and together you shoved them in your backpacks, but you were both stopped when you heard that guttural groan that was becoming all too familiar.

You shared a frightened glance before listening to it again. Both of you agreed it seemed to come from the room next to yours. You stood up silently and grabbed your guns, switching off the safety as you moved out of your bedroom. You and Jaemin proceeded silently down the stairs where you were greeted with a zombie.

It was your father.

For a few seconds your dad’s zombified body just stared at you, his dull, grey, lifeless eyes boring into your own. Then he moved. He moved a speed which you had never seen before, letting out an inhuman screech while he did so. He landed on you and started biting anywhere he would reach. You pushed against him, pleading with you father to get off and let you go.

Then a bang rang out, stopping his movements. You felt something cold on your face and you dad fell off you to reveal Jaemin stood behind him with his pistol up, the tip still smoking. You brought a shaky hand up to your face and wiped your fingers against you forehead. When you brought them back down, you saw blood.

Your dad’s blood.

You choked on a sob, one that was so desperate to leave you that it almost couldn't. Then you broke down. Jaemin immediately found his way beside you and pulled you into his arms. You could feel him shaking from the fear of the past few moments, while he whispered:

‘I thought I was going to lose you.’

You suddenly felt something wet on you hair and realised that Jaemin was crying too. When you came to this realisation, you turned your body so that you could hug him back, knowing that he would need some comfort as well. This wasn't just you breaking down over your father, it was everything that the past week had thrown upon you. You had lost your entire life, your family, your home, the parents of your close friends who were like a second family. All you had left was your group of eight.

You weren't there for long, knowing that you both had to get back to the cars before your ten minutes were up. You stood up and stretched to a hand to Jaemin who took it gratefully. You kept holding him before you both headed out of the back door and towards the cars.

When you approached them, you saw that the other 6 boys were already there, so you and Jaemin jogged to catch up. Chenle noticed you both first, nudging Donghyuck who was nervously biting his nails. Donghyuck looked up and immediately moved towards you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

‘Oh thank god.’ He whispered, before pulling away and continuing in a normal voice. ‘We heard gun shots and-’ He noticed the blood on your face. ‘Are you okay?’

You nodded. ‘It’s not mine. And you were right Jisung.’ You lifted up your tape covered arm to show him the small dents in it. ‘Tape saved my life.’

Jeno walked forward, using his sleeve to pat and wipe what he could off. ‘Is it a zombie’s?’

You nodded, ‘My dad’s.’

A silence fell over the group as Renjun stepped forward to hug you. He had known your dad for as long as you could remember and you knew he was like a second father to him.

“I’m okay.’ You whispered. ‘Can we please leave here though?’

Renjun nodded as he pulled away. ‘Let’s go.’

With that you all piled into the cars and drove away from the street that once was home to you, but is now only home to the horrible memories created today.

---

It had been 18 hours since you had all gone back home. You had immediately taken a shower and washed off the blood and dirt from your body. In fact, everyone had had showers that night and gone to bed pretty quickly.

Donghyuck was still heartbroken about his sister. You heard him crying in his bed that night and you wasted no time in crawling into it with him. You wrapped him up in your arms and began to gently sing you are my sunshine. You had just made it past the first chorus before his tears had subsided and he thanked you. He told you that he wasn't going to cry about it much more than he already had. He didn't want it to be something that kept him back, no, instead it was fuel to the fire that was driving him forward. He had also finally avenged the death of his mother, allowing him to let her rest in peace and allowing himself to move on.

You were proud of him.

He also cried for your parents. The people who took his sister and him in every time they ran away to your house, which was very often. They respected his boundaries when asking questions about the injuries and often made excuses to invite them over for dinner without his father to give them time out of the house. He confessed that he felt he owed them so many thank yous that he will never be able to say. You reassured him that they knew how grateful he was and that they had loved him like he was their own. They had once told you that Donghyuck was like the son they had never had.

So you lay in bed together that night, humming comforting songs and mourning the losses of your families together.

By the next morning, you all had another meeting. All eight of you sat in the living room on the ground floor, the silence sitting heavily on all of your shoulders.

Mark, who, as the oldest, had become the sort of leader of your group, spoke first.

‘I know yesterday was tough on everyone, and that's why I think it’s best that we leave here as soon as possible.’

The prompted everyone to look up at him in surprise, but, before anyone could interrupt or ask questions, he continued.

‘We had already decided that we couldn't stay here forever and the longer we do, the more bad memories we are making of this place. I think we should leave while we can still remember this place as it used to be. When it was still our home.’

What Mark said actually made a lot of sense to you. When you arrived at the abandoned park, you thought of the times you, Renjun, Jeno and Haechan would spend on the swings. And the time Jeno had help you after you fell off the monkey bars, how the 7 year old boy had insisted on carrying you back to your house and stayed with you while you mum patched you up. You remembered how he had insisted on teaching you the trick of climbing above them instead. You really didn’t want that memory to be replace with a different one. So you voiced your agreement.

‘I think that's a good idea. But we need to actually figure out where we are going to go and how we are going to get there.’

‘I think we need some rules.’ Jaemin spoke up. ‘Things like, never go anywhere alone, and stuff like that.’

Mark nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. We’ll create those after we decide where to go.’

‘Is no one else thinking what I’m thinking? About the zombies?’ CHenle questioned, looking around at all of you.

‘What are you thinking?’ Jisung asked, all of you clearly having no clue what he was on about.

‘That what if it isn't just people who are currently infected. Zombies are the living dead right? So what if the disease mutates and those who are already dead, and have been for years, start living again?’ His question added a new level of danger to an already life threatening situation.

‘The second people start rising we’re really screwed. The dead outnumber the living one hundred to one.’ Renjun stated.

‘Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. No need to freak out over something that hasn't happened yet.’

Jaemin’s words made Jeno nod slightly, you only noticing because he was beside you. You nudged him gently with your arm and he turned his head to look at you.

‘Hey, you okay? You’re quieter than normal.’

‘Yeah I’m fine.’ He turned away from you and faced the rest of the group. ‘What about an army base?’

‘An army base?’ Jisung questioned.

‘Yeah. It seems like the place we’ve been talking about. I did a summer training course at one last year and they've got loads of fields that they used for training which we can use those for growing plants and raising cattle, they also have lockers filled with clothes we could wear and there will be left over weapons too. Not to mention that if we could get the security system back up and running, it would probably be the safest place on earth. Of course there will be some zombies there but I'm sure we could take them, I mean, what's the alternative?’ Jeno explained.

It seemed like the perfect solution, almost too good to be true. You knew it was likely to be very infected but Jeno’s question kept ringing around in your head: what’s the alternative?

‘Anyone got any objections to that?’ Mark asked the rest of you, to which you all shook your heads. ‘Great.’

After arguing for the next half and hour or so, you all came up with the 3 rules you agreed to live by from now on:

1: Never go anywhere alone

2: If you hear anything or see anything odd, find the rest of the group immediately

3: When running, no matter what, don’t look back

You had just finished deciding on these rules when a loud crash stopped your conversation.

‘What the hell was that?’ Jaemin stood up, while Mark ran to the front door. He was only gone for a few seconds before he shot back inside.

‘Get up! We have to go!’ He shouted, grabbing Jisung and pulling him up.

Jeno grabbed Chenle while asking ‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Zombies. They’ve got past the gate, I don’t know how it wasn't electrified. But-’

‘What about the cameras, the alarms?’ Renjun interrupted.

‘They rebooted themselves five minutes ago and aren't back online yet. They have scheduled update system that I don’t know how to override.’ Mark explained and he stood by the door of the living room. ‘The zombies outside are about to make it inside the house, we need to get to the escape hatch as fast as we can. Jeno what’s the address of the army base?’

Jeno shouted back some numbers and an area code that you didn't understand, focusing on the sound of groaning that was radiating through Mark’s house.

‘Wait! No I can’t leave, I need to get the photos. Also we need our weapons, we won’t last five minutes without them.’ Donghyuck reasoned, desperation creeping into his voice.

‘There’s cameras there, we can watch and wait for them to leave, then we’ll grab our things and go.’ Mark reassured him. ‘Right the coast is clear, give me five seconds then run straight for the hatch, and remember, don’t look back.’

You all nodded and repeated ‘don’t look back’, knowing that you would run faster. This wasn't about not getting seen, it was about getting there alive.

Mark opened the door and ran first, quickly punching in the code and then the rest of you sprinted. You staggered how you ran to prevent you all crowding the entrance, but when it was your turn, you ran like you never had before. You didn’t look back, but focused only on the gap in the floor with Chenle’s outstretched hand waiting for you. You grabbed it and quickly jumped into the room, ignoring the steps there and instead favouring speed. It wasn’t long before Renjun arrived and then Jaemin, the door closing behind him. All of you breathed a sigh of relief as Mark quickly locked the door before turning on the lights and starting up the cameras. However, Jaemin just stared at the door above him.

Jisung noticed this first. ‘What’s wrong?’ His voice was shaking, not that you could blame him.

‘I- I didn't shut the door behind me.’ Jaemin stuttered, panic lacing his voice. ‘I wasn’t last so I didn't shut it.’

You felt your blood run cold as you looked around your safe room and noticed one person missing.

‘Where’s Jeno?’

The cameras suddenly blinked to life and you saw the house in front of you.

Mark lifted a shaky finger to the screen that showed Jeno and Renjun’s room.

‘There.’

‘No...’ You heard Renjun whisper and he suddenly threw himself against the door that was separating you from the zombies crawling your home. Jaemin grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him back.

Donghyuck immediately made his way over to where Mark was, pressing the button labelled speaker, allowing him to say something through the speakers around the house. Mark quickly flipped the audio switch so that you could hear what Jeno’s reply was.

‘Lee Jeno! What are you doing? Get back here!’ You could hear the strain in his voice.

Jeno sat down on his bed and lowered his head. ‘I’m sorry Donghyuck. I can’t.’

Donghyuck couldn't understand. ‘What do you mean you can't? Yes you can, we’re going to unlock the door and you need to get in here where it’s safe.’

‘That’s just it!’ Jeno shouted. ‘It’s not safe.’

A sob escaped you as you clamped a hand over your mouth while Jeno continued, the rest of you shocked into silence.

‘I’m sorry, but the only way you are getting out of here is if these zombies are killed. Donghyuck was right, you can't leave without your things and you can't leave that room until these things are gone so...’ He paused his sentence while he hoisted his gun onto his shoulder. ‘I’ll get rid of them.’

You walked up to where Donghyuck was, holding down the button yourself.

‘Jeno please... Please don’t do this, come with us, we’ll be safe together.’

Renjun stood next to you, taking his turn to speak.

‘Jeno, please. We can’t lose you.’

Jeno stopped where he was. ‘And I can't lose any of you. So please, let me do this. I’m strong, I’ll be fine.’ His halfhearted attempt at a joke fell flat when the cameras picked up the eleven zombies that were moving quickly through the house. ‘I’ll be fine.’ He repeated, much quieter this time, thinking you couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

You watched hopelessly as Jeno left the room with his gun at the ready and stalked around the house looking for a zombie. By this point, Mark had taken over the speaker button and was telling him where about in the house each zombie was. Your heart was in your mouth while you watched one of your best friends face this alone.

Jeno had taken out six zombies so far, but the last five were all in the same room. And they seemed to move fast. It seemed that zombies all moved at different speeds, and Jeno had somehow left the five fastest to face all at once.

‘Jeno, you need to wait for us. There is a clear path from where we are now to the stairs, we can grab our guns and help you.’ Mark quickly said, trying to stop Jeno from taking them on all at once.

Jeno looked out of the window and shook his head. ‘There’s no time. More are coming and bullets aren't gonna kill them fast enough.’

Jaemin rushed forward and grabbed the speaker from Mark.

‘Jeno, don’t be stupid we are gonna help you. Now wait there!’

‘Okay, okay. But be quick.’ Jeno held up his hands in surrender.

Mark unlocked the door and the rest of you got ready to run back for the stairs. Jeno was behind the door to the kitchen which was on the opposite side to the stairs, meaning you would be able to attack that zombies from both sides. Mark was getting ready to push open the door when Jeno’s voice made you all stop.

