#the zombie au I made might be worth sharing

[currentlyreadingawesomefanfics]

Old art and some new! New chapters of Somnolent should be out in a week or so since school is ending soon! I've been burnt out from writing so much.

[luveline]

JADE THE EDDIE ZOMBIE AU WITH SHY!READER IS EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE WISHED FOR! could I request eddie cuddling the reader for the first time? maybe shy!reader gets an infection from her injuries or gets sick and he has to cuddle her to keep her warm??

thank u! eddie zombie au —you and eddie get to know one another and share a shy cuddle. fem!reader, 1.4k

tw throwing up/ vomit mention 

You're in the kind of pain that makes you nauseous whenever you move, and medication isn't making it better. Eddie —your saviour, and your new friend— keeps you doped up generously, but you're terrified to take the strong stuff and he's not eager to give you anything too sedative anyhow. 

"I don't want you to think I'm being selfish," he says, laying on the floor next to the dusty couch that makes for your sick bed, "but I don't know what dose is right, especially when you've had half a bottle of Tylenol in two days. And you had that rum. I should not have let you drink that." 

The rum numbed the pain quickly, but mixing alcohol and painkillers is a terrible idea. You'd been in agony and couldn't have cared less at the time, meanwhile Eddie's adrenaline wore off and he confiscated the bottle. Two hazy days later and you're not feeling any better than you had. It's concerning.

"I think I feel sick," you confess. 

Eddie sits up. When he looks at you, it's with all the care and concern of someone who's known you for years rather than days. "How sick?" 

"Just… sick." 

He holds up his hand carefully. "Can I?" he asks. You nod, and he presses his knuckles to your forehead, moving it an inch lower as he feels for your temperature. 

Eddie frowns. "Alright, not great." 

He eases your shirt up your hip. You're shy, sure, but his touch feels disarmingly intimate, his fingertips barely touching you as he peels the medical tape away from your gauze. He's already changed it twice. Your wound is messy even with his frankly impressive stitching. 

How come you're so good at them? you'd asked him. 

Well, I– I played this game with my friends and we made costumes, sometimes. Guess it came in handy. You know, it's funny, I had to give myself a couple of stitches a while back and it was Shelley-esque. 

Maybe 'cos you couldn't feel them… How are we going to take them out? you'd asked. 

His easy smile abated. Um. Well, we'll figure that out.

Eddie peels the gauze from your hip. "Don't look." 

"What?" you ask, looking down. 

Eddie puts his hand in front of your face. "Don't look, I don't want you to panic again." 

"Is it worth panicking over?" you ask. 

"I don't think it is, but if you see it you'll panic because it's your cut. I think I'm gonna wash it again, okay? Does that sound cool?" 

"I can do it," you say. 

"You don't do it, that would require looking at it."

"I can't look at it," you insist. 

Eddie does the strangest thing, a short line stroke against the uninjured skin beside your wound. He's trying to comfort you, you realise. 

This is why you wouldn't mind being friends with him. If he was going to murder you, he probably wouldn't have bothered saving your life, and he's been really friendly, even when you puked up your dinner yesterday and he had to help you change, too weak from blood loss to do it yourself. He made you more dinner afterwards, too, heating up a can of something on a camping butane fire. 

He's a nice person, you think. A good person.

Eddie washes your wound with water warmed and then left to cool over the camping fire. He pats it dry with a cotton pad, shushing you sympathetically when you whimper. "I have an antiseptic," he says gently, "a real one, not just the rum. We'll put some of that on and let it breathe, yeah?" 

"Whatever you think you should should," you say. 

"Okay. Sit tight. It might hurt again." 

The antiseptic is cold, and it stings for a few seconds where the warm water hadn't. When he's done, Eddie wipes his hands clean and folds your shirt up to keep the cut unmarred. 

You relax, Eddie diligent at your side. He unveils a pack of goldfish snacks he'd been saving for a special occasion and won't listen to you when you refuse them, opening them and pouring a splash of them onto your chest. "They're birthday cake flavour," he says. 

"Don't give me your nice food," you say. 

"Why not? I'm happy to do it. Just eat them. Unless you don't like them? I'm eighty percent sure I have twinkie, and there's a tiny Hershey's bar. Do you like chocolate?”

You eat some of his snacks and reject everything else he offers you. You only get up to use the bathroom (a bucket you'd rather not talk about). Eddie brings you some more warm water and a cloth when the sun sets to wash and sits in the kitchen of the pizzeria to offer you some privacy. 

The staff room feels scary without him. You've known him for not even three days, and already you're worried he's going to run off without you. Considering you'd probably die if he left you now, it's a typical reaction, but he's being so nice. You'd been fucking tired of dragging yourself from one place to another; having someone else waiting on you is a miracle. 

A reprieve. 

"Eddie?" you call. 

"You okay?" 

"You can come back. I'm done." 

"Awesome," he says, quick to turn the corner. He checks that his wagon and bike are still connected before rolling them to the back of the room. With everything done for tonight, he secures the room, hooking a chair under the door handle, and pushing a half filled water tank in front of it. 

"Need anything else?" he asks, crouching in front of you. 

"No," you say gratefully.

"Okay." He sits down on the floor, laying back, your bodies in line and apart. "Tell me if you do." 

You puked on his blanket, too, and he hadn't been able to wash it. He took all the gross stuff, your ruined clothes, blood and vomit covered, and chucked it outside far from the building.

"I'm really sorry about… making such a mess," you say, turning as onto your side as you can manage. 

"Don't be sorry, you couldn't help it." 

"Did you–" You lick your lips quickly. “There's room up here. Not a lot, I know, but you don't have to sleep on the floor. It's getting cold." 

"I don't wanna squish you," he says. 

"I can handle some squishing. You've done so much for me, I don't like that you're on the ground." You clear your throat. "If you want to. I don't mind," you mumble. 

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

"It's okay," you say, shifting as far into the back of the couch as you can. It's nice and wide but he'll have to lay on his side to fit. "It might be nice. It really is cold." 

As soon as you've said it, your skin flushes with heat. Embarrassment has you staring resolutely at the wall, more eager than you want to be as Eddie sits on the couch and eases onto his side, legs straight, arms tucked in. It's never going to be comfortable. 

"You can touch me," you say. "It's fine."

Beyond his grazing fingers, you haven't been touched with anything akin to kindness since before the apocalypse began. You want it badly, so badly that his arm pressed over your waist makes you cringe at first. 

"Kinda awkward," he says. 

"I don't remember the last time…" 

You turn your head toward his but close your eyes. Eddie sighs, his body heat already seeping into your side where he's cuddling into you. His arm relaxes over your front, and you relax in turn beneath him. 

"Me neither," he murmurs. "Don't let me hurt you, okay? Push me off if I get too close to your hip." 

You agree. Things are strange for a while, the nerves of being close to him strangling any pleasure, but eventually Eddie falls asleep, his face falling into the slope of your shoulder, and you wrap your arm around his waist to keep him from falling on the ground in his sleep, and the strangeness melds to bone-deep relief. 

It's very, very nice to be held by someone. 

Eddie's curls tickle your face. He snores in his sleep. You try your best to ignore it. 

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Dancing 'til the break of dawn - Pt2

<Pt1

(TWST zombie apocalypse au for all your crack-fic needs)

As a kind of ‘sorry for almost stabbing you, please do not sic your zombie cat on me’ gesture, Ace gripped Yuu’s hand and dragged him into the back of the convenience store so they could share a nice little meal together.

Well… it would be nice, if Yuu wasn’t approximately 99% sure that Ace was a cannibal. After all, he hadn’t had any supplies on him that would have been worth stealing, much less killing over, that was why he had come into the convenience store in the first place. And it wasn’t like the store had been openly claimed in any of the traditional ways, with a blackened zombie corpse out front or a big bar over the window and a handwritten sign telling people to stay out ‘or else’. 

And Grim had accepted Ace’s mystery meat. Yuu had lived with the zombie for quite a while, now, so he knew for a fact that Grim was very particular about his diet. Much to his chagrin, might he add. It was a little gross to watch his cat feast on the corpses of what had once been humans. He only spared so much of his innocence by turning his face away whenever the zombie needed to eat.

All of this to say: Yuu did not like the look of the bowlful of mystery meat he was offered. Especially since it wasn’t really all that much of a mystery.

He took it gingerly, but was reluctant to actually eat any. He tossed some to Grim when Ace turned away to prepare himself a bowl, and winced when Grim snapped it up without the slightest trace of hesitation.

Well, that confirms that theory.

Ace settled down a few feet away and started digging in. Without even cringing. Maybe it was good?

Yuu poked at the meat with his chopsticks, frowning a little. When cooked it, frankly, didn’t look that different from any other meat. Though it looked bland. Did Ace not know what spices are? Yuu was pretty sure he had seen a few spice jars scattered around the shop, couldn’t he have spared at least a couple?

Beyond that, though, he was… less than eager to learn if everything really does just taste like chicken.

Would it be rude to refuse, though? Ace had cooked it for him…

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, uh, why didn’t you just… eat the food that was here?”

Ace didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, so Yuu motioned to the aisles upon aisles of food that he was using as bait.

Ace seemed to buffer for an entire minute.

“Well… it’s not sustainable. I mean, we’re going to be stuck like this until… who knows how long. I don’t know how to tend to plants or – anything.”

Yuu gave him a flat look. “Y’know, I’d believe that if it wasn’t very clear that you’re making this up on the spot.”

Ace scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, what do you know? You befriended a fucking zombie.”

“It was really dark, okay?!”

Grim glowered at Ace. And then snapped at his knee.

“Get your fucking cat!” Ace screeched.

Yuu sighed. “Grim, just because you don’t like someone doesn’t mean you can kill them. We’ve been over this.”

Grim, for lack of a better word, sulked at the reminder.

Ace, however, looked horrified. “... how many times has Grim killed someone you made ‘friends’ with?”

“I try not to think about it,” Yuu admitted.

Ace looked like he wanted to die… well, actually, like he very much did not want to die. “Well, you – you scold him afterward, right?”

“Of course!”

“You’d scold him if he killed me, then?” Ace sounded a little bit desperate. He looked at the zombie. “You hear that? You’ll get told off if you kill me!”

Grim looked like he was very much ready to take that risk.

“You – you have to start doing more,” said Ace. “Like, at least say you won’t talk to him anymore if he kills me.”

Yuu frowned. That seemed a little bit extreme. Grim was his special little guy. He couldn’t just stop talking to him.

Ace would claim until the end of time that he did not whimper. That the sound he made was actually very cool and manly. Ace is a liar.

Yuu, however, is not. Which is why he never agreed to abandon his beloved cat.

His beloved cat was, technically, a murderer, but we all have our flaws. Yuu didn’t care that much. Though… he seemed to be an exception – people always stressed when Grim’s kill count was brought up, it was so annoying. And hypocritical, in Ace’s case, seeing as he was a serial killer/cannibal.

Yuu didn’t need to deal with this.

“I’m going to grab some spices,” he decided, pushing himself to his feet. “If I’m going to be eating this, it needs to actually taste good.”

Ace yelped and jumped up as well, almost running to latch onto Yuu’s arm, squinting at Grim with open suspicion. “Here, I know where they are, let me take you there!”

Grim narrowed his eye right back at him. But, upon receiving a warning look from Yuu, settled down on his front paws and glared at nothing.

So, with little additional fanfare, Yuu and Ace grabbed a few spices from the shelves, and Yuu worked at making a spice combination that would go with something he had never tried before and didn’t even really want to eat now.

He managed to make something that tasted… fine. On its own, at least. He had no clue how well it would work with human flesh.

So, Ace was to be his test subject.

(Should he trust Ace as a test subject? He was already eating people, his taste buds might not have been all that normal… whatever. Yuu was having a day. He was officially tired of parsing out things like logic and morality.)

He spiced up the meat and then gave it to Ace to try.

Ace glanced at him, slightly wary. But he had watched Yuu grab all of the spices, so it wasn’t like he could have poisoned it. The worst it could be was gross. He took a careful bite.

He almost dropped his bowl.

He looked at Yuu with stars in his eyes.

“Never leave me,” Ace said.

Yuu’s eyebrows raised just slightly. “Not scared of Grim anymore?”

“It’s worth it. I can’t cook for shit. I’ve been dying here.”

Yuu snickered into his hand.

Grim narrowed his eye at Ace. Ace – who was definitely a little more concerned about the zombie cat than he had originally tried to claim – hesitated, before scooping a little bit of the meat out onto the floor for him.

The zombie sniffed the peace offering for a moment before eating it.

Grim was enlightened.

Yuu realized, dully, that this was probably the first time the zombie had ever had seasoned food. He felt… strangely guilty about this.

He rubbed the zombie’s head, scratching behind his cat’s ear in just the way he liked it. Grim purred and, apparently, decided that Ace could live for another day, so long as Yuu continued to love on him for the rest of the night.

“I guess the food was a hit,” Yuu joked lightly.

“It’s really good,” Ace said, nudging the bowl towards him to try.

He picked it up gingerly and blew on the… ‘food’.

… in the end, Yuu only managed a few bites before he had to stop. It tasted fine, but he couldn’t get over what it actually was. He resolved himself to make a run to the store sometime within the next week or two for something he could eat without feeling physically ill – or mentally ill, for that matter.

(He wanted to use what they already had in the store, but Ace insisted that his bait was not to be disturbed. Remind him why he had chosen to be friends with Ace, again?)

~

Yuu stubbed his toe on a can of beans of all things. Ace had taken to trying to drive him away with petty inconveniences, since anything too openly hostile would end in him getting killed. It was kind of funny, when it wasn't happening to you.

He punched a shelf out of frustration.

Great. Now his hand, hurt, too.

"Sh-ugar," Yuu hissed.

Ace snorted. "You can swear, man, it's the apocalypse. I do it all the time. Watch: fuckshitbitchdamnhellIcan'tthinkofanymoreshitshitshit! See? No one to get onto my case about it."

Yuu scowled. "Nope. I'm perfect and virtuous and -."

"Your best friend is a zombie."

He threw up his hands in frustration. "You befriend one zombie and suddenly all of the good things you've ever done are null and void!"

Ace raised an eyebrow.

Yuu scowled. How was he supposed to have known that helping out a random stray would end the world as he knew it? Grim was the very first zombie, it would have been weirder to assume that there was something wrong, in his opinion!

"I'm never doing anything nice ever again," Yuu decided.

"You've done nice things before?"

"Shut up and go cut up that body at the front of the store so I can start making dinner."

"Very nice of you," Ace teased.

"It is," Yuu said flatly. "I don't have to feed you, you know."

Ace, to his surprise, didn't back off. Instead, he grinned widely. He clapped Yuu on the shoulder. "You're already getting the hang of it! I'll corrupt you in no time."

Yuu fought the urge to curse, if only because he didn't want to further prove Ace's point.

After all, he hated Ace and didn't find him at all funny. Ignore the little smile that threatened to tug at his lips the moment Ace was safely out of sight. Yuu was certainly ignoring it.

~

Yuu squinted at the veritable forest that had grown in the garden section of the old, abandoned grocery store.

Man, things go to the dogs fast in the apocalypse.

Or should he say they went to the cats? Since it was a cat that had started this all?

He looked down at Grim. The zombie had been clinging to his side even more than usual. Yuu wasn’t sure if it was because the almost-murder had spooked the cat, or if him becoming kinda-friends with his almost-murderer had made the cat decide that Yuu absolutely could not at any cost be left alone ever again, or if Grim was jealous that he no longer had Yuu’s undivided attention anymore, or if the zombie just really liked the texture of Yuu’s new baggy sweatpants and would take any opportunity to rub up against them. Really, all of those options were equally likely.

And, though Yuu was definitely the one with all the power in this scenario, he wanted his darling subordinate’s opinion:

“Do you approve of this?” he said, smiling wryly as he motioned to the mess of plants.

Grim squinted suspiciously at the plants, as if he was half-convinced there would be another Ace hidden in the shadows.

He didn’t seem to see anything, for he didn’t start growling or puffing up like he did when he was trying to be menacing, so Yuu took a cautious step forward.

Grim sunk his teeth into the fabric of his pant leg.