“Hey, I love you guys. Never forget that. Thanks for putting up with me for ten years.’

None of you replied, not understanding why it sounded like he was saying goodbye when you were escaping in less than five minutes.

Mark pushed open the door and you all took off. Splitting up once you reached the first floor, you and Donghyuck carried on again up to your shared room. You reached it and grabbed the weapons and backpack from where they were lying on the floor.

When you had both got everything, you nodded at each other and prepared to head back downstairs. You spared a look out of the window and realised that Jeno was right. You didn't have a lot of time. There were zombies crawling the streets and many of them were headed for Mark’s house.

You and Donghyuck had just made it down the stairs to the first floor when a bang resonated through the house, so powerful that it shook the floor where you were standing.

Once it died away, there was pure silence. Even the zombies outside had stopped moaning.

‘What the hell was that?’ Donghyuck asked, looking at you with wide eyes.

The rest of the boys shot out of their room, Mark saying. ‘A grenade. That was a grenade.’

Your heart stopped as you all came to the same horrifying realisation.

Jeno.

---

The next few minutes were a blur. You all shot downstairs to find him, only to be greeted with the remains of the explosion. You couldn't find any sign of Jeno. The only thing Renjun found was the silver identity tab necklace that Jeno had worn since his training camp at the army the previous summer.

Finding that had confirmed your worst suspicions.

Jeno had blown himself up to save the rest of you.

Donghyuck froze, Renjun screamed and you collapsed. All three of you portraying grief in different ways. Donghyuck couldn't move at all. Jaemin actually had to slap him across the face and scream that they needed to go. The blast had attracted every zombie that was roaming the streets. Renjun just yelled. He cursed out everything that had happened. He screamed at the disease and at Jeno for being too brave and too loyal. He cursed his friend for just not letting himself be selfish for once and let them help. Mark and Jisung grabbed him by an arm each and pulled him towards the escape tunnel. You just fell to your knees. The boy who had protected you since the day you met him was dead. The boy who taught you tricks on a skateboard and how to do a cart wheel was dead. The boy who was so scared that you might fall off the monkey bars again that he taught you how to climb across them was dead. And you didn't even tell him goodbye.

Jaemin ran towards you, picking you up and carrying you towards the exit. All the while apologising but saying that you had to go. You vaguely recognised the cars you would be travelling in, different ones this time. Jaemin put you in the passenger seat and you just about registers Chenle and Donghyuck in the backseat through your tears. You could see Chenle crying. You knew that he had looked up to Jeno like the older brother he never had. You curled up into a ball and just sobbed.

And it was like that that you started the next step of your journey. With one less person than when you started.

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terreisa · 4 years

Text

Love Down the Line: Epilogue

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, AO3

~*CS*~

Los Angeles, Three Years Later

“You know, the last time I was here they only gave me those itty bitty bottles of water.”

Killian laughed to himself but kept his eyes trained to his phone. He knew if he looked up the love of his life would be scowling at the unnecessarily large bottles of expensive water lined up along the counter of the green room they were waiting in. Emma Swan was prone to many wonderful things but graciously giving up on a grudge was not one of them.

“The last time you were here you hadn’t won five Grammys in one fell swoop. When I was doing the first interviews with Realm of Jewels we were lucky to get cups of tap water. We thought a slice of lemon was the height of luxury.”

“Yeah, well that was what? Three hundred years ago?” She teased, moving across the room to flop down beside him on the couch with a huff, “They should at least have a water cooler or something. Reusable bottles are the way of the future.”

“First you complain about the water they’re providing and now you’re complaining about the one their not? Can they do nothing to please you?”

He looked over at her with a raised brow and she gave him a smirk.

“They fired Walsh so that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Thank bloody fuck,” he growled, turning back to his phone with a scowl.

Emma had eventually told him the full extent of what had happened the day of her interview with Walsh Hoakley. Not only had the wanker reported gossip as though it were truth, which caused the brief falling out between him and Emma that had made them both miserable, but the berk had hit on her not ten minutes after. When she finally had told him, only a few days after they had reconciled, it had taken an hour for him to calm down and at least a week for her to convince him not to fight her battles for her. The news of Hoakley’s firing less than a year later had been celebrated with a sparkling cider toast.

“So-” Emma peered over his shoulder and he felt some of his tension melt away, “What’s got you paying more attention to your phone than the expensive goodies they’re trying to get on our good side with?”

With a snort he tilted his phone towards her, “Just going over the contract one last time.”

“We have a fancy lawyer for that don’t we?” She asked crossing her arms as she sat back, “And Ruby wouldn’t try to scam you. I mean, look what’s happened since she decided to become my manager instead of staying in my backing band.”

“Well, aside from those five Grammys I mentioned-”

“What?!” Emma’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped open in clearly feigned shock, “I won five Grammys? I had no idea!”

“Hush, love, you deserved them and I’m honored to brag on your behalf,” he chided though he gave her a wink, “Although, I don’t rightly think we can give Ruby the credit for that.”

She scoffed and burrowed further into the couch, “If she hadn’t forced me to let you audition then we wouldn’t have met. Then we wouldn’t have had our grand romance that in turn inspired In the Middlemist and I wouldn’t have won those Grammys.”

“I believe that we would have met eventually, love. If not through our careers then we would have certainly been invited to Ruby’s wedding where I would have been immediately smitten with the blonde in the crimson bridesmaid dress,” he said lowly, pleased to see her cheeks flush.

“And I probably would have freaked out even more meeting you for the first time there than at the studio. You know how much I like seeing you in a suit-” she said huskily, leaning up to press a soft kiss under his jaw. Then she sat back and smiled wide, “Even then Ruby would still be the reason we met. That’s why I dedicated it to her and not you.”

“Is that why? I thought it was because you were still upset with me over the tiny misunderstanding over your choice in vehicle.”

He gave her a knowing look and she glared right back at him. When he raised his brow in challenge she rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine, that was part of it,” she conceded, “But I did mention you in every acceptance speech.”

“Which was wonderful aside from the camera they kept shoving in my face to capture my every proud tear in HD,” he grumbled, remembering the repeated messages from Will that were just the GIF of him crying after Emma had said she loved him onstage holding her third award of the night. He blew out a breath, “As I was saying: aside from all that I will admit that your career has flourished under Ruby’s care. She has become quite the adversary of Regina, stealing her best clients away.”

“Regina’s over it now,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Ever since you reintroduced her to Robin in a non-business setting and then moved to that corner office things have been great.”

Just as he was about to make a somewhat lewd comment as to exactly why both those things would put Regina in a good mood there was a knock on the door. It was opened a moment later by the intern that had initially led them there.

“They’re ready for you, if you’d like to follow me.”

He let Emma proceed him as he stowed his phone in his pocket. She was right, of course, Ruby wouldn’t dream of sneaking in last minute changes to the contract making her his new manager. If anything she would have been fine with a verbal agreement and the promise of making her the godmother of whatever child he and Emma might have. Unfortunately all of their fancy, and expensive, lawyers required things in writing and in triplicate.

The intern led them to a broadcasting studio that looked like every other one he’d ever been interviewed in. One glaring difference, however, was the radio host who squealed when she saw them and practically skipped towards them with open arms.

“Finally, you guys! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

Emma laughed and accepted the hug easily, “Us too, Tink. Killian’s had it marked in all of our calendars the second Ruby booked it.”

Tink pulled back from Emma and gave him a wide smile, “I’d heard she finally got you to make it official. There’s no stopping her now.”

“As though there was a chance before,” he chuckled. “Lovely to see you again, TInk.”

“If you guys lived here I’d see you more,” she chided gently before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, “Everyone’s still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, Will wouldn’t let us hear the end of it if we didn’t,” he scoffed, giving her a light squeeze before letting go.

“Great! I still can’t believe he ditched Emma to be in your band,” She said with a laugh, grinning broadly at Emma’s frown. Something over his shoulder caught her eye and she nodded before focusing back on them, “Alright, my producer’s about to throw a fit if we waste any more time. Go ahead and get settled while I do my thing.”

As he and Emma moved to the seats awaiting them Tink bounced over to her chair and donned her headphones. With a bit of awe and intimidation he watched Tink easily slip into performance mode, softening her accent and dialing up her enthusiasm as she introduced herself and the start of her broadcast block. She hadn’t been a DJ for long but he could clearly see she had found her calling. When she teased their interview she gave them an overexaggerated wink that had him stifling a laugh.

After two songs and a small promo of Enchanted’s other stations Tink gave them a thumbs up as her producer let them know that their mics were live.

“That was the latest from The Killers and I don’t know about you but I’m more than ready for their new album to be released. I’m Tink and this is Rock Alt, home to all the alternative rock hits here on Enchanted XM. Today is a very exciting day because in the studio with me, right this very moment, are two people that you should be very familiar with: five time Grammy winner and indie darling Emma Swan and two time Grammy winner and alt rock god Killian Jones. Once upon a time I toured with Emma as part of her backing band and on one of those more memorable tours Killian decided to join us. Welcome, welcome!”

“I can truthfully say we’re excited to be here,” Emma chimed in brightly, her grin wide and happy.

“Yes, thanks for having us, love,” Killian said warmly. “Though I feel it’s only right to mention that those two Grammys were won with Realm of Jewels.”

“Aw, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be joined by plenty of others, especially with this new album-” Tink waggled her eyebrows and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to go easy on them just because she was their friend. “There’s no question that you two are more than just friendly collaborators, with a couple of writing credits on each other’s albums and a duet on Killian’s acoustic cover album of Realm of Jewels’ greatest hits. We’ve also seen the red carpet photos and Instagram glimpses of your romance.”

He looked over at Emma and received an eye roll in return. When they’d first truly started dating they’d kept it hidden from anyone that wasn’t close friends or family. They had both felt that they wanted to start their relationship without the hounding from the press and scrutiny from the gossip mongers. It wasn’t until nearly a year and a half later, when Emma had clearly been his date to American Music Awards, that they’d gone public. Even then they had both agreed that they’d keep their personal lives as private as possible and continued to do so. Including the fact that they’d been married for two years.

“But now you’ve released a surprise album as a duo,” Tink continued, “going by the name Charles & Leia, which also happens to be the title of the album. It’s amazing by the way and if any of you out there haven’t listened to it yet I suggest you do so, but only after this interview is over, of course. So, how did this come about and why Charles & Leia?”

Emma gave him a shrug and a nod and he leaned closer to his mic, “As you mentioned earlier we’ve been playing together for some time now. After that tour I was a part of we were both starting on our next albums and would often work through arrangements or fine tune lyrics, using the other as a sounding board. This has, as evidenced, continued through the years until one day we thought we might try our hands at creating a whole album together.”

“We didn’t want it to be an album of my songs featuring him or vice versa though,” Emma chimed in. “Then it would have just been the same thing we’d already been doing which would have been fun but kinda boring at the same time. We wanted to challenge ourselves to create something new together from the beginning. Luckily our label was open to the idea and let us run with it.”

“And the name?” Tink prodded.

“A bit of an inside joke, really,” he said with a chuckle, reaching over to clasp Emma’s hand in his, “Whenever we made reservations or had to give a name for whatever reason I used Charles and Emma used Leia. I don’t even remember why-”

Emma snorted, “When he made the reservations for our first date and they asked for a name he panicked. We’d been watching The Crown and he blurted out the name Charles. At least he didn’t completely lose his shit and say Elizabeth.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the curse and clapped her hands over her mouth. Tink waved her hand in dismissal. Not a moment later the producer let them know through their headphones that cursing was fine but to keep it to a minimum if possible.

“Anyway,” Emma said evenly, though her cheeks were pink, “When it was my turn to make reservations I kept it going. Princess Leia was my hero when I was a kid. Still is actually.”

“As she is for us all,” Killian jumped in, “Of course we no longer use those as our aliases but when we were trying to decide how we wanted to present ourselves for this album this seemed appropriate.”

“We also figured it would give people the chance to listen to the songs without already having an idea of what they thought it should sound like because they knew it was us,” Emma explained, “I mean, it’s not like we’re trying to deceive anyone or anything but a lot of times people don’t try something out because they think they know exactly what it’s going to be. I know I’m totally guilty of it sometimes.”

“I’ve been listening to the album non-stop since it came out last week and you’re absolutely right, if I hadn’t already known that it was you two I wouldn’t have even been able to guess. Now, I’ve played alongside both of you and have been a fan of each of your music since both of your beginnings and I have to say, Charles & Leia is nothing like the music you’ve released before. What would you say were the biggest influences on how you approached the creation of this album?”

Killian took a moment to consider Tink’s question. He immediately dismissed sharing the long convoluted answer that began with innocent questions about one another’s past that led to a months long search into the mystery of Emma’s beginnings that came up empty while he nearly spiralled out of control once more over the unhealed pain of his borderline abusive and neglectful father. They were still working through some of those issues in therapy and even with the personal nature of the songs they’d written he didn’t feel it was necessary to elaborate on what the lyrics already implied.

“I can’t speak for Emma but for me it’s a look to the past and what influence it has on the present and the future. Take the title track for instance, my mother was Irish so I looked to the old Celtic folk songs and the instruments used, mimicking the flow of the music before playing around with more modern sounds. The result was entirely unique but still felt familiar, like an auditory deja vu, if you will.”

Tink was nodding furiously while Emma rolled her eyes at him, “I definitely won’t be that eloquent but yeah, we both have things in our past that sometimes takes a toll on who we are today. Our music was already pretty personal. I mean, I’ve written songs about growing up in foster care or when I was in jail but this was something else. Every day when we finished recording whatever song we were working on I felt like I’d been turned inside out and then wrung out but in a good way? It makes no sense but I’ve also never been this proud of one of my albums.”

“Well you should both be damn proud! I may be the tad bit biased but I think this may be the best album to come out this year and we’re only halfway through,” Tink effused.

“Thank you lass,” he mumbled as he scratched behind his ear at the compliment.

He caught Emma’s eye and she gave him an indulgent smile. She was well aware that sincere praise always tended to discomfit him, as he felt he was undeserving of it, especially when it came from someone he knew well. It was something he was working on getting better at accepting, with her help of course.

“Since the album was a surprise release there hasn’t been any confirmation of a tour yet. Any chance we’ll be seeing you two taking this act on the road?”

“We’re doing a kind of a mini tour on the east coast and then a couple of dates out here,” Emma explained, her eyes sparkling, “We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves and book a bunch of dates and then not have anyone show up.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tink dismissed with a bright laugh, “From what I’ve been told nearly every show is sold out. So if any of you listeners out there want to see Emma and Killian perform songs from this brilliant new album I’d say don’t wait to buy your tickets. I already have mine.

“Now, I know this album is only weeks old and you both have flourishing solo careers but I have to ask: can we expect even bigger things from you two in the future?”

With a smile he had no hope of quelling he gave Emma a wink, though he was reasonably sure that it was nowhere near subtle. It didn’t matter though, as no one had a clue what it could mean since she had only shown him the positive pregnancy test earlier that morning. Emma gave him a beaming grin of her own and he kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mic.

“I think you can, Tink. In fact, I’m quite certain that this is merely the happy beginning of grand things to come.”

#captain swan #cs fan fic #cs fanfic #cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fan fiction #ouat ff #my writing

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forgeandgredimagines · 4 years

Text

Mischievous Antics 『Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader』

Request: Hey hey!! I really love your work, I was wondering if you could make a kuroo x reader oneshot of kuroo messing with the reader and they start playfully fighting bc of that. I dont know if you get what I mean but thank you in advanced 🖤❤️ (Anon)

A/N: I totally get what you mean :>> I feel like Kuroo would definitely be the type of boyfriend that would always mess with and annoy you. But you still love him regardless of his ridiculous antics, because who wouldn't?

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist!!

Everyone who's known Kuroo is well aware of the fact that he is, to put it simply, a ginormous troublemaker. Everyone knows that they have to be especially careful around the man, else they'll find themselves in some sort of sticky situation. Which is definitely why you don't have the right to blame Kuroo for taking embarrassing photos of you, that he may or may not use for blackmail, you should be blaming yourself for falling asleep in the middle of the living room wearing the ridiculous looking (though undeniably comfortable) t-rex onesie Tsukishima gifted you for your birthday, with a Korean face masks that was probably way too overpriced to be a reasonable purchase, but you didn't care.

It was Sunday evening, you were home alone and you wanted to pamper yourself. College was just as, if not more, tiring than they made it seem when you were in high school, hence why you needed a day for yourself every once in a while.

This was precisely the reason why Kuroo decided to surprise you that night with a bags full of your favorite foods and a list of movies you two could binge watch that night. He got in with the spare key he knew you hid under a flower pot by the entrance and instead of being greeted with a big hug from you after being pleasantly surprised with his sudden arrival and presents, he found you passed out cold in the living room, a bowl of half melted ice cream precariously clutched in your arms, only inches away from spilling all over your onesie, which Kuroo found incredibly cute. The anime that you had previously been watching was still playing, you had just missed an epic boss battle between the protagonist and his best friend who was secretly evil but that wasn't important. What was important was how completely ridiculous you looked.

Kuroo tried to stifle his laughter. Emphasis on tried. He couldn't help but let out a few giggles which luckily didn't do much but make you stir groggily, the ice cream miraculously still not spilling everywhere.

He hastily carried the bags of food into the kitchen and rushed back to you with his phone in his hand, the camera app already open. He positioned the camera right above you, he made sure to get the most unflattering angle because he was a good boyfriend.

All would have gone well if he hadn't forgotten to turn the flash off. The bright light flashed over your face waking you from your slumber. Kuroo froze in place, his phone still hovering over you. You groggily looked up at him, rubbing your eyes.

"Tetsu?" You asked, your voice laced with sleepiness. Your hand brushed over your cheeks and felt the face mask, and you suddenly realized what was happening.

You two stood there for a few seconds, frozen. And just like that you two jumped like frightened cats. Kuroo jumped over the coffee table, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He ran as if his life depended on it, and to be honest, it kind of did.

You let out a screech in shock and leapt after him, the bowl of ice cream now crashing onto the ground, but he was too quick for you.

Before Kuroo could run into the bathroom to lock himself in, he tripped on the carpet but he caught himself before he crashed onto the ground, but this momentary delay gave you time to catch up on him. You made a grab for the phone but Kuroo quickly held it up in the air, far from your reach. His years of volleyball and troublemaking had lead to him developing rather fast reflexes.

He pried you off of him and ran into the kitchen instead, and found himself cornered behind the small kitchen island. You skidded to halt right across from him, the island being the only thing keeping you from strangling the man.

"Had a good nap, hun?" He grinned cheekily at you. He waved out his phone, close enough that you could see your incriminating photo in full HD but far enough that it was only a little bit more than arms length.

You growled at him as you internally asked yourself why you were dating the oaf. You threw your face mask at him.

"Kuroo Tetsurou, you are such an asshole!" You bellowed. His grin only grew wider. You dashed towards him from the left of the island but Kuroo ran towards the right, leading you two to be in the same position but on the other sides of the granite surface.

"I swear when I get my hands on you-" You began listing down rather violent ways on how you were going to make the male regret his actions.

Kuroo's face only grew more smug at these threats. "You're so cute when you're feeling homicidal tendencies." He cooed at you. "But I think this is much more cuter."

He grinned down at his phone, ignoring your death glare, when an idea popped into his head. "It would...be a shame if...this happened to be accidentally sent to someone."

You gasped at these words. "You wouldn't."

"Come on, let's be honest, we both know that I would."

He began tapping on his phone, preparing to send the incriminating photo to the groupchat you, Kuroo and your closest friends were in. This list included Kenma, Yaku, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Akaashi and several of your other friends. You'd never hear the end of it.

You clenched your fists in defeat and stared at your feet (which were t-rex feet but that wasn't important).

Kuroo was just about to send the photo when he heard a sniffle. He froze in his place, guilt already beginning to engulf him.

He turned to you, you were biting your lips in frustration, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. He hated when you cried, especially when he was the one that caused them to begin with.

"Hey, hey, no, I was just playing around. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset." He cautiously approached you. "I won't send it to anyone, I promise."

He was now beside you, rubbing your shoulders consolingly, when he noticed the corners of your mouth rising by a fraction.

It was too late, you had grabbed ahold of his phone. You ducked under his arm and ran for the living room, quickly trying to delete the photo from both the gallery and the recently deleted folder, but you couldn't do this quickly as you were running from a feral and thoroughly betrayed man behind you.

He quickly gained on you and tried to grab the phone, you two were now having a tug of war contest with the unfortunate device. Kuroo then tripped on a shoe and fell onto the floor, his face landing on the spilt ice cream. The melted vanilla and chocolate was smeared all over the side of his face and was all over his hair but his focus was still on the phone that he managed to hold on to even during his fall.

"Let--go!" You cried out and you pulled with all your might.

"It's my phone--you hag!"

As Kuroo said this though, his grip on the phone loosened and you found yourself falling back from the sudden loss of force from his end. You exclaimed in delight as you brought the phone up to your face, only to gasp in horror as you took in what was on the screen.

Amidst the chaos that just ensued, one of you had unknowingly managed to send the photo the the group chat.

Bokuto, always the first to see messages, had already sent a dozen or so messages and gifs, his delight evident. Akaashi, who checked the chat because of Bokuto's spamming, was now sharing his own delightfully sarcastic comments. Yaku had just seen the photo and was already typing his reaction as you groaned in defeat.

Kuroo grabbed the phone from your lax hands and roared in laughter upon seeing the chat. He struggled to breath as he fell into more laughter, tears even started to prickle his eyes, when a bright light flashed and a little notification pinged from Kuroo's phone.

He looked down onto the groupchat only to see his own face, manic with glee. He had to admit, he looked ridiculous, with melted, sticky vanilla and chocolate ice cream smeared all over his face, clothes and hair, which was now messier than ever, which is saying something for the male.

He looked over at your smug face. You were still lying on the ground from your fall earlier, but your hands were now clasped on your own phone which was left on the coffee table beside you earlier.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

"I really hate you, you know." He said playfully as he began poking the sides of your stomach. You burst into laughter from his unrelenting tickling and struggled under him. When you calmed down from your fits of giggles, you sighed and smiled fondly at him. "I love you too, jerk."

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srprincess · 5 years

Text

Fictober prompt 4 - “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

Fandom - check please

- part two of the SpookydooAU, now a wip on Ao3 (still without a decent title, sorry?

Will led them to the cemetery. Just as well he was leading them, because, tucked away behind the trees like it was, there was a fair chance they’d have passed it and looped back around to him again.

Once parked, they all climbed out of the vehicle and spread out - honestly how did they fit in that thing? He was watching and still couldn’t figure it out.

He took the map from Man-Bun and Short Woman when they brought it over and marked it as promised. Circled a couple of the public open lighthouses. Made sure to put a circle with a line through on his own place. Even drew a little gravestone and wrote ‘you are here’ at the graveyard, and a big star around the visitors center.

“Great, thanks man!” Man-Bun said as he slapped Will on the back. “I know you didn’t ask for this, us basically showing up on your doorstep, but we’d be lost without you. For real. We’re normally much more prepared than this-“

“Normally? So you do this a lot, ummm,” Will searched his head for the name. He couldn’t just call him Man-Bun out loud. Had any of the others called him something?

Picking up on the reason for the pause, he helped, “Shitty Knight.”

Confusing subject change, Will thought. “Night? It’s day. Barely started, and not that bad a one. Fair seasonal, really.” God, these people were odd.

“No, my name. It’s Shitty. Well, nickname. Because my actual name is ... well, shitty. Hey! You need a nickname! Let me think -“

“Please. Don’t.” Will said under his breath as ‘Shitty’ - and he had thought calling him Man-Bun would have been too rude? - wandered off butchering his name in a variety of new and creative ways.

Short Woman stepped up, “Larissa, or Lardo to my fellow heathens here, and to answer your question - because we’ve lost Shits for a while - we go ghost hunting as a group every year. We normally shoot for a week in April, but a couple of us were busy this year. And then summer started late for Jack sooooo,“

Will frowned, how could summer be late? And for one person? It was a season. Weirder and weirder.