Yuu’s life flashed before his eyes. The zombie’s teeth didn’t touch his skin, but they could have if he had moved even the slightest bit unpredictably, and he did not appreciate that he had almost been killed.

He looked down at his cat, disapproving.

Grim didn’t look cowed (or… cated?), instead tugging on Yuu’s pant leg, trying to physically drag him away from the forest.

Yuu sighed.

He supposed that it was unlikely that he’d find any useful plants in the brush, anyway.

“Alright, plan B, then,” he said, somewhat reluctantly.

He grabbed the nearest plant pot filled with soil, and then walked right back into the store proper.

~

Yuu stepped into the convenience store, still frowning just slightly over his gross bag full of rotting fruits. It was wrapped in as many bags as he could physically tie around it, plus some, but it was still a miserable thing to carry.

You would think he’d get used to the smell of rot and death, but no. It’s a surprisingly varied smell. Just when you think you’ve smelled it all, another, worse smell will make itself known.

He hates his life. And his bag, right now. Ugh, he would never get the smell out of these clothes.

At least these seeds would, probably, sprout into something useful once he planted them. He wasn’t sure, since the plants themselves were rotted and therefore there was a very real chance that the seeds would be useless. He, frankly, did not have much knowledge about gardening, because he was a normal teen boy… but he could figure it out! He grabbed a couple of books on the subject, he’d be an expert in no time. By sheer force of will. He was determined to eat as few human beings as was physically possible.

Speaking of.

His cannibal friend.

He would… prefer not to catch the boy by surprise. For hopefully obvious reasons.

“Aaaaaace. I got that bell and string you wanted,” Yuu called, ringing the bell once for emphasis, before making his way further inside.

He could hear a flurry of movement, but he wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from. Maybe Ace had been asleep and was scrambling to get himself back into order before Yuu could see his bedhead…?

Ace cursed, loudly. This did not necessarily disprove that thought, but Yuu did end up remembering that Ace’s hair always looked like a bedhead, and there was no reason for him to suddenly care about it.

So… the sound was probably…

Yuu looked down at Grim, betrayed. “Did you send a zombie after my friend?!” he hissed.

Grim looked like he had only just now realized that that was an option. Which meant that it wasn’t a zombie that Ace was fighting. But then… what?

“Ace?” he called, standing on tiptoes to try and see over the shelves, trying to figure out where the scuffle was coming from. “You good?”

There was a loud banging sound from somewhere in the back of the store, and a shelf wobbled uncertainly.

Well, that answers that question.

He rushed towards the back of the store, and… well, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it really wasn’t to find Ace sitting on top of the freezer, looking for all the world as if he was entirely innocent… with a backpack and bat that Yuu had never seen before at his feet, and what looked to be a bruise forming on his cheek.

“Oh, hey. Yuu. You’re back. Thanks for the. Bell,” the boy said, entirely natural in his cadence and definitely not doing that thing you do when you’re entirely out of breath and trying to keep quiet about it because someone is passing you and you don’t want this random stranger to know how inactive you are.

Yuu raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re… welcome?”

There was a banging sound from inside of the freezer Ace was sitting on. Ace tried very hard not to react, but his fingers curled tighter around his knife anyway.

“There’s a person in there, isn’t there?” Yuu said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Noooooo,” said Ace, batting his eyelashes.

The not-person-inside-of-the-freezer screamed something that sounded distinctly like the word ‘yes’. This did not convince Yuu of Ace’s innocence.

Even Grim seemed to give Ace a look that screamed ‘who do you think you are fooling?’

“So, if there’s no person in there, then you’ll have no problem opening it, right?”

Ace’s smile strained at the edges. “... c’mon, man, don’t do this to me.”

Yuu looked at the freezer, mentally debating whether it was worth it to even get involved. Frankly, it was the apocalypse, and everyone that was still alive kind of sucked, and there was a nonzero chance that the person would not take being shoved into a freezer lightly and would try and kill them immediately upon being let out.

He sighed.

“How old did they look?” Yuu asked.

Ace hesitated just a hair longer than would typically be to Yuu’s liking.

He groaned. “Open it.”

Ace looked like he would very much prefer not doing that. But, when Yuu prodded him with his foot, he reluctantly stood and, holding his knife out in preparation for a possible attack, allowed him to unlock the freezer.

Another person, maybe about their age, emerged from the freezer like a vampire might emerge from a coffin, grim expression and all. This effect was ruined by the fact that his hair was… blue? Maybe he was a blond who had dyed his hair black with shitty dye and it had washed out weirdly without touch-ups. Or maybe he was just really into blue hair and was working to maintain it even throughout the apocalypse. Who knows?

The boy groaned and stepped out of the freezer, scowling at Ace. “Thank you,” he grumbled, immediately picking up his bat again. He stepped between Yuu and Ace, raising his weapon. He pointed it at the redhead, which is, really, not what you’re supposed to do with a bat. “You should run, he’s dangerous.”

Ace looked somewhere between flattered and offended. “Hey! That’s my –...” Ace trailed off, unsure. Yuu wondered, absently, what he would say. Would he call him a friend? Partner? Fellow survivor, even? “Chef!” Ouch. “He’s not leaving here, he’s mine!”

Grim growled.

“And Grim’s!” he added hastily.

The blue-haired boy, though, paused. He looked for the origin of the sound. Yuu nudged Grim into a shadowed area so he looked more like a normal cat. Because the boy seemed well-intentioned, and therefore was very likely to be against Yuu having a zombie for a pet.

What does that say about Yuu’s relationship with Grim? Well, he’d rather not think about it!

Yuu sighed, stepping around him carefully, holding his hands up placatingly. “I appreciate it, but it’s fine.”

The boy looked incredulous. “He’s killing and eating people?! He doesn’t even act like he likes you?! You’re his chef?!”

“Listen, man, it’s the apocalypse, I don’t have that many options.”

“Dude…” He offered Yuu a hand. “I’ll be your friend. I’m Deuce Spade. What’s your name?”

Ew, pity. He didn’t want a pity friend. He could take Ace talking to him out of fear of Grim or respect for his cooking prowess, but pity? No thanks.

Ace snatched up the outstretched hand before Yuu could even try to shake it (not that he currently wanted to), squeezing with way more force than was entirely necessary. “Ace Trappola. Nice to meet you.”

Deuce looked disgusted. And then mildly terrified when Ace made as if to slice off his hand.

Yuu was quick to grab Ace by the arm to stop him from murdering someone for the high crime of daring to suggest that he was not the safest person to be around. How could he not see that this was proving Deuce’s point?! You’d think he’d refrain from killing for the sake of being petty, at least, but no!

Deuce’s eyes looked strangely misty. Not even because of the almost-dying thing, that was pretty much par for the course when running into other survivors, he looked so upset about Yuu’s situation. Yuu wondered what kind of soap-opera-esque backstory the boy was dreaming up for him.

He didn’t get to ask, because Deuce quickly derailed the conversation before he could: “I guess I’ll have to stay here until you’re ready to leave.”

Ace spluttered. “No?! We let you live, you’re supposed to go, now?!”

Deuce scoffed. “Why do you get to make that decision?”

“This is my base?!”

Deuce, apparently, was not going to be swayed by Ace’s facts and logic.

Ace gave Yuu a pleading look. “Yuu, can we please kill him now?”

Yuu thought about it. And then shook his head, a tiny grin threatening to steal across his lips. “Nah, letting him stay is way funnier.”

From the look on everyone else’s faces, they vehemently disagreed.

But this isn’t about them! So, Deuce got to stay. Much to the chagrin of everyone. Including himself!

~~~~~~~

Pt3>

[daniwib]

Fic Rec Friday: Gaze of the Abyss

Rating M | Buddie | Rabies AU This is one of my favourite fics, it’s SO good but doesn’t get much traction because a lot of people don’t like reading about rabies I guess? (it’s like a zombie apocalypse but with rabies that infects animals and humans instead) It’s worth it though, it’s really, really worth it. Unfinished but the rest has been plotted out, I think the writer has just lost heart due to lack of encouragement. Comments might just work some magic, who knows! Am I scheming to get them more comments so they’ll continue it? Yes, yes I am. I am invested in this story so much lol, I liked it so much I made cover art for it! Please reblog this everyone. Share the joy!

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

can i ask why you like zombie fics? :0 and like. what tone/tropes/ect you like?

WELL. I generally just enjoy apocalyptic stories. I read the Left Behind series when I was like, 11, just because my dad happened to have all the books (hilariously, I don't think he ever read more than the first two or three lol but we had the ENTIRE series. 12 books. and I later collected the Left Behind Kids ones too skskdnfnskfnsk. hashtag just church kid things???) and it kind of just... grew from there. I don't think I ever really gave zombie stories in particular a second thought until I was like... 14 and a friend had mentioned that she watched the show The 100 and I just. got curious about it, bc it's already a post-apocalyptic story, which is enticing to me personally, and in the midst of my secondhand fandoming via that friend, I came across this one fic that made it into a zombie apocalypse AU. it's called "This Is A Song About Somebody Else" and the worldbuilding is just... AUGH it's just such good worldbuilding?? like the way zombie infection works in that story is SO interesting and the way it's shaped the world the author places the characters in is so well fleshed-out. (I will say, fair warning, there is some sexual content in the middle of it, but the worldbuilding and character arcs are good enough that I just kinda scroll really fast as soon as I hit that and continue reading once the scene is done skdcnskfnskfn). basically I attribute my love for zombie stories to that really well developed fanfic I read when I was 14 and then last winter spent literally two days scrolling back through AO3 to find again. and I've still never seen the source material!! I've never watched The 100 and honestly idk if I ever will!!! but I secondhand fandomed for a while and that fic gave me an interest in zombie stuff that continues to this day akdkxkanfndskfn

so the thing with apocalypse stories in general, including zombie ones, is that action doesn't cut it for me?? like my favorite apocalypse stories are Station Eleven (the book, not the HBO adaptation. I have thoughts on that that I might share at some point but idk.) and Gracie's (@imissthembutitwasntadisaster) apocalypse-verse and those are both... very quiet. almost mundane even as the world is ending/has ended. there's a calmness to it that I can't totally explain, but it's really just... life. living in the midst of things. and that's the thing that got me about This Is A Song About Somebody Else, too! there's calm. there's a sense of stillness that's fallen over the world and it's kinda chilling but also draws you in!! THAT'S what I think I love the most in apocalypse stories. (also — TLOU definitely gets the balance of action/mundanity right as well, even though being based on a video game there's a lot more action required than a lot of the stories I'm discussing here.)

and obvs when I'm talking about this stuff, there isn't just ONE THING I'm into regarding apocalypse/zombie stories. I like all kinds! I'm not picky tbh. but my favorites are when the worldbuilding is interesting and presented well, and also when the horror of the circumstance is very present in a way you the audience can really feel. I LOVE the horror of it all. but also, what it comes back around to is the perseverance and what makes it WORTH persevering.... the HOPE.

[ammo-never-runs-out-of-knives]

8, 10, 44? 🥰

8. Favourite fic from another author?

Oh this is a hard one. I’m going to keep it to zelda but if you want me to give recs for other fandoms then I’m down. Also the irony of you of all people asking for fic recs haha! Love it.

Okay, I can’t just pick one, so here’s a few that I love and have gone back to re-read several times. I’ve chosen some less known fics, just to give y’all something you might not have read before. There’s no real order to them though.

Linked Universe:

Looking For Group By Tashilover

Modern au where there are still heroes, but the way they are found is different. Really liked this one and it inspired my own modern au - which I still need to rewrite - and I like the world building. Great Twilight, Time and Wild in this one.

Stand Not at My Grave By Glau (Glaucus_Atlanticus)

God this one. It’s got some of the greatest relationship building out there between Time and Twilight. Most fics just start out with them with that parental bond, but this takes place when the Chain first meet up and shows who that might go down for Twilight. It also has aroace Twilight and Queer platonic partners and just a great read. Also really good Wild as well, of course! Him and Twilight are a delight.

Reunion Tour by Coolcrocs

This one! Post Lu where they all meet back up again! Nb Wild! There’s just so much to love about this fic that I can’t name it all. Just please read it, it’s really good.

memories misplaced by wheatbreadslice

Okay! Get ready to have thousands of years of angst at a speedrun from the pov of ghosts! Post lu as well, but lets take that concept and running with it into the afterlife.

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild:

Honey Nut by liketolaugh

Okay, a long one, but worth every word. I don't think there has been another Zelda fic that I’ve gotten quite as engrossed in. The ocs are wonderful - and that’s coming from someone that usually avoid oc heavy fics- and the world building it just breathtaking. Link from post-botw physically travels back in time to when him and Zelda were just children and helps them prepare for the Calamity. He meets familiar strangers along the way.

10. Origin of your username?

Okay, this is a bit of story. But when I was eleven or so, I desperately wanted a nickname. The one that would traditionally go with my name was also the name of a character from a cartoon. She scared me as a child and I did not want to share a name with her because I’d be reminded of her every time I heard it.

So, my friends decided to help me. We threw some around, but none fit. Until my friend - remembering that I was obsessed with zombies (some children loved horses or dolphins, I read the same three zombie novels over and over but anyway-) and she suggested Ammo.

I remember we’d been walking down a country road, corn field surrounding us, when she’d suggested it. I loved it so much that I’ve used it on every single piece of media I could get my hands on since then. I used to go by Ammo121 for the longest time, but I’ve been trying to get rid of the numbers at the end.

Sadly just Ammo is already taken on ao3 - by someone who doesn’t even use ao3 no I’m not salty - so I’ve been trying some things out. I didn’t like how Ammo-never-runs-out-of-knives looked on there - it was too long - but I finally found one that I don’t mind. I am now Ammo_Writes! On ao3 at least.

44. Share a snippet of your current WIP?

Oh god, which one? Um. Oh! My Older Wild fic! How about the first couple paragraphs from that? The fic itself probably won’t see the light of day for a while because I want to take my time with it and get as much of it written as I can. But here’s a little taste of what it might be like! Wrote this months ago, and I’ve definitely grown as a writer since, so hopefully it’s up to snuff. Enjoy!

The soil was cool between his toes and against his hands and made for a nice contrast to the sun warming his back. He wasn’t too worried about getting dirty – he never was – so he wiped his hands on his pants once he was finished pulling the last of the carrots. His basket had a nice mix of vegetables that he’d wash before storing in his slate. He’s particularly looking forward to trying out this year’s crop of tomatoes. It had taken years and several close calls to get them to properly grow in his era. One of a number of different plants that had been lost over the years, both he and Zelda had taken it upon themselves to bring them back from extinction. He’d bought as many seeds as he could get his hands on before the end of their adventure through time and space – and now he has tomatoes in his garden and they’re widely used all over Hyrule.

Standing up, he didn’t bother trying to get any more dirt off his hands or knees, but he did his best not to get it into his hair when he pushed his braid over his shoulder. He’d need to get it trimmed soon, the splint ends are getting a little too much for even him. Maybe he’ll make a day out of it and stop by the spa in Gerudo Town, say hello to his friends there.

Speaking of friends, he’ll have to visit Zelda so that they can set up a time for her to come over and help can some of these vegetables. Then he can force some of them on her and make her favorite cake. Or oh! Maybe even invite her on his spa day, to help her get away from the rebuilding for a bit. He knows that several of the people working under her would jump at the opportunity to force her to take a break.

[scabopolis]

Ummm because my brain could never come up with something as genius as yours, I will ask—nay, BEG—for more LoVe Vampire AU from Day 1 AU week.

Title: do not engage (part two of this little ficlet) Rating: PG-13 (some swears…because girl is still stressed) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars, Additional Tags: Secret identity, vaguely vampire hunter related things, filed under: relationship obstacles, sharing of bagels, vampire Logan is probably far too schmoopy, tried to write angst but whooops I think it's fluff? Word Count: 1,800

For you, dear, @ayy-ohh? Anything. This one really got me stuck because...like...world building? What is that? And would vampires eat bagels? And why DOES Logan have a cell in his basement? So many questions. Anyway! Here it is! *** That she can’t remember ever seeing Logan Echolls in the daylight should have been Veronica’s first clue.

It’s just, given the nocturnal demands of her profession and thus her morning grumpiness, it was easy to miss. Easy to be grateful for. Easy to be relieved that Logan wasn’t like her college boyfriend—the kind of guy who insisted they wake up at 6:00 AM to go running and felt a day spent inside with the shades drawn was a day wasted.

There were, of course, other clues she missed.

Weirdly cryptic statements and obfuscations. (Given she was also prone to said crypticism, she didn’t press for fear he’d do the same.) His reticence towards beach days. (It seemed logical! Who doesn’t hate dodging tourists?) The weird way he’d linger at doorways of unfamiliar houses. (Again, given her own antipathy to socializing, his hesitation was something she understood.)

In retrospect, given that not pressing Logan on his vague answers landed her here—in a weird cell gnawing at the ropes her ex-boyfriend tied tightly around her wrists—she supposes she should have tried harder. She hears Logan’s footsteps on the stairs into the basement but doesn’t stop her attempt to undo the knots.

“I hope you have a good dental plan,” Logan says. She rolls her eyes and continues to work at the strands with her teeth. “Is there even a vampire hunter’s union? Might be something worth looking into. Though, given the general mistrust the position requires, electing a president might prove tricky.”

“God, staking you would have at least gotten you to shut up.”

“But then there’s the crushing guilt.”

“I would have managed.”

Do not engage. In the 36-ish hours she’s been in this cell, that’s been her motto. The secret to coping with the fact that your boyfriend is a vampire and that you and your dad are vampire hunters is to remain detached and cold.

Except it hasn’t been easy. Because her wrists hurt, she smells bad, and oh yeah, apparently she’s not as out of love with the bloodthirsty monster wearing the hell out of a henley and holding a bag of takeout as she thought.

“I got bagels,” he says.

As soon as he says it, the scent of cinnamon raisin wafts from the bag. He doesn’t wait for her to stand; simply slips the paper bag containing her bagel through the bars and slides it to her. Much like he’s done for their previous shared meals, he sits on the ground a safe distance from her and settles into eating his own.

She tears the paper bag and sees that not only has Logan brought her a bagel, he’s also brought her some sort of sandwich and a chocolate chip cookie. God. What an asshole.

What is his endgame here? If he wanted to kill her, he would have done it by now. It’s only a matter of time until her dad begins to question whatever story Logan texted him from her phone. Her dad will show up and he will have questions. What will Logan say then?

“What will I say to who?” Logan asks.

Shit. Detachment is also easier when inside thoughts remain inside thoughts. “No one.”

“If you’re talking about your dad, he’s out of town for the rest of the week.”

She concentrates on the pattern of the cinnamon swirl laced throughout her breakfast. “What do you mean?”

“According to the text he sent you last night, he had to go to Vegas. Vampire gambling ring of some sort?”

“You’re lying.”

“Takes a liar to know a liar.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and takes a large bite of her bagel, surveying the interior of her holding cell. And yes, fine, she technically has a policy of not engaging with the pointy fanged one, but she has questions.

“What is the point of having a cell in your basement? Is it for weird sex stuff? Or weird vampire stuff?”

“Who says those two things are mutually exclusive?”

She rolls her eyes. “Spare me, please. I’m eating.”

“I’ll tell you but you won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“My friend, Mac?” He extends his legs out in front of him. “Once a month, this is her guest suite.”

Veronica frowns. “For weird sex stuff?”

He raises an eyebrow in amusement which, fair, she should probably stop using the phrase weird sex stuff.

Wait. Is he saying—?

“Logan,” she says carefully, “is Mac a werewolf?” He nods, and Veronica’s bagel drops to the floor. “Could you be more of a vampiric cliche? Honestly! Does a zombie do your taxes? Does a ghoul trim your hedges?”

“I trim my own hedges, thank you very much.”

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or it might be the remaining vestiges of adrenaline leaving her body, but Veronica laughs. Just a little bit. At best it’s a chuckle. Still, it’s enough to make Logan smile in that way he sometimes does—like he can’t believe his luck that he even gets to be in the same room as Veronica. It makes something feel heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. Do not engage.

“You really didn’t know?” she asks.

Logan’s answer with a slow nod. “I didn’t know.”

“Then how—?”

“It wasn’t an ambush, Veronica.” He pinches off a small piece of his bagel. (Sourdough, she guesses. Probably with jalapeno cream cheese because the man added jalapenos to everything.) She watches as Logan rolls the bread between his fingers. “The date was real but one of Dick’s friends recognized you somehow.”

“You were the one who threw me into a tree.”

“Yeah, and as far as they know, you’re dead. As far as they know, I was so enraged a vampire hunter tricked me that I took you home to finish you off.”

“Which means if you let me go—”

“They’ll know I lied.” He shrugs. “Either they kill me or your dad does. This way you’re safe.”

“Logan—”

“Sorry,” he says. “You called dibs on the killing?”

“Poor little vamp with a death wish.” She doesn’t mean for it to sound so fond. What is wrong with her?

The corner of his mouth twitches with a fleeting smile. There’s a ticking clock on their time together and now they both know it.

“I’ve never seen a vampire eat as much food as you,” she says.

He sets his bagel aside. “Dine with a lot of vampires?”

“Enough to know you eating that bagel is like me eating a bag of sour gummies.”

“Meaning?”

“You might like the taste of a lightly toasted sesame bagel, but an hour later you need to puncture the carotid artery of a single mother to really satisfy yourself.”

“You know sesame seeds get caught in my teeth. And single mothers come with too much guilt.”

“Hedge fund managers?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Veronica has questions, of course she does. More questions than she can properly express—wonders how old he is, who turned him, who gets him blood and how, why he’s friends with Dick Casablancas, if Logan is safe with Dick as a friend—but she doesn’t ask any of those. Because he asks the most important question first.

“What are we going to do, Veronica?”

She stands up, brushes cinnamon raisin crumbs off of her pants. (She catches a whiff of her unshowered self and cringes. So much for their farewell existing as a perfectly preserved memory in the mind of her undead ex-boyfriend.) “There’s no we, Logan. There can’t be.”

He can’t let her go, he can’t keep her locked up, and she can’t stay.

Logan pushes himself up off the ground and comes to meet her at the bars to the cell. “Yeah.”

“First, you’re going to let me out of here.” She wraps her hands around the bars. Logan does just like she’d hoped and does the same, his pinkies barely grazing her knuckles. “And then I never want to see you ever again.”

“That’s what you want?”

God. What a fucking idiot. Of course that isn’t what she wants. What she wants is to go back two days. To return to that night when Logan made pancakes for dinner, and they got drunk on rum and cokes, and then he kissed down her spine as they lay in bed.

She nods anyway. Presses her head against the bars.

“Fine.” Veronica squeezes her eyes shut. “If you ever need anything?” She nods again and she feels the gentle touch of Logan’s lips to her forehead. How is he always so warm? It never made sense.

“I won’t.”

And then, much to her surprise, he walks away. Without letting her out.

She opens her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he says, a portrait of portrait insouciance once more. “You didn’t expect me to let you go now did you? What if this show of emotion is a long con? I could wake up to find you standing over my body poised to pull back my black out shades.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Nighty night, Veronica.”

Logan doesn’t return to the basement and eventually she falls into a fitful sleep, waking up sometime before the sun rises. She definitely needs to pee and she’s so sick of the ‘toilet’ in her cell. Logan should still be awake. Maybe if she yells really—

Finishing that thought proves to be unnecessary because as soon as Veronica’s eyes adjust to the dim light, she notices the door to her cell is ajar. She’s barely thinking as she jumps from the bed and races up the stairs.

“Logan!” she calls out.

Her first stop is the kitchen, where she maneuvers a knife in between the strands of the ropes around her wrists and works to free herself. Her cell phone is waiting for her on the wireless charger Logan keeps in the kitchen. No messages from her dad, but she sends one to check in. She rubs at the tender skin on her wrists as she searches each room of Logan’s house.

As far as she can tell, there isn’t much missing. Some of his toiletries are gone (her toothbrush is still beside the sink) and she thinks maybe some of his clothes too. His motorcycle is still in the garage but the BMW is gone.

So. That’s it? He’s just gone? What about his house? There’s a housing crisis in southern California and this asshole thinks it’s acceptable to simply abandon a perfectly good home? He didn’t even leave a note.

It’s really the irresponsibility that—

Her call rings through to his voicemail. Rolls her eyes at the Dylan Thomas quote that greets her. That’s new.

“If you think I’m watering your plants for you while you’re gone, you are completely delusional.”

He responds while she’s in the shower. (What? She’s really supposed to put up with shitty water pressure at her place when he has a rain shower and heated bathroom tiles?)

Miss me already?

She responds with a garlic emoji.

[nightshade-minho]

-Inferno-

Warnings: public sex, insinuated break-up, cheating (kind of), fingering, oral (f. receiving), exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampie, Master!kink, degradation, humiliation, size kink, light dacryphilia. 

Wc: 3k+

Note: (@chanonymous told me this Minho gives off Black Widow vibes- and I just had to write another superhero!au. Minho’s alias in this is Black Widow, but he isn’t really affiliated to or similar to the Marvel Black Widow in any way. Y/n’s alias is DragonClaw, and she’s a dragon-shapeshifter with pyrokinesis. I know this is the second Y/n I’ve written with pyrokinesis- I’m sorry, I just love fire hhh-)