“Lucky we all managed to match up a few free days here in fall though. We waited too long and couldn’t get rooms at our planned spot, but then we heard about this place and so we threw this trip together and here we are. Late, lost and in your debt.”

“Don’t think of it. Ummm it seems like you’re all set now, so I’m gonna head back?”

She gave him a thumbs up and joined the rest who were checking names on all the stones.

He could have told them they were looking in the wrong area. Between the pamphlet, their interest in this particular cemetery and his particular lighthouse, the stories they could be chasing were limited. Most of those people came nosing around towards December, but scheduling was a thing from what they said so - yeah. He was pretty sure he knew who they were looking for. As sure as he could be without a name.

It was the typical story, from the time of his great grandparents. Lone woman from away seen walking along the road at night disappears under mysterious circumstances, never to be heard from again. Other than ghostly sightings of a shadowy figure along the harbor roads and beaches at night that is. There was a little more to it in this case, main thing being that this one’s body had actually been found later. Stone’s throw from the lighthouse, in fact. Such a sad story, no one had even come to claim her.

He tried not to think about it too much. Knowing he was the last of his family made things like that hit a little harder as the years passed.

There had been talk years back about giving her a proper stone, but many of the residents didn’t want to attract any more of this exact kind of attention. They wanted to be known more for their spectacular views than mysterious probably murders from a century earlier. And so she continued her rest under the trees at the edge of the cemetery, her grave simply marked by plain stones. Mostly safe from the looky loos, unless they were really into the area history. With no real family to mourn her, the village felt the best they could offer was to give her the peace of anonymity at this point.

Any matter, he didn’t want to seem too helpful to this group and make them feel welcome to asking more of him. So he kept his mouth shut, and let them search in all the wrong spots. It was kind of uncomfortable for him, watching them traipse all over the graves. He couldn’t help but think of his own family’s site and be glad it was in an entirely different cemetery. All this only made him miss the quiet of his home even more, so he slipped away while the group continued their search.

—

When Will got back home, he climbed back up to the lantern room of the lighthouse. Time to get back to work. He didn’t like getting so late a start, but since he kept things in generally good order he knew it would be fine.

So much of the works were run on automated timers these days. His dad had been happy to get all that put in so that, barring storms, he wouldn’t have to go up and do it all manual. Sometimes Will wondered what it had been like in the old days, and thought he would have enjoyed the hard work of it all. Of course, that was easy to say when not actually facing the reality of cold stair climbs in the dark and restless nights.

Not that the modernizing made for an easy life either. Seemed like there was always something needing doing. Keeping the windows clean of sea spray seemed like a full job in itself as the weather got rougher each fall.

He noted one of the bolts was starting to get stripped after he tightened it. He’d need to pick up some spares before next month.

Everything else checked out, and he updated the log.

Finally finished, he pulled the binoculars out of the pouch he kept inside the door before heading out in the ‘walk for one last look around before darkness fell.

Oh great, there was someone taking pictures from the scenic lookout with one of those damned giant lens aimed his way. He flipped off their general direction and muttered “frame that” and kept scanning the shoreline.

One of the regular beachcombers waved. Will could never remember her name, but, thanks to a conversation they’d had while she waited for the tide to change one day, he knew she made wind chimes to sell with the shells she collected.

He was wondered if she’d seen his response to the tourists. It should have been hard from the distance, but she appeared to be laughing.

Sometimes he wondered if he should be nicer to the tourists. Or at least ignore them better. After all, the majority of the village did need them bringing money in to keep afloat in the off seasons. But, nah. Not like he went to their houses and aimed giant cameras in their windows. Hardly his fault if they found his place so interesting. It was still rude. And if a nice person like her found him ruining their photos funny, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

Looking further down he saw another tourist group taking shore line pictures. With a normal camera. Like normal people. People who weren’t treating him like some sort of animal at the zoo and snapping HD pics of him in his ‘enclosure’.

When he had made it around to the view of his drive he saw the clown car of an SUV approaching again.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO.”

#fictober19 #omgcp #fic #spookydoo au #dex #so much dex right now #don't worry #i haven't forgotten the rest of the crew #especially nursey #but this is a large number of people i've saddled myself with #they need to take turns being important!#will i ever update at a decent time of day?#all signs point to no

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resonanteye · 4 years

Photo

via http://resonanteye.net/current-events-condensed/

current events; condensed

A condensed post including short writings on current events.

CONSPIRACIES ARE NOT SECRET IN THIS CENTURY

open up? conspiracies? here’s the real one.

if They want to “cull the weak” and control us better, what better way than to present a false choice between going back to work and risking lives, or slowly going broke at home?

it’s a false choice. there are hoarders, greedy fucks holding money they’re not entitled to, billions. enough for everything to be covered. hell, the Pentagon LOST enough money to pay EVERYONE’S rent and mortgage for the best six months. LOST IT.

The conspiracy? PRETEND THAT MONEY ISN’T THERE. force people to fight over scraps, pretend there are only two options. don’t let people come together and agree that TOO MUCH MONEY IS IN TOO FEW HANDS, because that might mean we can beat this thing.

unity among the poor? PREVENT AT ALL COSTS. if you kill a few hundred thousand people in the process, fuck it. that doesn’t matter to Them. They want to keep their grip on power, forcing us to behave like serfs working at their pleasure, dying for their capital gains. Living in their damn bunkers.

There is more than these two choices, don’t let them suck you in. the current garbage video circulating is MORE OF THEIR SHIT. it’s part of this. it’s not “secret info” or “exposing an evil plan”.

to get what They want – they’ve just got to keep us arguing about whether to open up or not. that’s it. that’s all they’ve got to do. circulate some fake anti science garbage to make sure it goes over easy.

and murder a ton of people to make another dollar.

THAT’S your conspiracy. THERE’S your elite takeover.

they don’t need micro chips, 5g, or any of this other shit. vaccines aren’t “Them”, the anti vax movement is THEM trying to murder the “useless”.

” WAKE UP, SHEEPLE ” it’s obvious as fuck and you don’t need to go out on any limbs to see it. it’s plain as day. they’re saying it out loud. there’s no need for this conspiracy to be secret. half of you are HAPPY TO JOIN IN.

stop that. join together. fight for the end of greedy leeches stealing from us then pretending that money is gone and they can’t help. the big banks? THEY FUCKING OWE US ONE. it’s time we collect, TOGETHER. right/left/middle. all of us. they owe all of us.

Divine is disgusted by slumming yuppies

SEGREGATION, A REAL THING

in a post about this photo, someone from Europe, younger, asked if segregation was a real thing, a real law in the US. comments were then closed, so I’ll post my reply here instead, in case anyone was not aware.

Elvis sits to eat at a segregated lunch counter while an elderly black woman stands, waiting for food to take away. she’s not allowed to sit there.

it was law, and when it wasn’t the law it was the unspoken rule, for a very long time.

lunch counter (restaurants of all kinds), bus sections, bathrooms, water faucets and schools were separated by race. the fight to desegregate schools is most well known, as it lasted a very long time and required buses, because people of color had also been segregated by neighborhood- many towns refused to sell and owners refused to rent to anyone of color in a “white area”. (the TV show “the Jeffersons” addresses this, and it’s also known as “redlining”)

many politicians on both sides of the aisle supported it, but the Democratic party eventually worked to pass the civil rights amendment and related bills to stop it, although there were those in the party who still argued in favor of these laws.

https://www.businessinsider.com/biden-said-desegregation-would-create-a-racial-jungle-2019-7

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lester_Maddox

(of note- this happened after desegregation, that’s how strongly politicians felt about it! ten years in and they were still arguing that it had been a good thing.)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massive_resistance

after it legally ended, thanks to the civil rights movement, there was blowback; people trying to vote, to eat lunch, ride the bus, go to school, were viciously attacked by crowds or groups of white people.

FILE – In this May 28, 1963 file photo, a group of whites pour sugar, ketchup and mustard over the heads of Tougaloo College student demonstrators at a sit-in demonstration at a Woolworth’s lunch counter in Jackson, Miss. Seated at the counter, from left, are Tougaloo College professor John Salter,and students Joan Trumpauer and Anne Moody. John Salter, who also used the name John Hunter Gray, died Monday, Jan. 7, 2019 at his home in Pocatello, Idaho. Relatives say he was 84 when he died Monday after an illness. (Fred Blackwell/The Clarion-Ledger via AP, File) ORG XMIT: MSJAD701

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_Riders https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Crow_laws

during this time, due to so much police and community violence, the Black Panther formed to monitor and protect people.

https://www.wglt.org/post/director-chronicles-black-panthers-rise-new-tactics-were-needed#stream/0

members of the Black Panthers, preparing to feed the community

GENERATION X

sure, we are slackers. yeah. we’re ok with staying home. you have just told a generation of latchkey tech addicts raised during the bridge from antenna TVs to HD internet streaming to sit at home. if you’d feed us, we wouldn’t even blink at it. this quarantine stuff? that’s not the hard thing.

but we’re watching friends and family die. a lot of us have been down this road before. we’ve watched right wing pigs (yes, I’ll say it) allow our friends to die before. we’ve been down this road of denial and greed and prejudice and all of it. we’ve seen what happens when politicians value money and ego over human lives, and we know it SUCKS ASS.

hell, we watched Reagan. Bush. Bush. Clinton, too-he was only a hair better. and so-

when we need to, we pound the pavement. we toss the bricks. we get arrested. we wipe mace out of our eyes and stampede.

we always tend to be masked, regardless of standards of the moment. I don’t think, in my life, I’ve been to a protest that didn’t have a contingent of masked people wishing to avoid cameras. Now, a protest for actual assistance for people? a real protest, a fight for better conditions, the 300-some strikes that have happened that the news ISN’T covering? yeah. surgical masks. they’re brilliant photos, but not as interesting for the crap media as a few fat guys with guns.

because that’s the joke they want to show us, yeah? not people actually fighting in solidarity, to protect each other, get better work conditions, protect the disabled, get better healthcare for all, support people financially… the shit the majority of people really want. no. they’re not covering that real shit.

the news, they like a spectacle.

we need to find ways to make the facts spectacular.

I have rarely seen my generation protest FOR corporate interests and find any such thing suspicious as all fuck. I don’t believe a bit of that shit. That’s paid for, that’s arranged, that’s a pony show. That’s the same tiny batch of zonked out cultists that don’t have a trump rally to travel to right now. it’s like a damn road show, the same hundred people, like some Boomer deadhead traveling bus shit. I don’t trust it and I don’t believe it. the older folks at them, yeah. they’re that little band of travelers. sure. but us?

Seattle police use gas to push back World Trade Organization protesters in downtown Seattle Tuesday, Nov. 30, 1999. The protests delayed the opening of the WTO third ministerial conference. (AP Photo/Eric Draper)

because even though we will go do Things, we are, in fact, ok with staying home.

and we don’t like your fucking company. and corporations bought our music and art and killed it in front of our eyes, and there’s no getting our trust back. and we will wear a goddamn busted ass thrift store sack before we spend money on slave-sewn clothes. and we would rather read and write and play music and watch movies all damn day, than go to jobs in cubicles.

War protesters and march to Gas Works Park protesting the US involvement in the Persian Gulf and the buid up to war against Irag January 15 deadline 1991 Seattle Washington State USA

I mean, we’ll usually go, because we gotta eat. so feed us. give us bread. you already poisoned the roses.

THE ASSHOLE FACTORY

this is where your conspiracy videos are made. in the asshole factory.

what do you notice about these photos? do you see the threats? what kind of people are there?

it is almost like there’s a monthly event they’ve been going to, that’s been cancelled, where they could hold up trump signs and boo anything reasonable… wonder what that event is. where have you seen some of these faces before? I’ve seen a few in the rally photos and videos.

check out “small business” guy. who is he? does he own a “small business”, you think? (photos by Orin Louis)

ON THE PANDEMIC

a lot of people talking about immunity/reinfection and that study.

that study is just saying we don’t know yet. we just don’t know yet.

it’s early days.