Why?

Why did the universe hate you so fucking much? 

It was torture enough being one of only two female superheroes at this year’s Annual Gala. It didn’t help that said female superhero was The Peacock, aka insufferable, bitchy diva- who was currently on the stage, that melodious, lilting voice of hers flooding through the speakers.  You watched as the men around you fawned over her, listening eagerly as she regaled everyone with yet another one of her self-centred tales. 94% made up, you were sure of that. 

“There’s no way she’d be able to beat up 50 gangsters with her powers.”

And there it was. His voice. Him. The real reason for your anger and frustration tonight. 

You carefully ignored him, hating the way he was seated right next to you at the table. How did this happen? There were currently 50 tables in the venue, more than enough to accommodate every superhero in the state. But of course, your rotten luck had landed you right next to him.

“I just don’t understand. Isn’t her power looking pretty, or something like that?”

You gritted your teeth, still not looking at him. However, the awkwardness of his unanswered question lingering in the air became too much to bear.

“It’s Allure. Her power is Allure.”

“Meaning?”

You rolled your eyes, answering reluctantly.

“Supernatural beauty that can be used to manipulate, distract and hypnotize.”

‘So...basically, looking pretty. Huh. That’s a cool superpower, being so beautiful that people can’t help but do what you say.”

You stayed silent, your eyes observing the seated audience, all of them absolutely enamoured by the beauty on stage. You’d entertained him enough.

“I think you’re prettier, though.”

That was it. You whipped your head around to face him, breath slightly hitching in your throat as your eyes met his. “Shut up.” You hissed. “Stop trying to talk to me.”

“Why?” He asked, smirking. 

“You know why. I don’t like you. That’s why.”

“Come on, Y/n. No one here knows about our...history.”

You glanced around, putting a finger up to your lips. “Why don’t you scream my real name a little louder? I don’t think the Grand Master heard you.”

“Look, just because you used to be a supervillain once doesn’t mean you still are so-”

You were sure he was doing this on purpose. You quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, shooting a look of apology to the dude opposite you, who turned to look. As soon as the man turned away, you glared at him.

“Look, Minho.” You seethed, your voice dripping with venom. “I’m not the only one with dirty secrets here. If you don’t shut up, I’ll stand up right now, and tell everyone who really caused that wildfire in California.”

“It wasn’t my fault-” 

“Yeah, right.”

Minho sighed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your hand, wrenching it away from his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been saying sorry ever since that day. Although I’m not the only one who should be apologizing, and you know it just as well as I do.”

You turned away from him, choosing to ignore him once again. The pain was still fresh, the emotions still raw. You remember how devastated you’d been that night, how you’d wanted to murder everyone in sight. Instead...you turned a new leaf, and chose to reinvent yourself as a superhero. Usually, tragic incidents and heartbreak lead to the birth of a supervillain- in your case, it was the opposite. You’d felt so miserable and dejected that you became good. 

And the man sitting next to you was the cause of it all. The fact that he had the audacity to sit there and flirt- especially knowing everything that happened between the two of you? It made you want to bury him six feet deep.

You fiddled with the spoon on the table. “How...how is she?”

“Who?”

“You know, her. Your girlfriend.”

“...girlfriend?”

“Spitfire.”

“Oh. Her. Um, she’s fine.”

Minho was lying. He hadn’t seen Jiwon- Spitfire, since that fateful night. Somehow, though, the lie had come out before he could stop it.

He watched you nod slightly, your face still turned away from him. 

Fuck, why did I do that? What was I expecting? That she’d be jealous? That she’d beg me to leave Jiwon? That she’d fall at my feet and ask me to take her back? Stupid.

Minho shook his head, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair and tried to focus on the woman speaking. But..he just couldn’t. His eyes kept drifting to you. He wished he could take the mask covering half your face off..wished he could see your beautiful eyes staring into his again. 

Wished he could kiss you just one more time...

***

The next few minutes passed by in silence. You were about ready to walk up on stage and strangle the woman, droning on and on. She seemed to go off on tangents constantly, the story growing longer and longer until you just couldn’t take it anymore. 

The rest of the audience clearly didn’t share your views, their gazes filled with adoration and wonder. Well...everyone except...

You turned to Minho. He seemed to be lost in thought, his stare fixed on the blank wall. 

“Hey? Earth to Minho?”

He snapped out of his reverie, turning to look at you. His eyes widened as he realized you were talking to him.

“Shh. Black Widow.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s a silly alias.”

“Like Dragonclaw is much better.”

“Hey! Dragonclaw is a very cool alias.”

Minho rolled his eyes as you shoved his arm playfully, your heart growing a little lighter. 

Okay. Just...forget about the past. Talk to him, even if it’s only to keep yourself from dying of boredom...

And so you did. The two of you started talking. He moved his chair closer to yours, telling you what he’d been up to for the past three years, discreetly whispering. 

“Okay, okay. Enough about the missions, tell me more about Spitfire! What’s she like?”

“S-she’s...cool. Very...fiery.”

You scoffed, shaking your head and smiling. “Do you have a thing for superheroes with pyrokinesis or something?”

“Uh...yeah, I guess you could say that.” He winked, noting how your face turned a light shade of pink. Hmm...

“Though...she’s nothing, compared to you. You were really...hot, especially in bed.”

You sneered at him. “That was a bad pun. Seriously, you could do better than that.”

“Oh, what a burn.”

You cringed, pressing your lips together. “Never mind, this was a bad idea. Even listening to Peacock’s speech is more bearable than this...”

“No, wait- I’m worth your time, I promise.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Maybe it was the way you puffed your lips out, or maybe it was your challenging tone...either way, Minho couldn’t help it. Before he even realized what he was doing, his hand was on your thigh. 

Your eyes widened a little. “W-what are you doing?” You stuttered.

Courage, Minho. “I know of a way we can get rid of the boredom...”

“You do? And w-what might that be?” You swallowed, feeling a slight streak of arousal shoot through you, despite his minimal touch. 

Minho’s confidence grew as he observed your flustered demeanor. His hand slowly crept up your thigh, a delightful smirk spreading across his face as you bit your lip, your sudden shyness turning him on. He leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Do you want this, kitten? Tell me to stop before it’s too late...”

You shuddered as he called you that pet name. He hadn’t called you that in years...

Minho took your silence as a yes, his fingers creeping up higher until it reached your zipper. He slowly pulled it down all the way, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. 

His hand slipped into your pants. Your breath hitched as his fingers reached your clothed clit, the pad of his finger running over it.

“How does that feel, kitten?”

You struggled to speak as he started rubbing you in circular motions. “It f-feels...good...” You choked out.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” 

You heard a clatter as a fork fell to the floor. You twisted your head, Minho shrugging. “Oops. I dropped my fork...”

Your eyes widened as Minho slipped off his chair, crawling under the table. Looking around frantically, you realized that no one had heard the loud noise, Peacock’s glamour still captivating them- they were essentially zombies. 

Honestly. Did she not know how to turn the sexiness off, at least to be professional-

Your line of thought was interrupted as you felt Minho pulling down your pants, down to your ankles. Oh, right. 

So much for professionalism. 

You felt him spread your thighs apart, fitting himself between them. A few seconds passed before his breath ghosted over your clit, his fingers coming up to rub you through your panties.

You clutched the edge of the table, sweat forming on your forehead as his fingers slid aside your underwear. He ran two digits through your soaked folds, humming to himself. “Still as wet and pretty as ever...”

You shifted slightly in your seat, eyes darting here and there. This was so risky. Your eyes went up to Peacock, your brain unable to comprehend her incessant chatter as Minho pressed a kiss to your clit, his fingers circling your entrance.

You let out a soft whimper, leaning back against the seat as he pulled you forward a little. Placing your palm over your mouth, you muffled your moans as he wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. 

He let out an appreciative moan at your taste, pushing a finger into your drenched pussy and trying to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. Minho could barely believe that this was actually happening- he wanted to pinch himself, but both his hands were currently occupied. One was busy gripping your thigh, the other drawing little moans from you as his fingers went deeper.

“Fuck...you taste so good...” He mumbled against your pussy, tongue coming out to lap at your folds. You could do nothing but groan helplessly, his mouth alternating between sucking on your clit and licking at your pussy, fingers fucking you through it all.

Your legs shook as you realized you were about to cum. You pressed your hand over your mouth, trying your best to not let out any sounds. You felt your high build up- flames of pleasure sparking at you...until it was all gone.

You frowned as Minho pulled away from you, confusion filling you as he tugged on your leg. Quickly looking around you, you bent down to lift the tablecloth and make eye contact with him.

“Come down here.”

“W-what? P-people will definitely noti-”

“That wasn’t a question, it was an order. Do as I say, or you’ll regret it, kitten.”

You whimpered softly, your heart beating faster as you lowered yourself to the floor. Minho quickly pulled you under the table, adjusting the tablecloth behind you before turning to you. 

Smirking at you, he palmed himself, eyes watching you hungrily as he crawled over you.

“Minho...this is a bad idea. I’m already on thin enough ice as it is-”

“Shh...” He traced his finger over your chin, down to your zipper, slowly pulling it down. He licked his lips as your chest was exposed slowly, leaning down to nibble at your ear. 

You stared up at him with glassy eyes, throwing your head back as Minho’s lips made his way to your neck, sucking on your skin hard enough to leave a hickey.

“M-Min...”

“Hmm?” He breathed against your neck, his fingers pulling the zipper all the way to your navel, staring at your bare skin. 

“Please...”

“Please, what?”

“I w-want...you...”

He chuckled. “I thought you were scared. Superheroes should be brave, you know?”

You frowned up at him, his infuriating smirk making you want to slap it off his face. “Shut up and fuck me already.”

He frowns. “That’s no way to talk to your Master.”

“M-master?”

He nodded, mouthing at your chest and wrapping his lips around your soft nipple, sucking gently. 

“Looks like you need to be taught a lesson, my little slut...you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

You opened your eyes as you felt the head of his cock against your pussy, moaning softly. Minho stared down at you, jaw clenched. He couldn’t wait a second more.

His hand made his way to the back of your head, gripping your mask, breathing hard. “Can I?”

You sighed, nodding. “Yeah, please...just...need you in me.”

He slowly took your mask off, tossing it to the side as his eyes took in your face fully, breath hitching in his throat. You were just as beautiful as he remembered.

It was too much to handle. Eyes still fixed on yours, Minho steadily pushed his cock into your pussy. He groaned as he felt your walls hugging his length tightly, going deeper until his tip hit your cervix. 

“You’re so fucking tight...how are you even taking this big cock?”

He growled, clutching your waist as he moved you up and down on his cock. You moaned, his solid girth filling you up perfectly. You felt weak, shivering as Minho started thrusting slowly, loving the little whimpers falling off your tongue.

“You’re so...so big...”

“I know. And you’re too small, so easily ruined.”

“Please. F-faster-”

“If I go any faster, I might destroy this tiny pussy.”

You whine, slinging your arms around his neck, an innocent expression on your face as you pouted at him. “Please, Master? Want to be...s-stretched out by you, want my pussy ruined...”

He stared down at you with dilated pupils, a low groan in the back of his throat as this new side of you came out. 

“You’re driving me insane...” Minho sped up his pace, the sound of skin slapping skin growing louder as his hips met yours with each thrust. “What a little whore, so needy for cock that she’d let herself get fucked under the table in a room full of hundreds of people...”

You felt the humiliation rise in you as his hands stayed on your waist, firmly pounding into you. “You like being a little sex toy for Master? Like being used as his personal cock sleeve?”

You nodded desperately, swallowing as Minho chuckled, one of his hands coming up to grope at your breast, thumb stroking your nipple slowly. 

“Well, I love fucking this little pussy open-” He cut himself off with a groan as you clenched around him, spurring him on and making him go harder.

He shifted a little bit, causing his dick to hit your sweet spot dead-on, drawing a long whine out of you. 

“Shh, kitten, you don’t want anyone else knowing what’s going on under here, right?”

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. Minho grunted, leaning down, face hovering over yours. You held his gaze for a few minutes, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Minho was the first to break. He leaned in and softly pressed his lips to yours, a sharp contrast to the harshness of his cock plunging deeply into you. He deepened the kiss, tongue meeting yours as he held your cheek. The kiss quickly became messy, as his hips went faster.

“M-master, ‘m gonna cum...” You mumbled against his lips. Minho pulled away, his eyes turning darker as he observed the tiny teardrops gathering in your eyes. 

“Aww, is my cock making the little baby cry?”

You whimpered, the tears spilling past as you squirmed, hating the way he’d stopped thrusting. 

“P-please, wanna cum...please! Want Master’s cum filling me up...”

“Fuck, I’ll give what you want, fucking slut.”

His eyes moved over your tear-streaked face, groaning as he lifted your leg up over his shoulder, enabling him to go deeper into you. He began fucking into you, his pace ruthless as he worked towards making you cum, his other hand coming down to rub your clit.

You arched your back as you felt your orgasm approaching, your hands tugging at his hair and making you moan. 

He pecked your lips. “Cum, baby...cum for me.”

You whined, unable to hold it anymore as he pinched your clit. The white-hot pleasure made you cry out, Minho groaning as you clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you. The overstimulation slowly set in as he fucked you harder.

“Fuck-”

His hips stuttered as he chased his own high, cock twitching inside you. A few thrusts later, he came with a groan, spilling his seed inside you.

You watched Minho, moaning softly at the feeling of his cum pooling deep in your core. His chest heaved as he panted, collapsing on top of you. You hummed, your grip in his hair loosening as he lifted himself off you slightly, eyes searching yours.

“How did that feel?”

“F-felt so good...” You paused suddenly as a thought hit you, now that the pleasure had worn off. 

“Wait...Minho...you just ch-cheated on-”

Minho sighed, rolling his eyes.”I didn’t, Y/n. I was lying. I haven’t seen her since that night. Trust me...cheating’s something I’ll never do again.” He whispered, thumb stroking over your wet cheeks.

You looked up at him, filled with emotions that were familiar, yet also new. 

“Give me another chance, Y/n. Please.”

You thought about it, sighing as you nodded. “Okay...but we’re going to take things slow.”

He let out a small laugh, eyes drifting to the spot where you two were connected. “Bit late for that.”

He pulled out slowly, watching as his cum seeped out of your entrance. He used his fingers to part your pussy lips, groaning softly under his breath at the sight of your stuffed pussy.

Suddenly, a loud voice boomed through the speakers, startling you. You hadn’t even realized that Peacock had stopped talking.

“And for the next speech, Dragonclaw! Come up onstage, and share with us your report from the last few months.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you sat up, half-naked and filled with cum.

Minho smirked at you. “Go on, then.”

[wavesmp3]

before the bucket falls

jeonghan x (female) reader 

requested from sensory prompt #33: the feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade genre: study abroad/university au + apocalyptic-ish  wc: 4k warnings: implied nudity i guess, maybe a few curses as well a/n: i apologize that this took me ages to finish, also the bucket list is completed out of order, enjoy!!

(0. Hear That There’s A Week Until The End Of The World)

You hadn’t expected to be so nonchalant when you hear that the world is ending in a week. Hadn’t expected to so readily accept you and your classmates inability to return home from studying abroad for the semester. And you certainly hadn’t expected to sit down with Jeonghan that afternoon (an acquaintance-made-friend in the whirlwind of apocalypse news) to create a list of things to do before the world ends. 

“We’ll start tomorrow,” he declares scribbling one final item on the bucket list before folding the paper and shoving it in his pocket, “and hopefully we finish before the world goes up in flames.” 

(6. Bang On The Hood Of A Car And Say ‘Hey, I’m Walking Here!’)

Your first day before the end of the world begins with you and Jeonghan searching for a car. 

“This one is...” Jeonghan frowns, rereading the sixth item on the bucket list. Looking up, he says, “it was your idea wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Now, get in the car and pretend to almost run me over.” 

Jeonghan complies, starting the car and driving towards you all too slowly. Still, when he gets close enough, you bang on the hood of the car, half-laughing and half-yelling “hey, I’m walking here!” He only laughs at you incredulously. 

You switch after that, you in the car and Jeonghan walking across the street. And this time, when you get close to his figure instead of banging on the hood, you hear a small thud and watch him fall to the floor. You run out of the car shrieking his name only to find him on the ground laughing. 

“I thought-” you exhale, breath hot with a mix of shock and relief, “I thought I actually hit you.” 

Jeonghan doesn’t say a word too busy literally rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach in laughter. And when you shove him, kneeling on the ground and smacking his arm for freaking you out, he only laughs harder. 

(3. Steal Something)

Unsurprisingly, number three on the list is Jeonghan’s idea. You don’t argue, not at first at least. But when you step into the convenience store and begin shoving bags of chips under your shirt and bottles of soda into your bag, you start to feel the small push of your consciousness. 

“Is this a good idea?” You say to Jeonghan who’s deciding which kinds of candy he wants to hide in his pockets. 

“There’s no one even here.” He waves you off pointing at the empty cash register. “So honestly I’m not even convinced if this counts as completing number three.” Deciding on a chocolate bar, he turns on his heel, grabs an extra bottle of juice, and exits the store casually. 

(11. Perform Three Acts Of Kindness) 

You leave some money at the unmanned cash register anyways. “Number eleven,” you say to him when he gives you a look, “it can be our first act of kindness.” He stares at you for a long moment, as if deciding how he should react to your inability to shoplift. You half expect him to walk back into the empty store and take your money from the counter. He doesn’t though. Instead, he smiles, a lopsided one that makes some part of your stomach twist uncomfortably, and laughs towards the ground, his head hanging in a way that makes his bangs fall in front of his eyes. You feel suddenly, almost foolishly, warm. 

“Come,” he beckons, pulling at your sleeve, “let’s eat.”

(10. Eat The Perfect Meal) 

The perfect meal isn’t actually perfect, an odd mix of convenience store snacks and whatever you both had left in your dorms. 

“We should have cooked something ourselves,” Jeonghan mumbles, between a mouthful of chips, “the perfect meal has to be made with love.” 

“It also has to be edible,” you retort, sipping your coffee and recalling your earlier realization that neither you or Jeonghan can cook. 

And it’s after a few more moments of eating away the tenth item on your shared bucket list that he asks, “how do you think it’ll happen?” You look up from your fruit cup. “How do you think the world is gonna end?”

“I don’t know,” you answer, “something big perhaps. An explosion?”

“Or Zombies?” he continues for you, light-heartedly. “Aliens, maybe?” 

And perhaps two days ago, you would’ve laughed at the possibility of the world coming to an end thanks to an alien invasion, but right now, sitting next to Jeonghan with yesterday’s headlines bouncing back and forth in your head, you don’t feel anything but melancholic. And like feet sinking into sand, you realize for the second time since the news came out that you have less than a week left to live. With a hopeless sigh, you say, “I hope that when the world ends, it’s painless.”

And unlike his previous suggestions, there’s nothing light-hearted about the way Jeonghan adds, “something quick.”

(4. Sing A Song Loudly In Public) 

You had wrongly assumed that this particular bucket list item was meant to be a fun and embarrassing karaoke in public sort of thing. But when Jeonghan stands on the ledge of the fountain in the center of the plaza and begins singing, you realize you've created a bucket list with an angel. Or at least, a boy with the voice of one. The plaza isn’t very busy this afternoon, but the few passersby that happen to catch his mini concert erupt in a well-earned applause when the song finishes. 

“You can sing?” You question in disbelief of just how good his voice sounds. 

He shrugs at that, jumping off the ledge in a shy sort of way that doesn’t at all match the kind of guy you pegged Jeonghan to be. “Your turn.” He pushes you towards the ledge. 

You almost fight against the nudge, almost turn around and tell Jeonghan just how tone deaf you are. But when he smiles your way and cheers your name encouragingly, you decide the embarrassment might be worth it. 

It’s not, it turns out. The entire plaza seems to murmur ‘why is she singing?’ the second you open your mouth. And it’s before you even reach the second verse that Jeonghan starts clapping and whooping for you. “Wow!” He exclaims cheerfully. “You suck.” 

You burst into laughter at that, cut your song short, and jump off the ledge grabbing Jeonghan’s hand and running away from the embarrassment with him close behind. 

—

“Where’d you learn how to sing like that?” You finally ask, later than afternoon as you and Jeonghan aimlessly walk along the street. 

He shrugs again, a familiar timidness overwhelming his body, then tells you about the singing lessons he used to take. “It used to be my dream. To become a singer.” 

“Used to?” 

He sucks in his bottom lip. “Things changed I guess.” 

You decide not to prod further. “If you could do anything right now, right before the world ends, what would you do?” 

“Anything?” 

“Anything.” 

He thinks it over for a moment, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Hold a concert.” He answers finally. And when you give him a look, a reminder of what he said about things changing, he just smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and mutters something about how dreams die hard. And for the third time today, you’re surprised by how shy Jeonghan gets about his singing and how endearing you find it when he does. 

“What about you?” He returns this question, pushing the attention away from himself. “What would you do?” 

“I’d go home.” You say quietly, hoping the press of sadness that comes with thinking about home doesn’t show in your voice. “See my family once more before the world ends.” And when Jeonghan doesn’t respond or meet your eyes, you laugh, unable to procure a more creative reaction. “It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?” 

“‘No, no.” He says quickly, waving away the suggestion before the words can even settle in the air. “It’s not lame; it’s…” his voice trails off, fingers reaching out in front of him as if he’ll find the right words in the last remaining rays from the sun. His hand drops to the side. Seemingly, giving up on the previous sentence, he says, “Tell me about them. Your family.” 

You’re about to say no. About to change the topic to something a bit lighter. Something that doesn’t force you to think about home and the people that you miss so fiercely and long to see once more. But it’s as the word ‘no’ bubbles in the back of your throat, that you meet Jeonghan’s eyes and find a starling amount of sincerity in them. And when you go looking for your intent to reject the request, you find it’s disappeared altogether. “Okay.” You exhale. “Where should I begin?” 

And so you spend the rest of the day telling Jeonghan about your family, and by the time the sun begins to set, he tells you about his. 

(12. Say Goodbye To Your Family) 

You both decide it’s better to get this part of the list over with. Pulling out your phones and dialing home soon after the sun sets. It’s an odd sort of arrangement, you think to yourself listening to the phone ring, you and Jeonghan sitting on opposite sides of this empty street. “Privacy,” he had told you, walking away from you and taking a seat on the curb, “this way you can cry in private.” 

It’s… bearable at first. You talk to your family, update them on what you’ve been doing since your last call home as if everything is normal, as if they’re expecting another update soon, as if the world isn’t ending in a few days. But the facade that everything is fine comes crashing down the second you hear a noise come from the other side of the road, a mangled sound that rushes all the way from Jeonghan’s mouth to you, banging at your heart and creating a dent between your lungs. And you suppose that if you were a little bit closer and if Jeonghan hadn’t turned around to put his back between him and you, you would’ve heard him sobbing. The thought alone ignites a flame of sadness that emerges from your lips, travels through the phone lines, and ripples across the ocean separating you and your family.

Saying goodbye to your family does not stay bearable for long. 

He finishes the call before you. And when you do finally hang up, it takes ten minutes of calming down before you're in any state to walk across the road and greet Jeonghan for what feels like the first time that night. 

“Can we, uh,” you stop, sniffle, then laugh at the absurdity of this moment, “can we stop here for today.” 

“Yeah,” he mutters, finally standing from the floor. He doesn’t look your way, keeps his eyes trained to the ground while bringing a hand up to wipe at his nose and eyes. “I’ll walk you home.” 

(5. Wish Upon A Star) 

Sleep doesn’t come that night. You spend it tossing and turning in bed, replaying every bit of what was probably your last conversation with your family. At 2 am there’s a knock on your door. Jeonghan stands in the doorway, eyes drooping and blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you say, opening the door and letting him in, “I can’t sleep either.” 

After another moment, he finally says, “have you ever been to the roof?” 

You let him lead the way. 

— 

The night air feels cool against your skin, brushing through your hair and sending a shiver across your skin. You pull your hoodie closer around you before laying down on the roof next to Jeonghan who throws his blanket so that it drapes over both of you. 

“Which one for number five?” He says gesturing to the starry night sky. 

“Number five?” 

“Wish upon a star.” He reminds you. 

You lift your hand and point to one off the center, a bright one that flickers more than the others. “That one.” 

“Okay,” he exhales. You watch the breath leave from his lips. “Make a wish.” 

You do.

“Which star do you think is gonna blow up and cause the end of the world?” He asks, shifting his body and ending up a fraction closer to you. 

“Give me a crash course on all of them and I’ll let you know.”

He does, making up constellations and creating fake names for each one. 

And at some point in his explanation of the origin of each star, his hand finds yours. The cold seems to wither away after that. 

(1. Ride A Motorcycle) 

“Are you sure you know how to ride this thing.” You question for the fifth time that morning, pacing around the moped and Jeonghan who’s sitting impatiently on it. 

“Just get on would you?” He huffs, dropping the extra helmet on your head and pulling you towards the moped. You settle behind him, fixing your helmet and clasping it in place. “You know how to get to the beach right?”

“Yeah, but we just need to make a pit stop somewhere first.” 

“That’s fine. Grab on.”

Ignoring the unevenness of your breath, you wrap your arms around his torso. You try not to think too hard about the way he momentarily tenses up when you do. 

“Ready?”

“Please, don’t kill me on this thing. We’re all dying in a few days-” He doesn’t let you finish, revving the motorcycle and laughing when you scream into his shoulder. 

(11. Perform Three Acts of Kindness) 

“What are we here for?” Jeonghan wonders aloud, his voice echoing in the auditorium. 

“Number 11. Our second act of kindness.” He looks at your quizzingly. “Yesterday you said that if you could do anything before the end of the world, you’d have your own concert. So here,” you hand him a mic and point at the empty stage, “go sing.”

You’ve never seen him run so excitedly. 

(3. Steal Something)

When Jeonghan wrote down ‘steal something’, you definitely hadn’t expected him to coerce you into stealing a house. “This isn’t even stealing. This is trespassing.” You hiss under your breath, looking over your shoulder. “Plus, we already stole from the convenience store.”

“Firstly,” Jeonghan begins, finding an unlocked window to the beach house and cracking the adjacent door open, “you paid the store so that definitely didn’t count. Secondly, trespassing is basically just stealing space. And lastly,” he announces turning around and waving to the open beach house, “this place is gorgeous and free.” 

You peer inside the house and--shit, it is gorgeous. “Fine.” You relent taking a step inside the house. He smiles triumphantly. 

“Come on,” he grabs your hand as soon as you set your things down and starts pulling you towards the beach, “time for number two.”

(2. Send A Message In A Bottle) 

“Who should we write to?”

“A friend?”

“An ex?” He grimaces at the suggestion.

“How about ourselves 10 years ago.”

You consider it. “Or what about,” you start tapping a finger against your chin, “ourselves 10 years from now.” He gives you a wary look. “Just in case this whole thing turns out to be a hoax.”

“Do you believe that?” he asks quietly. 

You bite your lip. “Not really, no.”

“To myself,” Jeonghan scribbles on the paper, “ten years from now.” 

And when you're both done with the letters, you fit them inside empty beer bottles and let the waves take them. 

Inhaling the salty ocean scent, you watch the bottles float.

“This moment would feel a lot better if I didn’t feel like we just made marine pollution worse.”

(9. Go Skinny Dipping) 

The water is freezing, cold against your bare skin and lapping by your shivering mouth. 

“It’s not that cold.” Jeonghan laughs, splashing sea water in your face. 

You splash him back. “For you maybe.” 

“Tell me a secret.” He says suddenly, stopping and treading the water in front of you. 

You think for a minute before answering. “I really like it when you sing.”

“That’s not a secret; it’s a confession.” He complains, flapping his hands in the water. With a teasing smirk, he adds, “next you’ll confess your undying love for me as well.” 

You laugh, sort of, swallowing salt water in the movement and choking on the sudden intake. 

Clearing your throat, you say, “give me an example of a good secret then.” 

“Okay,” he hums, biting his lip and swimming closer towards you until your knees awkwardly bump into each other. You swallow at the proximity. “I’ve never been in love.”

“Never?”

He shakes his head. “Have you?”

“Once.” Something in your stomach turns. “Or at least I thought I was in love.”

“And what do you think now?”

You meet his eyes. They look strangely hopeful. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

His hand comes up, fingers trailing over your shoulder blade and lingering right above your collarbone. You shiver. 

“Still cold?” He whispers. 

No, you think, but your head nods ‘yes’ before the word comes out. 

He swims back to shore. And soon after, you follow. 

(13. Fall In Love) 

You finish showering before Jeonghan, coming down the stairs of your stolen beach house and taking a seat on the stolen (but comfortable) couch. You look for the bucket list to cross out skinny dipping for him. And when you find the folded list in a pocket of Jeonghan’s bag, you realize that this is your first time seeing it since the night of its creation. You read over it carefully. 

1. ride a motorcycle 2. send a message in a bottle 3. steal something  4. sing a song loudly in public 5. wish upon a star 6. bang on the hood of a car and say ‘hey, i’m walking here!’ 7. watch the sunrise  8. watch the sunset 9. go skinny dipping 10. eat the perfect meal 11. perform three acts of kindness 12. say goodbye to our families 

And under the twelve that you and Jeonghan made together is another, additional bucket list item. Written in a different color pen and in his messy handwriting is:

13. get her to fall in love with me

“That shower felt so good.” Jeonghan’s voice comes traveling down the stairs. “I found sand in-” he stops, halts at the end of the banister upon seeing the paper between your hands. 

“What do you mean ‘get her to fall in love with me’?” You gulp, holding up the list. 

“Oh, that,” he laughs, awkwardly, slowly walking towards you, then stopping halfway as if he’s made a mistake, “I added it after you left that night. And, well, yeah.”

You stand up and go to him, meeting him halfway across the living room. “Jeonghan I-” you lose grasp of what you’re going to say next and elect to stare at him instead, studying the drop of water that falls from a strand of hair to his face. Decide instead to study the flutter of his lashes and the way his gaze darts between your eyes and your lips. He inhales. “Oh, fuck it.” you mutter finally, grabbing the collar of his tshirt and kissing him. 

It takes a second for Jeonghan to react, too long your brain convinces you already beginning to pull your face away. But it’s as your lips leave his, that they crash together again, him pulling at your hips stumbling backwards until you knock your head against the wall, bodies flush. You wrap your arms around his neck, tangle your fingers through his wet hair. There’s a moan, you can’t be sure which one of you it comes from, but the sound of it has you feeling weak somewhere, everywhere. 

“Upstairs,” you pant, when he pulls away for the smallest of seconds.

“Are you,” he pauses, lips hovering in front of yours and breath heavy against your skin, “are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, noticing the flush in his face, glad he's just as affected, “I mean it’s on the bucket list.” 

Jeonghan happily complies. 

(7. Watch The Sunrise) 

You both watch it in bed, from a window that seems to capture it perfectly. 

“It’s pretty,” he states, holding a hand up in a straggling ray and watching it turn gold in the light. 

“Only a few more left.” 

(8. Watch The Sunset) 

You watch it on the beach with a stolen towel from the stolen house under you. It’s beautiful really. A mesh of blues, pinks, orange, and purple. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunset like this one,” you say inhaling the salty scent of the sea that lingers on your arms and legs and hands. 

Jeonghan hums, absentmindedly enough for you to turn around to look at him laying on his back and playing with a loose strand from your hoodie instead. 

“We can’t cross it off if you don’t actually watch it.” You tell him, finding his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

He shrugs. “I’ve seen enough sunsets.” 

(11. Perform Three Acts Of Kindness) 

“Last item,” Jeonghan murmurs one day, settling into bed next to you, “one final act of kindness.” 

You poke at his chest. “What do you have planned for it?” 

“This.” He says, pulling out a small slip of paper. You sit up. “I bought you a ticket.” 

It takes you longer than it should to realize it’s a plane ticket home. 

“How and when did you…” your voice drops away, the logical questions slipping off your tongue when you make a new realization. “There’s only one ticket.” 

“Listen,” he starts, turning to face you properly. “I think you should take it.”

“No,” you refuse, shaking your head. He takes your face between your palms forcing you to stop and pay attention. 

“Go home and see your family. That’s what you told me you’d do before the world ends.” He hesitates, releasing your face and taking your hands in his. Something feels entirely wrong when he starts to rub small circles into the back of them. “You only have a few days left. So go home. Say goodbye to me instead.” 

“Things change,” you say a little too harshly, regurgitating what he told you earlier this week. “And I don’t know if I can go anymore.” You sputter out just barely, voice feeling suddenly course against your vocal chords, but what you mean to say is: I don’t know if I can go without you. “And besides,” you stress, putting the ticket back in his lap, “you can’t make me go.” 

“Don’t you see,” he chuckles, a small, quiet sound that has no business making you feel as warm as it does, “I’m not making you go,” he meets your eyes again, and for some reason, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that this is the last time you’ll see them like this, “I’m asking you to.” 

[ganymedesclock]

I absolutely love your Hollow Knight headcanons, and I have a question because I'm curious what your thoughts on this are: do you have any headcanons about Lemm? What's his deal, where did he come from? Furthermore, how do you think the interaction would go if he ended up meeting Quirrel at some point?

Hollow Knight is one of those exciting SpIn franchises for me where if I don’t have headcanons about a particular character I’ll string ‘em together pretty quickly because I just like the world that much.

Lemm, incidentally, I have thought about! So I’ll just toss out a sorta randomized tasting platter here under the cut.

Lemm offhandedly mentions other relic seekers but rather than a scholarly order he suggests they’d be jealous of him or compete with him, so he clearly has peers. He also tells Ghost that if they want to move into the City of Tears he’d prefer they pick an empty building AWAY from the one he’s taken over.

He’s shown to be finicky, obstinate, and argumentative- possibly other relic seekers are closer to each other than they are to him- but even when he really, really wants something from Ghost, he’s fair with them, and he is honest with them about how much each is worth. (He doesn’t try to con you on the arcane eggs, and is sincere about how much it means to him.) He also seems to actually enjoy Ghost as an audience, and like talking about it. The description for the Void Idol suggests that Ghost potentially hangs around Lemm and learns from him more than we necessarily ‘see’ in canon.

I interpret Lemm as a wholly mundane sort of bug, no magical aptitude, but as someone who is quite brawny and physically powerful. I just like the idea that in some kind of modern supernatural AU he’d be the ostensible normal everyman keeping up, frustratedly, with all of this mystical stuff happens but then they get ambushed by a zombie and Lemm just lays it out. Overall this guy’s about as much of a desk jockey as Indiana Jones- he mentions doing long treks through the city avoiding husks.

So, to spin what I imagine might be a probable backstory; he seems less like someone who’s accustomed to loneliness or isolation, but rather someone who seeks it out. Possibly grew up in a big family with a lot of siblings, or otherwise a very rowdy environment where he felt like not much room was made for his interests and passions and him having things the way he wants them. Isolation alone doesn’t make him happy, though he seems the type to insist he is (not after neighbors, and all)- really, more than anything, he wants to be listened to and feel like someone is paying attention to him, I think.

He seems to be highly educated and may be something of an elitist snob about it at first glance, but, again, feeding into a kind of defensiveness.