Coronavirus is not influenza, they’re two different families of virus. VERY different.

this is more related to the common cold (in its behavior)than to the flu. (the cold is a rhinovirus. SARS & MERS, and Covid-19, if you want to find out more about these viruses, don’t look up the flu-they are Coronaviruses.)

it is contagious the way a cold is, but it has serious effects on any part of the body with ace2 receptors. (simply put- blood, lungs, heart, kidneys, brain)

they have been working on a cold vaccine for decades. no success. BUT. again, it’s early days. there’s never been this kind of pressure for a vaccine for it. so, to be direct: we don’t know yet. they’ve never been this desperate, this well funded, to find a cold vaccine.

this could be a seasonal thing, eventually- it could mutate to be less lethal and become just another cold we can get every year. it could mutate to be even more vicious and we all are in serious danger all the time. it could create immunity, and some will be ok for a year or a month or a decade… it might not, and people can catch it again and worse.

we just don’t know yet. the whole reason we are isolating the way we are is to buy time for science to find these answers. we’re not in quarantine to “kill it off” or stop it. we are slowing it down so science can have time to find answers, so less of us die while that happens.

every day we don’t infect other people, is a day in which researchers can work. we need them to work. they are doing that. every day we don’t infect other people, is a day this virus doesn’t get a chance to mutate and change. this helps a lot.

science needs time. all this economic mayhem- it’s to buy them time to help us, to figure it out. the answers won’t come right away and during this time we may hear things that are being tried and tested, some may not work at all, some may be worse than nothing, so information won’t be steady or always correct. when you read a thing, wait a day. read more about it. read the actual study- and if you can’t, wait a few days and read what scientific sources say about it (the lancet, NEJM, etc). don’t rely on NBC, fox, etc to do a great job reporting on science. you’ll have to have patience, even science is having to watch and wait while things are researched, right now.

nobody has the answers; it’s NOVEL. brand new.

they’re testing, they’re researching, they’re learning this thing’s secrets as fast as they can, while we wait that process out.

be as safe as you can be while we buy them the time.

image: pink pangolin drawing in frame

COMMON SENSE KNOWLEDGE

FOR ACCURACY

You shouldn’t leave the house unless you absolutely have to: food, medicine, or other necessity of life. This includes going to other people’s houses.

Masks are good at protecting others if you are infected, and help protect you too, just not as much as others. Wear one.

Stores are closed, unless they provide food or medicine. Alcohol is a necessity for alcoholics who will have actual seizures and could die from withdrawal, so some of those are open. (Some states have been pressured into letting other things stay open, and people insist on going to church and being able to buy guns in public stores, but that’s political shit and you shouldn’t go places unless you have to.)

This virus is deadly to many people, even healthy ones, is as contagious as a common cold, and has killed more people in a month than the flu does in a year. You don’t want to catch it, and if you do, you want to catch it when doctors and nurses aren’t overworked from other people catching it too. There are 8 strains identified right now. This will change over time, because it’ll mutate- like every virus. EVERY virus.

Glovesw help, unless you change them after touching a contaminated surface. They’re good if used properly and if you’re not sure how to do that, don’t bother. Just wash your hands often.

Everyonen to stay home, but you can go outside- away from people. Staying a good distance from people is really the whole point of staying home.

There will be shortages of some things at the grocery store as supplies run out, and as things are shipped to replace them. Chill out.

The virus does spread through and sometimes kill children, but we weren’t aware of this until we had better information.

You will have many symptoms when you are sick, but you will be contagious for up to two weeks before you get sick. YOU WILL BE CONTAGIOUS WITH NO TEMPERATURE OR SYMPTOMS.

You really shouldn’t be eating restaurant food, unless you can reheat it. Wipe down or wash off your groceries.

You are safe if you maintain six feet distance from others, if everyone is masked and nobody is coughing or sneezing. If they are, you need about 27 feet of distance. Keep space from people.

The virus remains active on different surfaces for a time. The surface being porous may or may not matter; like many things, research by science will give better answers as they have time to figure it out.

We count the number of deaths but we don’t know how many people are infected because most places have not got enough tests to see who is infected. Until we can test everyone, stay home, stay away from people.

We have no treatment. There are clinical trials of many different drugs and at least one vaccine, right now, but it will take time to find out what works.

We should stay away from people to avoid spreading this virus until scientists can offer a treatment or preventative measure like a vaccine. There is no reason to infect people, help the virus mutate, or fuck around with this.

If you are an essential worker of ANY kind, you deserve a living wage, hazard pay, full PPE and kindness from everyone who needs you right now. we should be fighting for your safety, not to make things more dangerous for you.

Stop spreading misinformation. Science doesn’t know everything about this yet, information can and will change or become more specific as time goes by. Yes, business interests and governments have handled the entire thing like a clown show, but you don’t have to be part of making it worse.

THE VALIDITY OF PROTESTING IN THIS TIME

protest for:

stronger unions

better pay

stronger social safety nets during a pandemic

your right to own and bear arms

your freedom of speech/freedom from unwarranted surveillance

safer working conditions

medical care for all

free education

fair elections

physical safety from police violence

safety from racist/hate crimes

NOT FOR:

fuck, BUYING things. don’t protest to be able to go buy shit? what the hell is wrong with you?!? you can buy a gun next month, dipshit. you can buy through private sale. fuck all the way off with that.

SOMEONE ELSE TO WAIT ON YOU (haircuts, restaurants, nails, tattoos, etc)

the right to block hospital entrances (we all saw the footage, shut the fuck up)

the right to gigantic church services during a pandemic. YOU CAN DO LIKE GRANDPA DID AND WATCH YOUR PREACHER ON THE TEE VEE.

going to a shit job that you’ve never liked instead of all the things above that would have allowed you to get through this shit without starving to begin with

by the way, local seed and feed stores are open nation wide; agriculture is considered an essential business. you can’t buy whatever the fuck at wallymart right now though, SO SORRY. maybe don’t even fucking shop there?

edit to add; if they were only endangering themselves I wouldn’t give a shit – but you know these fuckers are getting too close to store cashiers, walking the wrong way down narrow aisles, and touching every-fuckin-thing.

also: 81% of people polled, from EVERY political group, think they should be staying home. and agree with that. THIS IS A CRAP PROTEST BY A TINY, UNIMPORTANT GROUP and should not be getting the coverage it is. they aren’t enough to restore an economy, let alone fill a small concert hall.

I may split these into separate posts, if you’d like that, comment so I know people need/want that.

#advice #current events #pandemic #911 #complaints #deep thoughts #dos and donts #ethics #health and safety #politics #posts with lists in them #questions #true stories #Uncategorized #wtc 9/11 einstruzende neubauten artistic poetic terrori #you

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rkshion · 7 years

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i wasn’t able to tell you but i liked you —

#rkhdtalent — 2x speed girl group dancing by PARK JIHOON september 30th, 2017: LIVE PERFORMANCE + signal by TWICE (0:04-0:14+0:17-0:28) + boombayah by BLACKPINK (1:02-1:27) + rough by GFRIEND (0:43-1:00) + dumb dumb by RED VELVET (0:29-0:59+1:01-1:03) + five by SHE’Z (6:39-6:52+8:32-8:34) outfit: ( ✩ )

the first thing that came to mind when he thought of his talents was dancing. his entire life revolved around it and it was definitely something he wouldn’t be scared to showcase. in second place came soccer, though jihoon wasn’t sure if he could do something with that for the talent show. and that was it. it wasn’t like he could knit a sweater up on the stage or badly play the kazoo, so his talent options turned out to be way more limited than he had originally expected. he couldn’t just dance, though. too many people would do that.

jihoon knew he had to stand out somehow and just dancing along to a good choreography he found online wasn’t going to cut it. memories from his recent project gave him ideas. why not take the extra step and make it girl group dancing? his mind immediately shut off any thoughts about wearing dresses, and the boy couldn’t help but agree. he wouldn’t only use a single song but multiple. a medley! it’d not only show his dancing abilities but also confidence and maybe even future variety skills.

without a worry the boy gathered song ideas, organizing them in a way the music would flow nicely. it took him an entire afternoon choosing dances that he both knew and that he didn’t, trying to make it perfect. he smiled proudly at his finished work before picking up his phone. woojin was his best friend and part-time rival, so checking on his progress was a must.

〔 ✉ ⇒ 까마귀여운 〕

↪ wow i think i’m done choosing my hd talent!! ↪ what are you going to do?? ↪ i picked nice girl group songs to dance to ↪ medley style

the reply wasn’t what he wanted. so woojin would be doing the same thing?

jihoon gently sat his phone beside him, staring at the list that had taken him hours to arrange, only to imagine other people doing just the same. of course - it was no fresh idea; people did dance medleys all the time.

his hands felt no shame in deleting his hard work. he’d have to think of something better and there would be no point in dwelling on the past. so the boy kept searching the internet for any better ideas, too stuck on girl group dancing to navigate away. with one click she’z showed up on his screen. they were in a variety show after their latest comeback and a challenge came upon them - perhaps one that he could use.

two times the speed. he finished his list faster than before - two times the speed. no one would be doing that! the fact the songs were all sped up also allowed him to add more music to the mix. in no time there it was: the perfect performance. he reached for his phone once again with a smirk to type a message he truly meant.

〔 ✉ ⇒ 까마귀여운 〕

↪ good luck to you then!! ↪ shall the best one win!!

+++

there’s an actual crowd and he busied himself with making sure his clothing was in place. it’d be his turn soon and he wanted to sure he was looking his best. after another contestant moved away his eyes kept focused on the MC while he talked to the camera as if he could see the people inside of it. professional. jihoon would rather pretend there was no one watching so it wouldn’t affect his head.

“so let’s hear from our next contestant!” the boy nervously took a step forward and then proceed with his approach after receiving a sign from lee jonghyuk himself. his eyes kept staring at the older male, not wanting to stare at the thousands of people who were probably looking right at him instead. “so why don’t you tell us your name?” jihoon quickly nodded before bowing to the camera with a smile. “hello! my name is park jihoon!”

after the introduction was quickly done he returned his eyes to jonghyuk, keeping the smile on his face. “what talent will you be showing us today?” the boy dropped his head to one side, releasing as much charm as he could towards the camera. “well, if i told you it’d ruin the surprise.”

+++

he walked onto the stage and people clapped for his entrance even if they had no idea who he was or what he was going to do. there was a marking on the floor to show where the center was and there was where he stood. it took him a second to observe the view from up there and take everything in. could that be the first stage of many?

with lungs filled with air he gave them a smile. “hello!” a bow, then a straight back. “my name is park jihoon and i am an eighteen-year-old high school student.” he tapped his handheld microphone twice before continuing. “today i’ll be doing a girl group relay dance, but…” he let the silence sit for a second, allowing whoever was paying attention to wonder. “with a twist! please enjoy it!”

after receiving a nod from one of the judges jihoon turned off his microphone and placed it a few steps ahead so it wouldn’t bother him. once he was back on the marking he took two steps back, knowing the choreography would force him to move forward. his starting position had him with his back to the public, hands in the shape of a heart against his back. people could already guess what he was about to perform - but not exactly how.

the song already started two times faster, his body bouncing up and down as he had practiced doing. once he turned around he tried focusing on the space between the judges, not wanting to look at anyone and maybe end up ruining what he had practiced hard for. jihoon had spent a lot of time checking when would be the best time to catch a breath, and one thing he had learned was that smiling really took a lot of energy.

whenever he could relax his cheeks he would, which normally happened in between songs, or when he had to look down and turn around. even so, he had prepared almost two full minutes of fast dancing, and jihoon was unsure if there was a human out there who could actually survive all of it without any problem. by the last song he was already hunting for air - but thanks to its calmer choreography it let him catch up with his breathing.

after the deed had been done he gave the public a bow and started jogging to the exit. a staff member frenetically pointed at the microphone he had forgotten on stage, forcing him to return to it before being allowed backstage. thankfully they had napkins at their disposal. he should have worn fewer layers of clothing.

#rkhdtalent #rkwoojin #( bc mentioned )#( solo ;; ✩ )

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 7 years

Text

The Hunt

Modern AU where Zuko and Azula are cryptid hunters and go off chasing the Loch Ness monster. Oh, and Zhao is there.

A ripple on the surface had Zuko gripping his gun with a new sense of urgency.

“Aye laddy, Ah don’t think that’s gonna help.” Zhao muttered.

Azula followed his gaze to a particularly murky spot in the water. Either it was naturally ominous like that or something had kicked up the mud and seaweed below. With her gaze never leaving the murk, she fumbled through her bag. At last her fingers brushed over a lens. With a still unwavering stare, she cleaned the lens on her shirt and held the camera out. She messed with it for a moment or two, zooming in and out trying to find an optimal focus.

“Can you put that away!?” Zuko snapped. “We’re not here to take pictures this time. We’re here to get rid of that thing once and for all!”

“Get rid of it?” Azula asked as she snapped her picture.

“Kill it, lass.” Zhao clarified.

“I know what he meant.” Azula grumbled. “Killing it was never part of the plan.”

“It’s what we brought ye here tae do.” Zhao shrugged.

Zuko nodded in agreement. “That’s what I came to do. I didn’t sail all the way to Scotland to gawk at the thing.”

Azula rolled her eyes; once again the siblings had two entirely different objectives. For Zuko it was always kill, kill, kill. Hunt and kill, since he couldn’t bring their mother back, he would go out of his way to make sure no other family suffered a loss like their own. Of course, sometimes, he went overboard. “Just because it’s mysterious and hard to come by doesn’t mean that…”

“Yes it does!” He cut in.

She didn’t know why she even bothered. She always did have a soft spot for the monsters they pursued. Perhaps it was because, for the better part of her life, she had always been told that she was one of them. Frankly, Azula came along on the hunts mostly for the journey, as corny as that sounded. Zuko adored the fame and glory that came with conquering the town terror and Azula enjoyed the intellectual acclaim that came from studying the remains and the behavioral patterns the cryptids exhibited in life. She enjoyed seeing her photos in the glossy pages of various nature magazines, and sometimes featured on the cover. If she was being honest, it was an odd change of pace; usually she coveted the thrill of the conquer and Zuko reveled in beauty of it all.

Azula glanced at the photo she had just taken, every tiny bubble beneath the surface captured and rendered in perfect HD. She squinted at the photo, noticing for the first time that a shape blotted the murk.

“It were probably a trick of the mist.” She heard Zhao mutter.

“Speaking of…why did you insist that we try to find this thing in the fog? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait for clearer weather?”

“Nessie doesn’t like to show ‘erself in the sunlight. Ah only ever see ‘er in the mist.”

As their argument continued, Azula peered over the deck—if something so small could even be called that. The sandy cloud beneath the water seemed to swirl as though more dust was being kicked up. The same thing that was responsible for the peculiar motion darted deeper into the water, where a visual was even harder to come by. For a long moment the water was still save for the bobbing of their boat. The underwater cloud dispersed revealing a coiled indent in the sand. Azula took another quick picture. “Zuko.”

“It ain’t too rainy, ye just be a weakling, lad.” Zhao declared.

“Alright, you tell me what you see out there.” He pointed at an extraordinarily dense patch of fog.

A few feet ahead the water churned and seemed to split. What little light pierced through the mist, glinted off of whatever was emerging. “Zuko.” Azula repeated with a hint more urgency, but not enough concern to put the camera down. This could be her one chance to get the perfect snapshot, to provide definitive proof…

“Ah ken see a buncha trees.” Zhao replied.

“Those aren’t trees they’re large rocks.”

“They’re trees, ye arse.”

The creature began to rise, slowly and gracefully. It’s motions tantalizing Azula. She took another picture, just in case she somehow managed to miss her shot. From what she could see in the gloomy half-light, the creature was black in color with a green sheen when the light hit it just right. The texture, from what she could perceive…smooth. It could have passed for an eel if it wasn’t so massive and didn’t have such an impressive maw. “Zuko, this is important.” She spoke louder.

Zuko threw his hands into the air, “The sun could be beaming red-hot into my eye sockets, I’d still be have better luck sighting Nessie than I do right now!”

By now, Nessie was well and roused by their dispute. Her slender neck rose completely from the water. She could faintly make out what looked like a dorsal fin. The creature opened its mouth to reveal something akin to a set of shark teeth. The fog curled ominously around her long neck. With a half satisfied and half horrified expression, Azula took her magazine worthy shot.

“You’ll have a better chance of sighting her if you turn around and look!” Azula hollered at full volume.

Zhao spared her a backwards glance, “Eh…what’s the lass fussin’ aboot?”

In one final display of immaturity, Zuko looked right at the sea monster and said pointedly to Zhao, “I don’t know I can’t see it through the mist.”

And the Loch Ness Monster charged. It dove back beneath the waves and charged. Azula found herself thankful that she had come prepared for the worst. She locked her camera away in its waterproof case. “I told you I’d need it eventually.” She stated smugly. Zuko had only been complaining that it was a waste of a good hundred bucks since she purchased it. As Nessie slammed into their boat she clutched the case protectively.

“Lassie, get yer priorities taegether.” Zhao remarked.

The boat rolled again with the collision of the beast’s body. This time a decently large dent was placed put in it’s steal haul.

“Still don’t want to kill it?” Zuko asked.

“Not if we don’t have to.” Azula frowned in concentration as she fought to get the boat’s engine whirring again. Unlike herself, Zhao didn’t seem all that prepared for this endeavor. She looked at the dashboard. “You didn’t happen to bring any extra fuel did you?”

“Int it much left, but Ah goat some.” Zhao rummaged through his belongings.

“Hurry up and find it!” Zuko grimaced as Nessie landed a third strike. He took hold of his gun again and cocked it. He ignored, Azula’s word of protest and took aim. He fired a shot, where he’d last spotted the creature.

“You’re just going to make her angry.” Azula cautioned. “We won’t stand a chance then.”

“If I hit the right spot…” Zuko started.

“We’re not killing it!” Azula took hold of his arm. The girl couldn’t fathom taking such a one of a kind animal out of the world.

“It’ll kill us.”

The worst thing was that she couldn’t refute that line of reasoning. Other than pointing out that they had picked a fight in Nessie’s territory, but she very much wanted to escape with her life and her camera. Reluctantly she released her hold.

Zuko steadied his gun once more only to have his nearly perfect alignment stolen by another blow. This time the boat overturned. The option to right it once more was stolen by Nessie’s stubby but powerful tale coming down on it with a vengeance.

“Ah shite.” Zhao yelled as he found himself dipping beneath the waves.

“Shut up and swim.” Azula instructed. For her it was easier said than done with the extra weight of her camera. But she’d be dammed if she let their efforts go completely to waste. She scanned the water for a chunk of the boat or any large sea debris. Some distance down the lake she spotted a fairly large log. All she had to do was make it there.

Apparently, this was a case of every man to himself, for Zuko and Zhao were a good many strokes ahead of her. Neither paying attention to each other. With nothing else to do, and a sea monster hot on her trail, she took a deep breath and pushed herself through the water as fast as she could muster.

Which she was distressed to find, wasn’t fast at all between the camera and the bagginess of her clothing.

She gauged the distance between herself and the shoreline.

It was so far…

.oOo.

Zuko was panting like an animal by the time he reached land. His limbs were completely spent and his energy wasted. He’d put so much time into this trip and would gain nothing from it. The world was just as infested as it was before, the famous Loch Ness still has hazardous as before. He slammed his fist into the sand.

“Laddy, Ah don’t see yer sister anywhere.”

Zuko bolted upright and scanned the beach himself. “She’s here, she has to be.” He scrambled to his feet and screamed her name, only to have it echoed back it him. “Azula!” He shouted again. The world around him was terribly quiet. Even Zhao had nothing to say.

Zuko balled his hands. He had already lost their mom to the Wendigo, he couldn’t lose his sister to the supernatural as well. He just couldn’t.

But the loneliness of the beach told him otherwise.

The mist grew into a soft drizzle, taking away any chance of spotting Azula.

“Ah think we should gather a search party, aye?”

“That’s not going to do any good.” Zuko mumbled. “Not in this weather.”

This time Zhao didn’t argue. “If ye wanna stand ‘ere n wait then ye do that. Ah am gaun tae get some help.”

Zuko stared blackly at the water. A way off, he could swear that he was able to make out the silhouette of his foe. The dark shape was drawing closer and this time he didn’t have his gun. Like Azula, that seemed to be lost to the sea. Yet he held his ground—somehow, he’d avenge his sister. Even still, he could hear her making an argument against doing so.

Time crawled slowly. Nessie lazily coasted along with no sense of urgency, none the wiser to the fury she was heading towards.

He could see her more clearly now, the creature that haunted the lake for so long. She was every bit horrifying as the locals had warned. Those eyes, large and glassy, bore into him. Fully aware of the folly it was, he took a rock in his hand. Before he could throw his rudimentary weapon, Nessie bowed her head.

As if it were some mundane, every day occurrence, Azula leapt off of the beast with a semi-cheerful greeting. “See Zu-Zu, I told you that you didn’t need to shoot her. She was afraid, that’s all.” She turned back to see her new companion off, but her mount had already disappeared back into the fog. “I have the pictures too.”

“And?”

“I don’t think I will release them.”

“What?” Zuko roared. “You went through all of that trouble and you’re not going to release them?”

“I’m glad you’re okay too, Zu-Zu.” Azula waved him off. “No I won’t. Not the super clear ones anyhow. She doesn’t need more people like you going after her. If they see real proof, they’ll go after her.”

“So this trip was pointless?” Zuko asked, grateful to be having this argument with her rather than crying over her lifeless body.

“Our hunts don’t always have to have a point. Not everything has a point, sometimes things just are.” Azula shrugged. “But if it makes you feel better, no, not completely pointless. I have a few decent shots, they’re of better quality than most of shots of Nessie. I’ll sell those.”

Zuko sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter right? As long as you’re okay…and I never have to see Zhao again.”

Azula made a successful attempt to evade Zuko’s fluff and relived hugs, “I don’t know about that last thing, Zu-Zu. He told me that he’d be interested in joining our duo.”

“He what? That’s not the truth. Please tell me that, that’s not the truth.”

“I don’t know, I think it would be interesting to have him tagging along with us. I’d love to hear what he’d say if he came face to face with a…” she thought for a moment, trying to recall what was next on their list of things to investigate. “With a Stick Indian.”

Zuko for one, could do without the visual. “I supposed we should catch up to him before he gets everyone and their long dead ancestors to go looking for you.”

“I don’t know, I think I might be fine with the attention.” Azula smirked. She slung her camera case over her shoulder and followed Zuko up the beach. Her camera had seen a lot of things, but none of it came close to what it captured that morning.

#Azula #Zuko #Zhao #Avatar The Last Airbender #Fanfiction

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magzoso-tech · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/can-gopro-reinvent-itself-by-going-back-to-its-past/

Can GoPro Reinvent Itself... By Going Back to Its Past?

The action-camera company grew fast, and crashed hard. Now it’s trying to pick itself back up — by thinking a lot smaller.

November 21, 2019 15+ min read

This story appears in the December 2019 issue of Entrepreneur. Subscribe »

This past August, 40 influencers from 19 countries left their homes with camera in hand. Their mission: Film themselves from the moment they stepped out the door, onward to the airport, and en route to the remote Western Australia town of Broome. They’d charge into the ocean, do bike flips, and ride camels on the beach. And then they’d race to stitch the footage together into a montage and submit it for a contest by 11:59 p.m.

The next morning, the influencers are surprisingly bright-eyed, sitting in a conference room, waiting to learn who made the best video. “I know you guys are curious to know who got the award,” says Devon DiPietro, head of community at the action-camera company GoPro, which organized the event. “But there were so many good submissions that we’re not ready to announce it yet.”

The influencers nod. They know they’re good. So does GoPro, which is why the company spent a lot of money bringing them here. With any luck, the influencers will now help the company make a lot of money.