Possibly his interest in history is a kind of compassion? He seems obsessed with the Hollow Knight and the identity of the Five Great Knights, so his own fear of being forgotten (?) / resentment at being overlooked may be something he tries to extend to others. He seeks those who were obscured by history. He’s more cynical about the Pale King than he is about the knights, but even then, he talks about the King’s Idols like he wonders who that person was, as well.

So, yeah, I like this mental image- young Lemm coming from an aristocratic family (his character colors match those of the aristocrat husks) but an overlooked ‘middle child’ too far from the inheritance to feel like he mattered much and entering some kind of major academia institution to prove himself and seek acclaim, only to become irritated and disillusioned with that / in part make enemies for his argumentative personality- and then putting everything he had on his back and heading to Hallownest because he’s out of patience with it all.

Which leads me to... Quirrel.

Quirrel is a living relic and he is an overlooked witness to an erased chapter of Hallownest’s history- the fate of the three Dreamers, and, through them, the Hollow Knight. He’s a key witness to the exact subject of Lemm’s obsession and a record who was not really purged, even if the pieces are in disarray, and wander in and out of his recollection.

Unfortunately rather than a tablet or archive Lemm can pour over and delve into with all of his skills, Quirrel is a person with feelings and opinions, and some of them are that, as an academic, Quirrel has a very different stance to Lemm. 

Quite simply, Quirrel’s perspective seems far more transformative than curatorial. He emphasizes seeing things with new eyes and open awe. He’s happy that he forgot much of himself, even for a time, that he could experience it all new again. The past should serve the future. This seems to be a mentality he shared with Monomon, who when she herself is ‘the past’, is actively motivated and seeks to disable her protections and help Ghost end her life in order to ensure a future- the very reason she became a Dreamer in the first place.

Quirrel’s entire story is about letting go. I don’t personally read his conclusion as an act of suicide, but rather, the symbolic death of Quirrel the Archivist- the last tie he had to his former life. So he plants his nail on the shores of the lake, and leaves to be a new person- to see what comes next with new eyes. He cared about Monomon too much to not carry her with him, to not come back to see her off, but with that done, what he did as part of this ancient magical kingdom really doesn’t matter to him anymore. The people he cared about are gone. He’s going to look forwards and move on.

Assuming he encounters Lemm specifically after this point, this would scientifically speaking drive Lemm up the fucking wall.

Quirrel doesn’t tell and Lemm usually doesn’t ask but that idiosyncratic habit of just spouting off knowledge of ancient worlds and people and shrugging it off, like, well, that’s an interesting anecdote isn’t it! and Lemm is just, no, come back here you bastard don’t depart on a tangent about wrought iron infrastructure this is my lifework we’re talking about.

It’d be a certain amount of comedy but in another sense they have great potential to learn from each other. Quirrel very much surrenders unto the flow in many ways- which is powerful in that it’s probably protected him from the plague for a long time, his ability to let go rather than being tempted down dangerous paths by stray dreams- but, also, it’s clear from his voice and body language that losing Monomon cost him more than he wants to examine; his willingness to move on might be him being a bit dismissive about his own grief.

Lemm, meanwhile, has maybe spent his entire life up to this point doubling down so hard that he’s broken friendships, estranged family, and pissed off colleagues. This stuff has to matter. Someone has to listen to him. He has to know who these people are that disappeared off into the world because it isn’t just as good as they weren’t there! They knew things! They changed things! They did SOMETHING and if no one else wrote it down, he guesses that’s his job! It’s the only way he knows how to care about things.

So Quirrel lets go a little too much, including things he’s not actually over, and Lemm clings to things to such a degree that it seems to have driven him to isolation, even when he’s happier with someone to talk to about his work.

Also one of them’s a samurai and the other’s a self-taught pugilist who isn’t above cracking some skulls and shells with weighty antiques so if you happen to end up on the wrong end of both of them at the same time, heaven help you. 

Possibly, at some point, Quirrel concedes the Madam probably wouldn’t have wanted her archive to rot when the living could make use of it and starts a transcribing project and Lemm goes absolutely fucking ape.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, blood, gun shot wounds, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2588

Part 14===Part 15===Part 16

The sound of screaming voices awoke me the next morning to the sight of an empty room. The dull aching in my chest and leg only grew the more my mind woke up.

The screaming escalated, followed by a series of crashes and thumps from downstairs. I sighed, shifting to the side and almost having to roll myself into a sitting position. It wasn’t unusual to wake up to the sound of yelling, but from the way things seemed to be, this one might just actually be serious.

Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed I inhaled deeply, steeling myself to stand when the bedroom door swung open and a wild looking Jeanette and Rose bolted inside before slamming the door shut behind them.

Rose slid down the back of the door, arms folded over her knees as she leaned her head against it and closed her eyes. Jeanette inhaled, exhaling the breath slowly through her nose in a quiet whistle and humming to herself as she shook her head at the closed door.

“What’s going on out there?” I asked, wincing slightly when the two women jumped and whipped their heads around to stare at me with terrified gazes.

“Shit! You’re awake!”

“Oh thank god you’re awake!”

Their voices swirled and merged into one single unit of confusing emotions and I couldn’t help but snicker at their faces. “Okay, conflicting moment aside there. I’ll repeat, what in the ever loving fuck are those idiots up to downstairs?”

The two began talking at once, each speaking animatedly and raising their voices in an attempt to talk over the other. I raised a finger, instantly silencing them to sheepish glances between each other.

“I am...one person. With two ears, and half a brain coming down off of some pretty intense pain killers. Please...one at a time.”

Jeanette glanced at Rose who shrugged in defeat before dropping her chin to rest on her folded arms. The younger woman gave her a nod of deference to speak on the subject.

“Well...okay so like this morning when I got up everything was pretty quiet so I thought I’d go to the kitchen to start breakfast. Hobi was there balancing dishes from the dishwasher in one hand while trying to open a cabinet with the other. Your uh..Jungkook was sitting at the table kinda staring off into space when Tae came in and scared Hoseok. He dropped all the dishes and that’s what set Jungkook off. Jimin jumped in and they started screaming at Tae about some mission and well... They’ve been fighting ever since and it’s only getting worse.”

I let out a long suffering sigh, scrubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes before looking up at them. “Help me up.” 

“But…” Jeanette paused as I shook my head.

“I’ve got to get down there. Those idiots are going to kill each other and I’m the only one that can stop them.”

Rose groaned, banging her head against the door and fisting her hands through her hair. “This is all my fault…”

“That’s not true.” I grunted, shifting my weight to the edge of the bed. 

“But if I hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and they wouldn’t be fighting over it.” She groaned again, head hanging as teardrops fell to the floor.

“Tae and Jimin have been at odds for a very long time. And Jungkook...well… Kookie can be the absolute sweetest and smartest man you could meet. But when it comes right down to it the man is an actual blonde. I joke with him all the time they dipped his brain in bleach before they handed him off to his mother.”

Rose snorted, glancing up to me as she wiped her tears away. “Isn’t that all men though?”

The three of us giggled, sharing a moment of joined exasperation before sobering up as another crash echoed through the house.

“Alright, for real. Jin’s gonna cry if any more of his kitchen gets destroyed. Come on, help me up. I’ve got to end this.”

***

True to form the dumb asses were still fighting by the time we’d made it down the stairs. 

Jimin was off to the side, standing by the fridge as he screamed obscenities at Taehyung. Jungkook and Tae were on the floor, pulling at each other’s hair with their legs wrapped around one another to keep the other from escaping.

A massive bruise had bloomed just beneath Tae’s right eye and Jungkook’s lip was split and seeping blood all over.

“It’s all your fault Tae! Every time she’s gotten hurt it’s always you to blame!” Jimin screamed. He moved as if to launch himself into the scuffle but Hobi, who’d been watching from the stove reached over to stop him, effectively wrapping him in a bear hug and pinning his arms to his sides.

“Oh no you don’t Doc. We don’t need you getting hurt.”

“Let me go! Let me at him! This has been a long time coming Hobi!” The boy was basically foaming at the mouth, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled in the dancer’s hold.

I couldn’t help but sigh, knowing the only way to stop this was if I intervened. Glancing between Jeanette and Rose I shrugged them off, taking a step forward on my own and muttering under my breath. This was going to suck.

“Boys! Please! Stop this!” I yelled, internally cringing as my weight landed on my injured leg.

The offending limb buckled under the pressure, causing me to yelp out in pain as I staggered forward a half a step before falling to the ground. It was worth it though.

All activity in the room ceased. For a moment it was quiet as I lay there wheezing and whimpering in pain. And then chaos ensued.

From my vantage point I could see the boys scrambling to my side, Jungkook and Tae disentangling themselves from each other as Jimin and Hobi pushed each other out of the way in an attempt to reach my side. Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi walked into the room just in time to see Rose and Jeanette reach me first, shooing the boys out of the way as they helped me into a sitting position.

“Fuck sake. What are you all in here tearing the place up for?” Namjoon growled, giving the younger boys the stink eye as Jimin crouched at my side to check my bandages.

“They’ve been arguing for the last hour, how have you all not noticed till now?” Hobi grumped as he stood to his feet and dusted off his jeans.

“Because unlike you idiots we’ve actually been doing something.” Seokjin frowned, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“And what’s got the three of you so wrapped up in each other that you couldn’t notice the idiot brigade trying to off one another?” I huffed, pushing away the pain of my leg.

“Securing the satellite links, setting up better firewall protections for the security cameras.” Namjoon replied.

“Reinforcing the front gate, making sure our rear’s covered in terms of fortifications.” Yoongi added in.

“Adding more cameras to the sides of the house just to make sure we have every inch of the lawn and side yards covered.” Seokjin frowned, glancing at the three younger men. “I can’t believe the three of you are grown ass men. And to think one of you is in charge of giving me orders.”

He shook his head, eyes darting back and forth between them before landing on the mess that was his kitchen. It was almost comical the way his gaze went from mildly frustrated to all of a sudden full blown horror and betrayal.

“M...my… MY KITCHEN!!!”

The series of events that followed may have been comical but it certainly managed to squash the feud and rising tensions that’d settled over my boys in the time I’d been unconscious.

Jeanette and Rose managed to help me off the ground, settling me into a chair at the center island as Seokjin screamed and ranted about how ungrateful the younger men were while demanding they cleaned up their mess.

Jungkook and Taehyung actually managed to look ashamed and remorseful as they swept up the broken plates together and wiped down the counters before settling into mopping the entirety of the area. They stayed silent, barely glancing at each other or speaking until Jin tore into Namjoon who’d resigned himself to ‘helping’ cook breakfast before getting scolded about holding the knife upside down as he attempted to chop an onion.

“Ya! How can someone have such a high IQ and STILL not know the meaning for sharp side down?? All those brains and muscles and no common sense!” Jin’s face shone bright red as he screamed, barely stopping for breath as he smacked poor Namjoon over the head with a wooden spoon.

Taehyung snorted, Jungkook giggled, and after a shared look between them they burst out laughing, leaning against each other for support as they lost their minds over the sheer visual of the genius level man getting scolded by his elder.

Jimin all the while did his best to address my leg, crouching beneath the ledge of the island as he checked the skin above and  beneath the bandage.

“It hasn’t bled through, so the stitches are holding. But I really wish you would stay off it as much as possible.” He frowned up at me, tiny hands wrapped gently around my ankle as he balanced on his heels.

“I’m sorry Doc. It’s just, you all were so worked up over nothing and I just had to do something to get it to stop.” I shrugged, not sure if it was a valid enough reason for almost dislocating anything that was still left to injure.

“I mean, you could have just fired in the air or something. Thrown something at them, anything but literally throwing yourself to the ground and risking actually breaking something.”

“I could have sure. But that would have meant risking the ceiling and Yoongi’s room. Not about that life if I’m being honest.” I grinned at the doctor, earning myself an exasperated glare and a pat to my uninjured leg.

“Really, and here I thought you were the rational one in this group of misfits.” Jimin stood, brushing his pants off and then walking around the island to wash his hands at the sink.

“I may be irrational at times but at least I have the ability to forgive people.” My blunt words hit home. I could tell. He’d paused all motion, staring down at his hands as the water ran over his fingers.

I reached across, turning the sink off and folding my hands before me on the cool countertop. Patiently I waited, watching the emotions flit across his face faster than his expert fingers stitching up a wound.

“Jimin...we’re going to have to talk about this eventually.” I spoke calmly, knowing that anything could set him off if I misspoke.

“I know it’s just…”

“We were all attached. The first truly good thing to come out of all our awful work.” Pausing I focused for a moment on the tiny scrapes and scratches I’d gotten from being out in the thick of it.

“We got comfortable. All of us did. And sloppy. But Taehyung can’t be blamed for that. We were all at fault. But more importantly those bastards that kidnapped me and tried to hold me hostage were at fault.” I turned slightly, watching as the others went about their business.

“When it came down to it he had to make a choice. Yes we’re always family first but everything was on the line. Literally everything Jimin.” I turned back to him, watching the frown deepen his brow and tug that sweet face of his into a scowl. “If it weren’t for Taehyun,g half our crew would be dead or in jail. Including Namjoon and Jungkook. Do you think I’d have ever let him live it down if he had chosen any other way?”

He shook his head, tossing the towel in his hands on the counter. “No… No you’re right. You wouldn’t have. You’d have torn Daegu up, burned the whole city down.” He chuckled and I joined him, my shoulders shaking with the snickers joined between us.

“You’re not wrong. But considering the circumstances I didn’t need to do a thing. The city’s already burning.” The mood chilled at those words and we sat together in silence, watching the others fuss and fight over cooking and who was on dish duty.

“This could be the end days huh?”

Turning back to him I sighed, though the motion left me wincing at the pain in my chest. “That may be so… and if it is, if everything is ending and the world is burning...shouldn’t you go make up with your best friend?”

“...Yeah….yeah you’re right.” his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me, reaching across and giving my hand a squeeze. “Thank you for talking some sense into me.”

“Jungkook may be the brawn but we all know I’m the brains of the operation here.” I snorted at my own words. My heart warmed as I watched Jimin walk over to Tae and begin whispering softly to him.

Both men, grown as they were, became teary eyed, suddenly lunging forward and hugging each other as close as two men could.

“Damn, look at you.” Rose plopped into the chair beside me, nudging my arm as she grinned at the two now openly sobbing gangsters. “You get paid to be the family shrink?”

“Nah, they couldn’t afford me if I were to actually charge them.”

Jeanette ambled over, hand subconsciously rubbing her belly as she leaned into Rose who wrapped a gentle arm around her waist. “I don’t think even the richest man could afford your services. You really out here keeping these boys from killing each other and still surviving in this world? Absolute boss if you ask me.”

It felt good to laugh with them as we sat there. It’d been a good long while since I’d had female friends. Not that I didn’t love my boys but there was something about being around someone who got my mind without me having to say something that just felt so right.

Things settled down as we all gathered around to our meal, the chatter subdued and amiable as food was passed around in abundance. It would last us a while sure, but the idea that at some point it might run out had us all appreciating it that much more.

As I munched on my toast my mind wandered, but my thoughts were abruptly by Taehyung and Rose cheering as they jumped out of their chairs and began laughing and hugging each other.

“YAH! What the hell!” Jin demanded as he scrambled to wipe the juice he’d spilled on himself at the shock of their cheering.

“We did it!” Tae grinned, the biggest boxiest grin on his face as his ears blushed crimson from the kiss Rose had planted on his cheek.

“We managed to fix all of the security issues! Cams are on lock and all internal systems are now free of amature hour hack jobs!” Rose’s smile was infectious, cheering the whole table and causing the others to whoop and holler their appreciation for the two computer experts.

[threeletterslife]

07 | Illegirl

→ previous | next 

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, kissing/making out, (kinda??) sexual fantasies

→ wordcount: 6.2k

You need to get rid of all the memories you've had with Jimin.

It's quite simple, actually. You've broken it down into four rules.

1. Don't call him Jimin. He's merely your teacher, not friend

2. You've never ever kissed him before. In fact, let's just say you don't even meet him outside of school for whatever reason

3. You don't know anything about him except his age, name and profession. You certainly don't know anything he hides behind his pretty face

4. Lastly, you weren't his friend, you never were

Ever since the mistaken incident, all fun was stripped away from your life. Essentially, whenever Jin was away, you had Jimin to rely on, but even he was distancing himself from you. You knew it was for the better.

You see a bland pattern these days. During class, Jimin still calls on you (to ensure normal behavior), but both of you avoid eye contact. After class, you silently walk into his classroom and walk out when Jimin's ready to leave. You don't ever exchange words, even when he drops you off.

If you're absolutely forced to talk to him, you don't call him Jimin, you call him Mr. Park, because that's what he really is to you. Only friends call each other by their first names, and Jimin's just a teacher to you.

And you're just a student to him.

You count off the long days until your cousin will come back home. Every day seems to drag on and you constantly can't wait to go to bed for a short while but only to wake up again and start the shitty cycle once more.

But finally, finally, fucking finally, the day comes when your cousin will be back. You're a bit reluctant to accompany your teacher to the airport, but you don't have a car, much less a driver's license.

The car ride is awkward, just as you expected. You manage to sit still, looking out the window the whole time to avoid any chance of eye contact, running math equations in your head to distract yourself.

Of course, in the end, the uncomfortable ride was worth it.