Related: With Girlboss, Sophia Amoruso Is Using Past Failures to Fuel Her Latest Success

This big bash in Broome is what GoPro calls its Creator Summit, and it’s the pinnacle event in an ongoing effort to fix its business. GoPro never had trouble with exposure — the brand’s name is synonymous with first-person action footage. But it’s had an on-and-off relationship with profitability. In 2014, its stock topped out at $93.85. Then the company stumbled, and it lost more than $700 million between 2016 and 2019. This year, its stock price dipped below $3.50. If you’d invested $10,000 at GoPro’s peak, you wouldn’t have enough cash to buy its flagship camera. (It goes for about $400.)

Now GoPro is going through the same process countless companies do at every stage of business: It’s rethinking exactly who its target audience is — and how to appeal to them. That’s why, over the next four days, the influencers GoPro has brought to Australia will ride boats and Jet Skis, snorkel through a flooded mangrove forest, and swim with sharks. They’ll take mud baths, buzz the coastline in floatplanes, and document a schedule of activities GoPro believes its core users thirst for. The company foots the bill and has put up an additional $10,000 in prize money to reward these influencers during an array of challenges. In return, the creators will post 566 times, generating 30 million impressions and 1.8 million social engagements.

Will that generate revenue? It just might. “You’re seeing a real turnaround in their core business,” says Andrew Uerkwitz, a senior tech analyst at Oppenheimer & Co. “They’re actually going to turn a profit this year.”

But first, the influencers need their validation. A little later this first morning, DiPietro finally announces who made the best video. “Congratulations, Nick Pescetto!” she says.

Pescetto, an Italian influencer with gorgeous sun-fried dreadlocks and a quarter-million social-media followers, steps up to accept his award. With one hand, he shakes DiPietro’s hand. With the other, he holds a GoPro, rotating it between his own grinning face and the applause of his peers.

Image Credit: @davidoc by @chrisrogers

“Everybody likes to see the champ fall from grace,” says GoPro founder and CEO Nick Woodman. “It’s ‘We love you! We love you!’ And then you slip up and they’re on you with daggers, stabbing you to death.”

If it’s not immediately clear, GoPro is the Julius in this allegory. Before the brand’s assassination, it was widely held up as a shining example of entrepreneurial glory.

The origin story is well-told. In 2002, during a five-month surfing trip through Australia and Indonesia, Woodman, then 26, began fidgeting with a strap that would allow him to rig a waterproof camera to his wrist. If he could document his time in the barrel — what surfers call the inside of a wave — it might help him go pro. (Get it?) So he raised some money from his parents, put in $30,000 of his own savings, created a 35-millimeter camera with a strap on it, and sold his first unit in 2004 for $19.99.

A natural salesman, Woodman drove up and down the coast, pitching his camera to surf and skate shops. They understood the appeal. “Before GoPro, unless you had a photographer following you around, nobody had footage of themselves doing anything active,” says Woodman. “It was always the before and after photos in the parking lot.” Growth was steady, thanks to trade shows and athletes using the cameras, but the real pop came in 2006 when GoPro launched its first digital camera. Sales topped $800,000. As the cameras improved in functionality, so did profits. In late 2009, it sold a camera called the HD Hero that brought in $64 million over the course of 2010.

The following year, GoPro raised $88 million in venture funding and was valued at $400 million. When it went public in 2014, it had 25,000 specialty retail accounts. “Those were the good days,” says Todd Ballard, GoPro’s chief marketing officer. “It felt like everything we touched turned to gold.”

In truth, it was a lot of fool’s gold.

In the company’s IPO documents, GoPro acknowledged that virtually all of its revenue came from selling cameras and accessories — but instead of calling itself a consumer electronics company, it claimed that it could become an “exciting new media company.” It had secured Xbox and Virgin America as distribution partners, and it was working on original content that it hoped to monetize with advertising, sponsorships, and increased camera sales.

“People were like, ‘Damn! That’s a great idea!’ ” says Uerkwitz. It got GoPro a lot of attention. GoPro declines to reveal specifics on how much it spent on its media division, but “it was a pretty big spend,” says Woodman. “We had a very large team of filmers and editors,” including sports, lifestyle, and reality-style scripted divisions. The year before the company went public, GoPro’s operating expenses were $263 million. In 2016, it spent $835 million — three times as much. But no serious content was released with any regularity. The project flopped.

Meanwhile, as part of a growth promise to investors, GoPro launched entry-level cameras designed to steal market share from point-and-shoots and DSLRs. “We started getting greedy as an organization,” says Ballard. “It drove us to think, How do we get soccer moms to buy our cameras? How do we get everybody to buy our cameras?”

Related: How This Ex-Con Started From Nothing to Build a 7-Figure Business

That’s not to say this is an inherently bad strategy. Companies need to grow, which can mean expanding their audience. In books and podcasts, LinkedIn cofounder Reid Hoffman advises founders to ignore the needs of their early, core customers in favor of appealing to their future “scale customers.” And when the extreme racing company Tough Mudder looked to expand its offerings, appealing beyond its hard-core base to attract everyday athletes, it approached the project carefully — but determinedly. “What I didn’t want to be seen doing was somehow diluting the brand,” says Tough Mudder cofounder and former CEO Will Dean. So he acted slowly, introducing new, easier races at the same time he introduced harder, more extreme races. For inspiration, Dean turned to a Harvard Business Review case study on Porsche, which went through this same issue. In 2003, Porsche launched the midpriced Cayenne SUV to attract its own soccer moms, and some high-end drivers got grumpy. Porsche had to convince its core fans that the brand would still deliver on their expectations of exclusivity — which it did in part by taking some of its earnings from the SUV and investing it in making new, expensive sports cars.

But GoPro wasn’t as delicate. Scroll back far enough in the company’s Instagram feed and you’ll find evidence of how it approached its mass-market effort — through photos of sunsets, sleeping cats, and babies eating cookies. None of this attracted the soccer moms, but it did push GoPro’s core user away. Even Woodman lost interest. “I stopped paying attention to our own Instagram feed and YouTube channel,” he says. “I thought they were lame. If you’re a 22-year-old who’s really getting after it and you’re seeing this type of marketing, you’re like, Is this my brand?”

In 2016, GoPro released a $1,099 drone called the Karma, but it was bedeviled by reports of battery problems and crashes. It seemed like a metaphor.

Image Credit: @geoffgulevich of @dberrecloth

The GoPro decline came fast. It laid off 450 people in 2016. Rumors swirled that the founder and CEO was unable to carry his company. “There was a period where it really bothered me,” he says about the headlines. “It was like, Can you guys get off it now?”

But GoPro had a reason for hope. Even as it bled cash, it still owned the action-camera market. Since going public, the company has sold at least 4.3 million cameras annually. No other company has come close. “Sony tried and failed, Garmin tried and failed, Xiaomi tried and failed — and those three companies are all much larger than GoPro,” says Uerkwitz. (Today, GoPro captures roughly 95 of every 100 dollars spent on action cameras in the U.S.)

So it kept developing cameras. In the spring of 2018, it was preparing to launch a new one called the Hero7 Black. This camera would improve upon previous editions with a seemingly magic feature that turns shaky camera footage — the kind you get by mounting a camera to a surfboard or a helmet — into a buttery-smooth motion picture. It was an impressive technological leap, but when Woodman reviewed the proposed marketing, he hated it. “It was super safe and boring,” he says.

Chasing the mass market was threatening GoPro’s identity. It had been ignoring its core customers in favor of what LinkedIn’s Hoffman would call “scale customers” — but what if its extreme sports users actually were its scale customers? That’s when Woodman had an epiphany. “Nick was like: ‘Dude, we’re not doing this anymore,’ ” says Ballard. “ ‘We need to go back to what we stand for.’ ” The company wouldn’t be about appealing to broad audiences or making so much of its own content. It would be about enabling the most adventurous people on the planet to capture — and share! — their own accomplishments. It would double down on them.

Back in 2015, GoPro had launched an awards program that encouraged users to submit videos and photos for a chance to earn up to $5,000. GoPro then used the best stuff in its marketing and social media. The strategy was more cost-effective than paying an in-house media team to capture footage all over the world. But more important, it created a community of travelers, producers, and athletes who began to see GoPro as another way to make money doing what they love. Since its launch, the awards program had paid out roughly $3 million, and now supplies roughly 70 percent of GoPro posts on social media.

Related: How This Family Rebuilt Their Business After Devastating Losses

The users who submit to the awards program make up what Woodman calls the “tip-of-spear” consumers — the people going into surf and skate shops 10 years ago. These were the people Woodman wanted to reengage. So he told his staff to rethink the creative launch of the Hero7, as well as everything that came after it. “That was a pivotal time,” says Ballard. “We needed to hear that from him.”

Prior to this revelation, GoPro’s most recent camera was launched with a nearly five-minute marketing video opening on a couple running hand-in-hand through a park. The camera’s technology was not discussed.

By contrast, under Woodman’s new (but old!) direction, the fall 2018 launch of the Hero7 featured fast music and quick cuts. Users received a full technology rundown in two minutes: stabilization, voice-command features, the ability to speed up and slow down footage. You see a rocket blasting away from Earth and motorbikes hitting dirt jumps while graphics like “HDR” and “1080p240” flash across the screen.

The marketing campaign was coupled with GoPro’s biggest award incentive yet — a million-dollar challenge that produced one superhot sizzle reel shot entirely on the Hero7. From 25,000 customer submissions, GoPro chose 56 award recipients, and the average payout was just under $18,000.

During its first week on sale, the Hero7 became the fastest-selling GoPro ever. In the first half of 2019, the company earned 2.2 million new social media followers, a 41 percent increase compared with the first half of 2018. In June, GoPro’s YouTube channel set a single-month record with 46 million unique views.

Woodman was right. Now it was time to dig in deeper. The company invested more heavily in an insights-and-analytics team — which, unlike before, could now explore the needs of its narrowly focused users. GoPro was going to learn exactly what they wanted. And then it would do whatever it could to please them…including taking 40 of them to Australia.

Image Credit: @fredfalco

The Australia trip is an influencer’s dream — the camera equipment, the beach, two pools, a yoga studio. Between the on-camera explorations, GoPro hosts breakout sessions on Photoshop, video editing, and personal branding. And then, on the last day of the summit, the group is brought together inside a coffee shop, in front of a deli case with a crocodile’s head inside. For the first time in days, they’re told to turn off their cameras. In advance of this moment, they’ve all signed NDAs.

This is GoPro’s big payoff for the trip. It’s about to reveal two new cameras: the next-level Hero8 Black and the 360-degree Max.

“The Hero8 is a nod to everyone here,” says Jeremy Hendricks, a GoPro senior product marketing manager. “It’s a nod to the pros.”

At first, the new camera looks just like the old one. It’s a black box. But then Hendricks unfolds a pair of concealed tabs, which extend from the bottom of the camera like stumpy legs.

Related: How to Maintain a Professional Relationship After a Business Partnership Falls Through

The influencers immediately understand. With previous GoPros, in order to clip the camera to a helmet mount or extendable selfie stick, users had to first snap it into a finicky plastic frame, which had tabs on the bottom. But now, with the Hero8 update, these tabs will be built directly into the camera — there when you need them, hidden when you don’t. “You guys!” says Hendricks. “No more frames!”

Hendricks is confident in his delivery, because those flip-out tabs solve for a pain point specifically identified by GoPro’s insights and analytics teams. The influencers erupt.

“Folding fingers!” says Tim Humphreys, a pro snowboarder. “Keep talking dirty to us!”

GoPro sure will, because when people like Humphreys love GoPro, more seem to follow. After three years of losses, the company is expecting 6 to 9 percent growth in 2019. But it still has a lot of work to do. Core users are once again sweet on the brand, but investors are still sour. After a second-quarter earnings call during which the company reported international growth, margin growth, and a million new social media followers, GoPro’s stock price actually dropped.

“You have to remember that there were multiple years of mis-execution, and investors got burned,” says Nikolay Todorov, an analyst at Longbow Research. “These guys have done quite a good job at stabilizing the ship. But it’s going to take some time for investor sentiment to shift.”

The stock recovered, but then in October it dropped again — this time 20 percent — when GoPro reported a late-stage production delay on the Hero8. The camera was originally slated to launch in the third quarter but instead was bumped to the fourth. That’s crippling for a company that pins almost all its success to one flagship product — and indicates that despite all the lessons GoPro has learned in the past few years, it’s still got work to do.

What investors want in a consumer electronics company, according to Uerkwitz, is a deeper bench. Garmin, Apple, Logitech: They all have diverse product portfolios. But GoPro’s previous efforts to diversify crash-landed (sometimes literally). So what the company needs to do is hold the line, hit its targets, and wait for investors to come around.

Woodman understands this. “We’ve got to deliver consistent profitability and growth,” he says. GoPro has more than three years of product launches mapped out, and its immediate goal is to simply continue blowing the minds of its core users. Then, who knows? “If we identify a big enough market opportunity, absolutely we’ll go and build additional hardware,” says Woodman. He takes a pause. “But you’ve got to be really careful that you don’t spread yourself too thin.”

So for now, GoPro just wants to geek out. Back in Australia, Hendricks walks the influencers through a suite of modular accessories that will snap onto the Hero8 to provide lighting, a shotgun microphone, and a rotating screen that allows vloggers to see themselves talking into the camera. He shows off its new stabilization capabilities, HDR upgrades, and functionality that allows users to speed up and slow down footage on the fly. The influencers ask questions and speculate about the creative ways they’ll deploy the new features. And when the presentation is done, they exit the coffee shop and walk right onto the hovercraft — a literal hovercraft — waiting for them outside.

They turn their cameras back on. Everyone has work to do.

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joneswilliam72 · 6 years

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Meet actor Charlie Cox, Matt Murdock/Daredevil in Netflix's Daredevil and Basil in the new based on a true story heist film King of Thieves.

I caught up with actor Charlie Cox – Matt Murdock, Daredevil himself in Netflix's adaptation – for a chat on acting, film, Daredevil, influences and what it was like to work with heavyweights like Michael Caine, Michael Gambon and Tom Courtenay in his latest, King of Thieves, based on a very real (and very historic) British heist. Catch King of Thieves out now On Demand and Digital HD.

Cox plays Basil, the younger outsider to a crew of retired British thieves (also including Ray Winstone and Jim Broadbent). Basil brings them in to the biggest heist they've ever faced, and the film chronicles what ensues and how – as in many heist movies – greed takes over with disastrous consequences.

The real robbery the film is based upon is interesting in and of itself being considered "the largest burglary in English legal history". In 2015, an elderly gang of thieves staged a robbery of safe deposit boxes in London's Hatton Garden jewelry district. Their loot had been able to get back totaled around 13.69 million pounds, yet they ultimately settled for a paltry 3.6 million pounds for their score. At least, that is what was returned to victims via the British courts after the gang was caught.

King of Thieves, in fact, delayed the trial for the alleged real Basil, Michael Seed. In September 2018, Seed's barrister asked for more time to prepare his client's defense because, "The court has little or no power to deal with it [the film], and little locus to obtain an injunction." The judge agreed. As of this writing, Seed's trial is still on-going having started 5 February 2019.

Those sentenced for the robbery John "Kenny" Collins, Daniel Jones, Terry Perkins (top row, left to right) and Carl Wood, William Lincoln and Hugh Doyle (bottom row, left to right)source:bbc.com

Catch King of Thieves now and enjoy our interview with Charlie Cox below.

Hello Charlie.

Hey Wess, how's it going?

Oh just great, how are you?

Very good, thank you.

Fantastic. Getting right into it, what was it that initially attracted you to the Basil role? I found the twist on his name at the end of movie really clever, too.

What's interesting is, we didn't know that when we were filming. That was something that came to light after we shot the movie.

Oh really?

When we were filming the movie, the information that we had was that Basil was potentially called "Basil" because he was slightly posher than the rest of the guys. His accent is slightly more posh and there's a very famous cartoon character in the UK, well puppet actually, called Basil Brush. He's a posh fox on television in the UK, and so the thinking was they called him Basil because he was like Basil Brush, because he spoke like him. That part's in the movie, but it wasn't until after the movie that someone read, or someone discovered, that possibly he was called Basil because of that play on the word.

Interesting.

In terms of what attracted me to the role was this is one of those ones where I kind of am amazed that I got the job, you know what I mean? Working with that group of actors obviously is a dream come true for anyone, but particularly for a young, British actor. Those guys all were my heroes growing up. To work with any one of them on one job would be amazing, so working with all of them on the same job, it's kind of like as good as it gets.

Absolutely, and honestly Charlie I think if you stay on the trajectory that you're at, you'll be at their level someday.

Oh, wow man, that's so cool! Thank you! That's funny to think about. That's funny to hear someone say that because of course it's impossible to imagine that you'd ever reach those kind of hopes of 'icon-ness' or whatever you call it. The fact that you're saying that is very encouraging.

Oh and I mean it too. I definitely think you'll get there. Now what did the process look like for getting into that head space of the thief, of Basil?

It was such a fun challenge because when I got the job, I got it very late on in the process. In fact, I literally got a phone call on a Friday and I was rehearing on Monday, so it was a very last minute decision I think. They were struggling with that character and I think a couple of people had maybe fallen through, or I don't know exactly what went on. It was a very pleasant surprise, but it did leave me very little time to kind of really investigate the character.

The challenge that I felt I was faced with, of course Basil is the one character that got away, the one no one really knows anything about. So we had to invent a lot about him, whereas the other characters, they're a known entity.

The thing that was confusing to me... We knew that Basil was younger, we knew that he was the guy that did the computers and shut down the alarm system, we kind of knew bits and bobs. What we didn't know was why, if he was younger, and he was the one with the key that got them in the building in the first place, that kind of was the catalyst, he got Michael Caine's character interested. What I couldn't figure out was why didn't he have any friends of his own age that were more physically capable of doing the hard work. What was it about him that felt like he needed to go to a bunch of geriatrics to pull off one of the biggest heists in history?

Really what I thought was an important element for that character was someone who was very socially awkward and maybe doesn't have mates of his own age. Maybe there's something kind of untrustworthy about him, something that doesn't seem quite right. At the beginning of the film Brian Reader [Michael Caine] had just lost his wife and he felt lonely, and Basil by his nature is quite lonely, so they kind of take each other hostage for a period of time. That was the way I ended up explaining it.

It almost makes me wonder, too, with that if he didn't know at some level that they were going to get caught and he was comfortable with the geriatrics taking the fall or what have you. But just hypothesizing.

(L-R) Charlie Cox as Basil and Michael Caine as Brian Reader in the thriller “KING OF THIEVES” a Saban Films release. Photo courtesy of Saban Films.

Any funny or memorable moments from the process of filming that stick out in your mind?

So many... It's not one particular memory, but normally on a film set in between scenes, sometimes it can be quite a long time between camera set ups. Normally people kind of go back to their trailer and they relax or they do whatever they want to do. But because the majority of the cast were slightly older, they didn't always want to go back to their trailers, it was too far sometimes, so we would all sit together in chairs, just around the corner from the set. And what was nice about that is you end up doing a lot of socializing, a lot of chatting, a lot of stories being told. So I got to hear some amazing anecdotes from all these legends and their illustrious careers and the lives they've had. That was just a memory that I'll never, ever forget.

Very cool. That'd be something in itself.

(L-R) Tom Courtenay as John Kenny Collins and Michael Caine as Brian Reader in the thriller “KING OF THIEVES” a Saban Films release. Photo courtesy of Saban Films.

We kind of touched on this, but what were the challenges like and was there anything else that you wanted to add in there with that?

Filming with those guys in London, particularly Michael, can be challenging because of how well known he is and the fans and people who recognize him in the street. We shot lots of scenes in the streets that were almost impossible to completely block off. And then when people walked past Michael Caine they had a look of amazement on their face and you can't put that in the movie. He has to be someone just walking down the street, so that's a challenge.

Wow yeah. I bet.

Other than that, I just thought the whole thing was just so tremendous. To this day I can't believe that I had that experience. I think it will always be one of the great, great highlights of my life.

Absolutely. Being based on a true story, too, it's just tremendous.

I would be remiss if I didn't ask about Daredevil when I had you here, too. It sucks that it's over. That was really an exceptional show and it was very gritty. I loved that.

Thank you.

I heard you didn't know the character was blind until the day before the audition. That leads me to ask, what was it like getting into that Matt Murdock, Daredevil head space and developing the character over three seasons like you did?

Again it was a really wonderful, challenging experience. I'm lucky with that particular job that I had a couple of months notice, so I could really come about... That job was hard because there were so many elements for my character that I had to kind of learn about and discover and investigate. For example, obviously the fact that he's visually impaired. What does that mean? What does that look like? How do you act that? What do your eyes do? I spend a lot of time working with a blind coach-

Fascinating.

Then the things that are related to the blindness apart from the eyes themselves. How do you use a cane? How do you find things on the table if you're looking for something? How do you read Braille? How do you use a computer? How do you use an iPhone? How do you do all those things? You have to learn all of that stuff.

Plus it was the first time I'd done an American accent, so I was working very hard to get the accent right.

Oh, you did.

[Laughs] Thank you. Then don't forget there was all the martial art stuff and a lot of weight to gain because I was much, much lighter when I got the job, I think I was about 162 pounds. By the time we started shooting I was 180 pounds. I put on a lot of muscle very, very quickly and that takes up a lot of time.

Whenever I got a second I was reading comic books, reading as many Daredevil comic books that I could get my hands on. In that job particularly it felt like there was a lot of work to do. But I loved it, I love all that. That's actually, in some way, the best part of the job is studying to kind of learn and delve in to the whole area of culture that you've never experienced before.

Oh absolutely.

Charlie Cox as Matt Murdock, DAREDEVIL's alter ego.

Switching gears just a little bit, a question I ask everybody, what films and performances have been most influential on you as an artist and an actor? Big question I know.

Yeah, it's a big question. Obviously Brando is a go-to, Hopkins – would be the actors that I've obviously grown up with and admire. His work is so influential. Gene Hackman is one of my favorites. There's some younger guys, I think Ryan Gosling is exceptional. I think that one of my favorite actors is Oscar Isaac, I think he's amazing.

He was great in Annihilation.

In terms of specific performances, Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind I think is one of my all-time favorites. I love the Coen Brothers and I think that everyone in almost all of the Coen Brothers’ movies, all of the performances are impeccable. I love the tone of a lot of those movies.

Me too.

Clooney in Michael Clayton and Tom... Williams... am I thinking of the right... in the same film, in Michael Clayton. Is it Tom Williams?

I'm trying to remember the name there... it's something like that...

I'm blanking on the name... it's something like that. What else... that might be it. That might be all I've got on me.

Well, like I said, it's a big question, too-

Tom Wilkinson! Tom Wilkinson!

Yeah, Wilkinson! I should've known that…

Tom Wilkinson is the guy in Michael Clayton.

Oh absolutely. I couldn't think of that either until you said it and it's like, yeah, I knew that.

(L-R) Jim Broadbent as Terry Perkins, Ray Winstone as Danny Jones and Charlie Cox as Basil in the thriller “KING OF THIEVES” a Saban Films release. Photo courtesy of Saban Films.

One other question I like to ask everybody, what makes a great film?

I think the honest answer to that is there is no formula. I think that if there was a formula, then you wouldn't get movies that were supposed to be fantastic that aren't. And you wouldn't get movies that were made for almost no money with an unknown director and an unknown cast, that are sensational. There's no way of knowing what is... There's so many elements that need to come together when you make a film, or a TV show for that matter.

There are so many things that have to be exactly right for that movie, including the acting, including the script, including the sound design, including the set, including the editing. There's so many elements and even sometimes if just one of those things isn't quite right, a movie doesn't quite work. When they all do come together, you get a great movie. Not a good movie, a great movie. That's a very special thing. Like I said, I think that if there was a formula then you could just churn out hit, after hit, after hit, and of course we know that that doesn't happen.

I couldn't agree more. I've had more than a few answer with, it's a form of "alchemy" when I ask that question.

Our last question, what's next for you Charlie?

I'm going to be doing a play in London. A stage play in the West End in London, of a Harold Pinter play called “Betrayal”, so that runs from the beginning of March to the beginning of June of this year, so that's what I'm gearing up for right now.