It's Seokjin, after all.

"My baby cousin, best friend! Still alive, I see!" your cousin practically screams as he bull-runs towards you and Jimin, his suitcase basically flying behind him. That earns a few strange looks from passers.

When Jin reaches you, he embraces you in a warm hug.

"I've been living off instant ramen," you whine. "It's not fair that you don't let me get out of the house alone!"

Your cousin cocks his head as he looks between you and Jimin. "Hey, don't you two usually eat together after school?"

"We were both busy," Jimin quickly says, glancing your way awkwardly.

"For a month?" Jin questions.

"Yeah... a lot of homework," you trail off. "Mr. Park still made sure I got into the house safely every time though," you add for some good measure.

"Mr. Park?" your cousin says suspiciously, raising his eyebrows. "Since when did you call Jimin, that?"

Busted.

"Hm... did you two fight?" Jin asks, putting a warm hand on your shoulder. He looks at you meaningfully, as if trying to compel you to tell the full truth. You're not falling for that.

"Oh, of course not," you say giggle unconvincingly. "Why would we fight?"

Jimin laughs nervously. "Y/N's right. We didn't fight."

Jin looks like he doesn't believe both of you. But thankfully, he knows not to push it. "Yeah, I expect it was something like Y/N accidentally got a B on one of your tests, Jimin," he jokes, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, I missed you two," he announces joyfully, bringing in you and your teacher for a hug. "I'll treat you two to a nice dinner."

You perk up, face suddenly glowing as you smile—it felt nice to smile, actually. You haven't done it in a while. "Oh thank god," you say. "No more ramen!"

You haven't really had your fair share of awkward dinners, but goddamn, if you had a list, this dinner would be on the very top of it.

Jin is the only one who's trying to strike up a lively conversation as you and Jimin act like brain-dead zombies. You're half-expecting your cousin to give up on his attempts to crack corny jokes, but no, Jin continues on. You guess you're thankful to have him to make the dinner not a complete shitty event.

Halfway through the meal, Jimin checks his phone, his face feigning surprise. "Oh!" he says rather loudly. "Um, something came up... Er, teacher stuff. I've got to go," he says quickly, standing up. "I'll pay."

"Excuse me, Jimin, I said this is my treat. Go on ahead to your... supposed teacher meeting," Jin says, ushering his friend out with the flip of his hand.

Anyone could tell Jimin was just faking this to get the hell out of here, but none of you were actually going to mention it.

Your teacher just looks gratefully at your cousin and practically dashes out of the nice restaurant.

An awkward silence fills the air for a while.

"So... even if the two of you didn't fight, something still happened," Jin says, turning to face you fully.

"It's nothing, really."

"Nothing? Then do you care to explain why you've lost so much weight? You haven't been eating," your cousin lectures. He points at the dark bags under your weary eyes. "And you haven't been sleeping. You're slipping back to your old habits, Y/N. What happened?"

"It doesn't hurt to do some extra studying..." you mutter. "I've got all the time in the world now," you say sarcastically.

Jin sighs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Y/N," he says sternly. "How many minutes of sleep are you getting a night?"

"Forty-five," you say nonchalantly. "Don't, Jin. It used to be thirty minutes a night so you better not bring out that huge lecture again."

"I thought it was getting better..." your cousin sighs. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, and you know that."

You nod. "I know. But you're here now, right?"

Your cousin looks at you so sadly, you feel like you just might burst into tears. "Y/N, I won't always be here with you. I know I call you my baby cousin, but honestly, you've got to grow up."

His words hit you hard, only because you know he's right.

"I can't always be there to baby you, okay?" Jin says, massaging his forehead with the palm of his hand. "As of now, you're only in high school—in less than a year you'll be going to college. Life is so much more than studying. Stop using that, that shit to distract yourself from things that should mean a lot to you!" your cousin practically yells. He buries his face into his hands.

Your mouth is agape. Jin never cussed. He must be so mad. You fucked up—you've been fucking up for a while, actually.

"Jin," you say, softly shaking your cousin's shoulder. "Jin. I'm sorry."

When he looks up, you're shocked to see smudged tears dwelling on the smooth surfaces of his skin. You've never seen Jin cry—only on stage when it was scripted.

At that moment, you want to tell him everything—you've never actually hidden things from your cousin until Jimin rolled around. You want to tell him about that night Jimin was drunk and kissed you, about your crush on your teacher, how he helped you become the happiest you could be, how a month ago both of you made a huge mistake and kissed... You want to tell your cousin that you've been slipping back to your own habits because you wanted to distract yourself from thinking about him.

But you don't tell him.

"Y/N, I try, okay? I really try to make you happy. Yeah, sometimes it makes me want to rip my hair out, because god, you are such a brat at times!" he chuckles through his tears. "But Y/N, I love you. And I know, whatever has been going on between you and Jimin has been making you happier than ever. It's something I couldn't do for you, and I still beat myself up over that. But something happened between the two of you, and the happiness is gone now. You don't have to tell me anything, but just... don't go studying for hours when you face some sort of problem in your life, okay?"

Fuck, now I'm crying.

You nod, making your tears flow down your face. "Okay. I'm sorry," you manage to say. "I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish—"

Jin wipes your tears away with his soft sweater, pulling you into a tight hug right after. "It's okay. You're still learning, you're only 17. Besides, my outlet is theater. While you were practically starving yourself for a month, I was literally having the time of my life with the drama crew. Don't worry about me too much. I'm not the one who still needs to figure out what to do in life."

All you can do is nod into Jin's chest, sniffling slightly. You love him so much you can't even explain in words.

"Fix things up with Jimin, try, okay? I don't care if you end your senior year having a B, or seven F's—what matters is your happiness. Try to consider that the next time you try to starve and sleep deprive yourself," Jin says softly, his fingers sifting daintily through your hair, caressing it in a way you think a mother would do.

You hum in agreement, your head still resting against your cousin's warm chest. You want to stay like this forever.

But after a few minutes, your cousin tugs you back, smiling brightly at you. "Now, we've put on quite a show in this restaurant, haven't we?" he whispers in a giggly voice.

Whut.

It's only then when you realize this whole episode had happened at the restaurant. In public. You can feel the judging gazes of people.

Oh fuck no.

"Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!" you hiss, gripping your cousin's sweater, face colored bright red as you can't bear to look up again.

Jin laughs heartily. "But what's life without a little public embarrassment?"

He looks up to you as much as you look up to him. As your older cousin, Seokjin always feels the need to take care of you, to make sure you're doing okay. At times, he forgets that he should put himself before others. At times, he forgets that he has a life outside of taking care of you and several grubby high schoolers. At times he forgets who he even is.

But on the days that he forgets, he thinks back to what you always tell him. You, the bratty, but amazing sunshine of his life.

"Jin, you're the goofiest guy I've ever fuc—I mean, freaking met. You'd think such a goofy guy would be empty-headed. But to think that I'm wrong... You're an amazing actor. It's scary to see you on stage sometimes because you're not Jin anymore. Like I swear to fu—flopping god that you change into a completely different person!"

"Y/N, are you complimenting me, or roasting me?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm doing both. One shouldn't take too many compliments at once. It makes them big-headed."

"Well, I can't argue with you, I know that. But you really think I can act?"

"Okay, Jin, I know you can act, alright? I've seen you. Honestly, you should try pursuing it. Oh my god, if you ever get famous, write a play about me!"

Jin chuckles at the memory. He never ever liked letting you see his weak side. To you, he was always some superhero who would always crack up jokes to lighten up any dark mood, his specialty was saving awkward dinners from spiraling out of control.

But since you were deprived of the details of Jin's darker part of his life, he needed someone else to vent to: Jimin.

"Jin, you should start to worry more about yourself than Y/N. Seriously, all you do is talk about her—is she that worrisome?"

"Jimin, bro, you don't even know. She's just... different and I'm so worried about her and how's she's gonna handle you know, life."

"You know what you need to do?"

"What?"

"Take a fucking chill pill. Let the girl be. She's 17, isn't she? You've been babying her too much, you know that? The more you worry about her, the more restricted she'll feel. She'll learn by herself. Life is trial and error—you should know that."

"I—"

"Okay, and in the meantime, holy shit, man, take care of yourself. All you do is teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of—"

"I think I get the point."

"Yeah? Well, doesn't look like you get it. Jin, do something for yourself for once. What do you like to do?"

"You know, the usual. Sleep... Look in the mirror..."

"If you're not gonna be serious, I'm going to leave—"

"Fine! I like acting okay? I love it. Every year the drama team is invited for competitions and I'm never able to go, so we've been losing every time."

"I presume you can't go to take care of Y/N?"

"Yeah.. uh—"

"I'll take care of her then, buddy. You go fulfill your dream, bro; you deserve it."

"Wait, actually? For real? You'd do that? This better not be one of your jokes."

"Do I look like I'm joking? You deserve to be doing what you want, Jin. Everyone does."

Jin feels so warm inside as he recalls that memory. It was thanks to Jimin that he was able to experience the time of his life at the competition, doing the thing he loved. It had also been thanks to Jimin that you had been happy for quite the longest time.

If Seokjin didn't know any better, he'd say there was just a bit of chemistry between the two of you—it was either that or a solid friendship. But for some reason whatever was there is now gone.

You were colder, more distant than before and even Jimin had stopped laughing so often.

"I know I'm asking you this a lot these days, but are you happy, Y/N? You don't look like it..."

"That's because I'm not. But don't you dare worry about me, it makes me feel selfish. I'm going to find things out when the time comes. You know, I care about you too. And honestly, I want you to stop worrying about me because it's stunting your happiness. I'm 17, I can figure things out myself."

"Can you figure things out by yourself? For real?"

"What did I just say? Yes, I can! I'm telling you, I'm starting to get life, alright?"

Jin shakes his head, sighing. He could always see through your lies. It was painfully obvious you were just saying the things he wanted to hear. He could see the confusion in your eyes whenever you stared at Jimin, he could see how blank your stare was when you were looking at anything else.

So. Obvious.

"Y/N, are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Jimin?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Jin wasn't so sure you were sure.

The young teacher really hadn't meant to kiss you. Things had just taken an unexpected turn, and judging from your reaction, it had been an enormous mistake. It physically hurt to have lost his other best friend, but he tried hard to not let it affect his life.

He could see it affected you though.

Of course, he had noticed you had lost weight—he also noticed the growing dark circles under your usually sparkling eyes. He could see how much duller you were. He also noticed he was smiling less without you.

Jimin sighs out loud as he makes his way into his car. He really missed having you around, with your unique, spunky personality, beautiful smile and hilarious side comments.

As he's driving, he can't stop thinking about you. Your face, your laugh, god, even your handwriting—sometimes he just spends long minutes admiring your neat penmanship on your tests. He knows every single one of your writing quirks—how you take your time to put a cute little dash over your 7's, or how beautiful your 4's look compared to everyone else's.

Stop it, Park Jimin. You'll crash your car if you don't stop thinking about her.

It takes five minutes longer than it should've, but Jimin finally arrives at the local market, clutching his clear shopping bag. He painfully looks down at it. It reminds him of you.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Um... clear."

"That's not a color, Y/N!"

"Do I fucking look like I care?"

"But that's like saying your favorite fruit is a carrot."

"Wait, my favorite fruit is a carrot! Damn, how'd you guess??"

He can't help but chuckle at the memory, but he abruptly stops, remembering you two won't be able to share memories like this anymore. Sighing, Jimin trudges into the supermarket.

He's been going here a lot these days. Ever since he found out you had not just one sweet tooth, but 28 sweet teeth, he'd been trying to learn how to bake pastries, buying all sorts of ingredients to create saccharine dishes. Just for you.

It wasn't much of a miracle that the last time you had baked together didn't turn out to be a disaster. Jimin had practiced.

He loves cooking with you. You always look ethereal, hair a bit frizzy from the heat and tied back from your face with stray strands brushing against your face. Your cheeks are always flushed and somehow frosting always gets on your forehead. Even thinking about you makes all his sadness and hurt disappear into thin air.

Except, Jimin wasn't going to the store to buy ingredients to bake. He was going to buy some beer. He hadn't gotten drunk ever since he'd accidentally kissed you—the first time, that is. But he figured today, he needed it. He needs to get his mind off of things. He needs to get his mind off of you.

Jimin walks through the aisles, blank-minded, stopping only at the alcohol section. He randomly picks at a pack of beers, knowing he'll probably end up drinking it all today. He grabs it, hand hovering to place the pack in his clear bag.

But again, it reminds him of you.

"I don't know why the fuck you would ever drink. Like, does it taste good? What's the fucking point?"

"I dunno. I just kinda drink it when I want to alleviate stress, I guess."

"Well, that's stupid. You should try ice cream. That stuff makes you feel better right away and it doesn't make you go wack and do hilarious shit you'll end up regretting."

"Are you actually shading me, right now?"

"So what if I am??"

Jimin smiles at the memory. The first mistaken kiss between the two of you was such a joke—you two would always make fun of it. Why couldn't the second one be treated the same?

He sighs, clutching the pack of beer as he puts it back on the shelf. Chuckling to himself, he starts to make his way to the ice cream aisle.

Jimin scans the series of ice cream flavors to choose from. Immediately, the mint chocolate chip ice cream catches his eye, and without hesitation, he takes the tub and places it whole in his shopper.

Y/N's favorite. Jimin smiles, then starts to walk to the checkout, only pausing when he remembers he needs a new set of his favorite red pens. Nodding his head to himself, Jimin makes his way to the office supplies section of the store, scanning the shelves to pick out his favorite.

Big mistake.

As soon as he picks up the 3-pack of his much-needed red gel pens, it reminds him of grading, which reminds him of grading tests, which was exactly what he had been doing just three minutes before he and you had ruined your friendship. Your face looms in his memory.

Something stings inside. It rips his heart and then shrivels it up as if he had dumped it into highly-concentrated saltwater. Like lemon juice on a paper cut—but the paper cut was a gushing wound.

It was as if he only just realized he lost someone crucial to his happiness.

Jimin can't help but make a sour, hurt face, instantly tossing the pack of pens away from him. He doesn't want to deal with bad memories. The pens can wait.

Instead, Park Jimin finds himself wandering back to the alcohol aisle, absentmindedly buying an even larger pack of beers, setting it next to the tub of ice cream. There's enough room in the kitchen for both anyways.

His thoughts are completely blank as he drives home. It's as if the rush of pain he'd felt earlier had hurt so, so much he was now immune to it. It was numb.

He reaches his house, setting down the beer and ignoring the ice cream that would surely melt if kept out in the open; he pauses in his steps, hand midway through raking his hair back. All because he sees his couch.

You loved that couch. Actually, you practically lived on it whenever you came over, insisting to even eat dinner seated on it because "it's fucking comfortable."

When you sleep over, taking his bed, he sleeps on that same couch where he can smell your soothing scent. It lulls him to sleep.

But then comes the fantasies.

"Someone will hear!"

"Let them hear."

"God, Jimin, you have no fucking morals," you breathe shakily. "What if Jin walks in?"

"Jin? Walk in? In my house?" Jimin laughs hotly against your neck. "You're just making excuses, baby girl."

"Why would I make excuses?" you say weakly, gripping the hem of his shirt. "I want this just as much as you do."

"Oh?"

Jimin hums as nuzzles the sensitive part of your neck with his nose.

"R-really, Jimin? But here?" you stutter as your eyes automatically close and your mouth parts.

"We'll take it to the couch, love," he answers, sweeping you up in a smooth fashion and softly laying you on the couch before making his way on top of you.

Your body is enveloped by the plush couch and Jimin whose legs are on either side of your hips. He dips in unhurriedly, his tongue touching your lips before his. You wrap your arms around his neck as Jimin cups your face with both hands, kissing you slowly.

Lips still attached, you tug at the hem of his button-up shirt, and Jimin takes the hint to slowly start unbuttoning it. You shift below him to help him with his buttons and before long, his shirt is off and discarded somewhere on the floor. Only then do you move apart from each other's lips.

You marvel at his fit body, reaching to run your cold fingers across his toned muscles. Jimin doesn't give you enough time to continue your sightseeing as he pushes you back down, playing with the bottom of your t-shirt. He gives you a seductive look as you practically melt under him.

"Why don't we take this off too?"

"J-Jimin..."

Wait a fucking minute. This isn't right.

Jimin sighs loudly as he gives his head a little shake as if it would erase him of that rather inappropriate fantasy. At least he's glad it was one of the more innocent imaginations he's had of you.

But now he feels more broken than ever. You're something he can't have, your relationship only exists in the depth of his mind, hidden away from judgment. Jimin sighs again, ripping open the pack of beers and taking one. It's not even cold, but at this point, he doesn't care.

He just wants to forget.

On second thought, he grabs the whole pack and takes it with him to the kitchen, setting it down, choosing one and cracking it open in one swift move. It's a familiar, refreshing feeling.

Jimin raises the can to his lips, waiting to feel the rush of the bitter contents on his tongue. But he freezes.

He's thinking of you again. It's as if his brain can't function without thinking of you so often. Yet this time, it's not the thought of you, it's the sight. Jimin sees your smiling face, the way your sweet lips part to reveal your smooth teeth in a brilliant grin. He can't but to smile to himself as well.

Almost immediately, he sets the beer down.

Maybe... Maybe you might not want to be friends anymore, but Jimin knows that he does. He figured that's all it takes to make him happy. If the thought of you can make him content, make him choose the right decisions, then he'll just have to continue thinking of you.

He's sorry he moved in to change a friendship into a relationship so fast, and he might just regret it, but in the end, he's glad he's met you.

Jimin slowly picks himself up to grab the tub of your favorite ice cream, scrounging for a spoon. The first bite is heavenly, wonderful and phenomenal.

Just like Y/N.

He shakes his head as he takes another scoop, placing it in his mouth to melt slowly.

Damn. I'm so whipped for her.

You sift heavy textbooks around in your arms, fumbling with your lock before getting it open. Throwing the books in, you sigh as you slam your locker shut. These days, you had lost interest in a lot of things you used to like—school included. Things just seemed so bland. You didn't ever feel like socializing with anyone, forcibly dragging yourself to class every single day.

"Hey, Y/N!" a familiar voice calls as you whip your head around to respond.

"Oh, Jungkook!" you reply, "ah, and Yoongi, Taehyung..." Immediately, guilt courses through your veins. You'd been ditching them during lunch for quite some time now, ignoring their frequent 'where are you?' texts. They'd come to confront you for sure.

"Were you sick?" Jungkook asks as he reaches you. "I didn't see you in school for a while."

"I bet you happened to drop your phone in the toilet as well," Yoongi snarks.

Taehyung coughs awkwardly. "Since you haven't been answering our texts."

"Well, I—" you sigh. How are you supposed to tell them you've been wanting a lot of alone time these days without brutally mutilating their feelings? The answer was too obvious.

"Uh, yeah I was sick. And yeah, I kinda drowned my phone in the toilet," you say. Lies. "I'm sorry if you worried."

"Damn, did you drop your phone in the toilet after you used it, or before?" Yoongi laughs, earning an elbow to the ribs from his truly, Jungkook.

"You don't have to be sorry, Y/N," the sweet math nerd muses, giving Yoongi a dirty look. "We're sorry you haven't felt well. You're better now, right?"

You stand there awkwardly, not wanting to engage in a full-blown conversation. Your daily dose of alone-time was calling, and you desperately wanted to succumb to it.

"Yeah... um, I'm okay, been better. Sorry, I kinda have to go..." you fib. "Um, doctor's appointment?" It sounds more like a question than a solid lie but it'll do for now. "See you sometime later, I guess."

Turning around, you quickly walk away, faintly hearing confusedly murmured goodbyes from your friends. You speed around a corner, finding refuge in the girl's bathroom. Setting your things down in the big stall, you sigh, sitting down on top of your backpack.

It almost feels like the old days.

Except back then, you didn't have to ditch your friends for solitude because you had none. In a way, you feel slightly guilty. Your friends just wanted to hang out with you, it was that simple. But surely, if you hung out with them, you'd ruin the fun and the happy mood.

It's better to not meet them at all than meet them and remember bad things.

It's an upgrade, you think. You used to be afraid that others would hurt you. Now you're afraid you'll hurt others.

Some kind of upgrade.

It's even worse with the situation you have at hand (ahem, the Jimin one). You rarely lift your head up in class, flinching just slightly when he calls your name to solve a problem. It's harder than you think. To get rid of a crush, that is.

Not only that, but it's also wrong to be infatuated with your teacher. You just don't know what to do anymore. Jin didn't buy your feigned happiness—well, any idiot could tell you weren't as content as before. And now you've got a handful of people worrying, fussing over you of all others.

Why couldn't they just leave you alone?

No, that's stupid.

Deep inside, you want them to care, to worry for you. It gives you a feeling that you're not so alone.

"Y/N? You little liar!" a masculine voice screams from the entrance of the girl's restroom.

"Oh shit," you breathe. That was definitely Taehyung. Fuck. Just stay quiet, it's not like they can—

"We're coming in!" Yoongi yells, making the blood drain out of your face.

"Wait, guys!" Jungkook pleads. But it's too late. Yoongi and Taehyung barge into the girl's bathroom, rattling stall doors. Thank goodness you know for a fact no other girls were in here.

Before Yoongi or Taehyung can break down the stalls, you quickly unlatch your door, coming face to face with the two students.

"Ha! I knew you were in here!" Taehyung declares. "Jungkook swore he saw you go to the restroom and not to the office!"

"Doctor's appointment, huh?" Yoongi smirks.

"Well, I—"

"Save it. Jungkook, you little brat, get in here! Stop being a wimp!" Yoongi yells at the top of his lungs.

"Yoongi, will you quiet down? This is the girl's restroom," you hiss.

"But if this is the place you choose to eat your lunch at, we'll be here by your side," Jungkook says, smiling as he timidly walks in the stall. He looks alert as if anyone could open the door to the restroom and catch three teenage boys in a bad act, (which was perfectly plausible).

You don't know how in the hell you're supposed to respond to this. This. This is what friendship should be, isn't it? You'd never really known until now. It's such a beautiful, heartwarming feeling.

"Actually, JK, my man, you can be by her side, Yoongi and I have some business to take care of," Taehyung giggles has Yoongi links his arm around his.

"Wait, huh? That wasn't the pl—"

"Buh-bye!" Yoongi sings, waving his fingers at you and Jungkook as he and Taehyung strut out of the bathroom, not once looking back.

You and Jungkook are completely stunned into silence.

"Wow, they're really out to get us, huh?" you finally say, laughing under your breath.

"Y-yeah," Jungkook agrees quickly. "Listen, Y/N," he turns to you, the surprising sternness in his voice hinting that he was being extremely serious. "I understand you like your alone time, maybe a bit more than others. But sometimes the most dangerous, harmful and hurtful thoughts come when you're in solitude."

He's right and you know it.

"Aw, Jungkook, don't worry, I'm fine!" you say in the most lighthearted way you can. You chuckle sourly inside. No, I'm not.

"Y/N, you're not fine," Jungkook sighs. "For the longest time, I thought you weren't hanging out with us during lunch because... because you hated me or something. But now, I think there's something going on in your life that's hurting you, keeping you from being the better you."

You're speechless.

"Do you have anything to tell me?"

You do.

"I don't."

"Y/N, it's a burden to tell others every single detail of your life and problems, but it's also a burden to not say one single word about it," Jungkook says. "I don't know anything about you except that you like math... I want to know more about you, what goes on in your life, what problems you have. I want to help you."

It's then when you know you've been a mystery to Jungkook. You know a shit ton about him from your friendly talks, but you never talk about yourself. You realize you had only ever told Jimin everything that went on in your life. He was the one who could possibly know you better than Jin, himself. Jimin.

His name echoes in your head, but it feels so empty and dark.

You hadn't even known you were crying until Jungkook wordlessly wipes your tears away with the hem of his sleeve. He softly pats your back, then hesitates before he leans in to embrace you. Something about that makes you start crying. Too bad it's the ugly kind.

Jungkook seems a bit taken back at your sudden burst of tears, but he only holds you tighter, rubbing warm circles in your back. The best part about it is that he doesn't say a single word. He gives you time to cry your heart out, giving you company when you should feel so lonely.

You hiccup, leaning back from Jungkook's chest but still in the warmth of his embrace. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't... I'm so sorry," you blubber. Damn. Why the fuck—

"Unrequited love?" Jungkook asks softly.

You give him a strange look. "I guess you could say that..."

"Thought so," he mutters. "But he loves you back," he declares confidently.

Your head jerks up and you take a second before you start to laugh, the last of your tears dripping down from your chin to the ground. "How would you know?"

"You're Y/N. Everyone loves you back," Jungkook says, grinning. He dabs at your wet cheeks with his sleeve.

"And you're supposed to say that because you're my friend," you chuckle. "Trust me. It's not even 'love.' It's a little crush that I shouldn't even have had in the first place," you explain. "I'll be fine."

Jungkook smiles. "I trust that you will be." He's about to say more, but you hear the restroom door swing open as a few loud, gossipy girls come in.

You quickly tug Jungkook into the stall with you, locking the door. "Oh shit!" you whisper, grabbing at your friend's shirt.

"That was close!" Jungkook chuckles quietly. He smiles at you, and it's so contagious that you can't help but smile back.

You finally realize that you're not alone, that you shouldn't be alone. There are people willing to listen, to help you. There are people willing to break school rules and hang out in the girl's restroom with you, for goodness sake. You need to get over this 'unrequited love' and focus on the better things.

It took you a good ten minutes to escape the girl's restroom with Jungkook safely—curse high school girls who like to gossip their mouths off when they should really be flushing down their business. The two of you spent the rest of lunch casually talking as if you hadn't broken down crying not too long ago. It felt good to talk to someone. Especially since you've been so focused on shutting people out these days.

Now you're in the best mood you've been in months as you practically skip to Jin's drama classroom.

"Today's been a wonderful day!" you belt out singing as you swing open the door, twirling dramatically into the classroom. Looking up from your little happy dance, the color from your face drains as you see Jin and Jimin staring at you in shock.

Okay. I was expecting Jin. But Jimin? Really?

You're so embarrassed. All the mirth from before had officially been drained away.

Jin's the first one to break the silence as he laughs heartily. "A wonderful day? That's great, Y/N! Did Jungkook confess?" he teases.

You roll your eyes. "No!"

Your cousin wiggles your eyebrows at you as from the corner of your eye, you can see Jimin looking down at his shoes. Your heart stings at the sight.

"Yeah, um, so... Let's go home?" you awkwardly suggest, tightening your grip on your backpack.

"Oh right... About that," Jin chuckles nervously. "Jimin's taking you home today."

The light in your eyes extinguishes immediately. "He can't!" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jimin looks up at your sudden outburst, your eyes meeting.

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

Jin cocks his head. "Don't worry, Y/N, he's not going to crash the car or anything," he laughs. Your eyes plead at your cousin. "Sorry, for the late notice, Y/N. I have some team meeting I have to go to. Now, behave yourself! I'll be home in a few hours. Bye!" Jin gives you and Jimin an equally goofy grin as he sashays out of his classroom, happily waving his hand as a final goodbye.

You internally groan. This was going to be so bad.

—previous | next 

—masterlist

[asleepinawell]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day! I normally don't comment on fics or message fic authors (mostly because I don't feel like I have anything to contribute aside from praises and thank yous and that would probably get really annoying fast) but I'm rereading STC for the 4th time and it's just been giving me the best feels so prepare for praises sung before.

You are without a doubt my favorite fic author. You write s o well and are incredibly prolific. Thank you so much for sharing your work.

I've read all your shoot fics except for the zombie au and gideon the ninth au. For the zombie one, I've been saving it because I'm a sucker for zombie aus ^_^' I know I would just love it and so I'm saving it for the *perfect* time. For GTN, I still need to read the book! And I'm also saving it (both the fic and book).

I'm torn between wanting to be on top of your updating so as to comment on every chapter to shower you with much deserved praise or just not, because already so many do and again, you might get annoyed and that's the last thing I want to happen..

ANYWAY, I've been rambling, I am so sorry. I wanted to ask, do you have any stories being written currently? Not trying to pressure you or anything (you don't owe us anything!) ... and there's need to answer really, honestly just wanted to say my thank yous and praises. You've made my life and this quarantine thing a little bit bearable.. and I'm getting teary so I'll stop here. Take care of yourself. Stay safe. :)

P.s I don't go on tumblr usually so I hope I did this message correctly.. Sorry if I did not.

thank you so much! this was a lovely message to get especially after a long work day. really glad you enjoy all my fics so much and I hope you like the zombie one when you read it. and you should definitely read gtn before my fic au of it. very much worth reading the original book without any spoilers.

it's funny, I was just thinking about how it's been almost 5 years since I started writing stc and it was the fic that pulled me into actively participating in the shoot fandom which changed my life in a lot of good ways and let me meet people I'm now close friends with. so it has a special place in my heart for that even though every time I try to reread it I'm just like hmm I feel like I've improved as a writer since writing this and could do this better. I'm glad so many people enjoyed it and continue to enjoy it.

I currently don't have any stories I'm working on, partly because I've been crazy busy at work recently and partly because I don't have any big story idea kicking at my brain that I need to write. I've mostly just been reading in my free time lately and I've had a few ideas for an original story but nothing solid yet. But fic inspiration can strike at any time, so maybe I'll have an idea to work on soon! (or I'll finally go back and finish the space western fic 😭)

thank you again!

[svtxsoju]

01. crush that hangover! | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 5.0k words  ღ Binu’s Note: ever stare at a selfie so long that it looks weird? ya that’s this chapter for me. there were just so many elements that i wanted to get right, but i kept changing things and now i can’t look at it anymore :c i’ll properly proofread it later, but for now enjoy!! i have some other content ima post later so i’m p excited for that hehehe anyway ya happy friday!!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Monday, September 2, 2019 9:05AM

This was not how Joohyun had imagined her first day at The Front. Whenever she described this moment to Jihoon, she was very clear about the way she would walk in so confidently that the senior writers would wonder why they forgot to email her an invite to their 8:30 meeting. Jihoon, who relished in raining on her parade, predicted that they wouldn’t even know her name. But she had no time for his blunt realism, because she had been living as a made-up person since June and her corporate daydreams were the only things keeping her sane. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she figured that once they saw her talent, everything would be just fine.

So it’s not difficult to imagine Joohyun’s distress when she just barely stumbled into the office this morning, nursing a mind-melting hangover. 

She should have known she would be a goner when the sports section interns had challenged her to a drinking game at last night’s welcome party. Her drinking partner, a small girl interning at HR, had only made it two shots in before falling asleep on her lap. For the record, she had still made sure that she was the last intern standing (although she definitely wasn’t the same bright-eyed freshman that could chug a pitcher of soju and beer just to spite Jihoon). Looking around the office, she felt a little relieved to find that the other interns were suffering just as much as her, if their slumped positions and pained groans told her anything. So much for giving a good first impression.

Joohyun was trying her best not to look like she was two steps from an early grave when she was approached by a big woman with a laptop in her arms. She awkwardly bowed her head to greet her, but the woman’s gaze never left the screen of her Macbook. “Miss… Joonyoung?”

“Oh, that’s not--” 

“You’re the new advice column intern, correct?” 

“Oh. Yes, that’s me, but that’s not my--” 

“I’ll show you to your desk.” Without so much as a glance, the woman turned on her heel, now typing furiously on her laptop. Joohyun followed behind glumly.

This was all Jihoon’s fault. 

“So, how’s your first day going?” Jihoon asked over his bowl of ramen. He flagged down the tall waiter and ordered a bowl of rice.

“Fine,” was Joohyun’s curt answer. In truth, it was far from ideal. She had watched longingly as all the other interns were assigned with their first projects, while she was left with an empty inbox. How was she supposed to write an advice column when there was no one asking her for advice? She spent most of the morning familiarizing herself with the previous entries of The Front’s dating advice column, the most recent of which dated to the newspaper’s May issue… from 1997. 

When her supervisor told her to take a lunch break, she had made a beeline to meet Jihoon at the restaurant near the cafe he worked at. Now that she was sitting in front of him though, she wasn’t quite ready to confess that her dream job was much more mundane than she expected. “Hey, wasn’t this a fried chicken shop last semester?” 

“That bad, huh?” Jihoon clicked his tongue. Joohyun sighed - she didn’t know why she even tried to hide anything from him when he’s known her for 12 years. He probably knew some parts of her better than she did. “Come on Joo, don’t give up on Miss Soju so easily. It’s just because you’re a little hungover. We watched The Notebook like five times this summer! What more do you need to know about true love? Do you want me to set you up on another date with that freakishly tall dude for more hands-on experience? Ah, speak of the devil!” 

“Thanks, Mingyu.” Joohyun took the bowl of rice and gave the server a sweet smile, which greatly contrasted with the glare she shot at Jihoon soon after. The server, a stunning boy with jet-black hair and tanned skin, stuck his tongue out at Jihoon. She waited until Mingyu went to the other side of the restaurant to serve a rowdy group of boys to whisper-shout at Jihoon. “Can you try not to expose my identity to the whole campus before I even get the chance to write my first ever entry?” 

“Ohhh, that’s why you’re sulking. No one’s sent you a letter yet so you didn’t get to do anything today,” Jihoon said. It sometimes got annoying how he could read her like she was his worn-out copy of his favorite sports manga.  She had to admit though, he did find ways to make it worth it. Like when he said, “I might actually be able to help you with that one, if you want. I can make a little shout out for Miss Soju on my stream tonight. For a small price, of course.” 

“You’re streaming tonight?” The girl perked up from poking at her noodles. Over the past three years, Jihoon had built up a cult following through Woozi’s Universe, a Twitch stream where he shared music made by the underground artists on campus (including him). He only ever released new music on Mondays, so tonight would definitely have a large viewership. Joohyun immediately went into her business pose lest she show how eager she really was. “Well, what would you like in exchange, Mr. Lee?” 

“I merely request that you pay for my lunch today, Ms. So,” he replied. Joohyun looked in horror at Jihoon, a petite man who ate like he was three boys going through puberty; today alone he had had an extra-large bowl of ramen, three orders of rice, and two cans of Coke. 

Then, she imagined facing an empty inbox for the rest of the week. Yup, this was  definitely worth it. That didn’t stop her from making a show of taking out her wallet, taking care to sigh extra  loudly. She had to give Jihoon his moment to revel in his triumphs, otherwise he would get grumpy. 

Jihoon cackled giddily. “Pleasure doing business with you as always, Ms. So.” 

“Pretty sure my hangover is coming back.”

“Oh shit, shut up!” Jihoon suddenly yelped and ducked underneath the table.

“What the hell, Jih--” 

“No, don’t say my name! He might hear you and then I’ll have to talk to him,” Jihoon whispered, jerking his head towards a bright yellow blur skipping to the back of the restaurant. “He’s one of my fans. He found out I worked at the cafe and now he keeps coming in to talk to about how sad his sex life is.”

Joohyun pursed her lips and peeked a glance over. He had joined the table of rowdy boys.  “Hmm, maybe I should say hi... he seems like a potential Miss Soju reader.” 

“Just pay the check already, woman!” 

The new interns at The Front were not the only students sporting hangovers that day. This can only be expected of the second week back at MU. Sunday night had been the explosive finale of a full week of department welcome parties, happy reunions, and lots and lots of alcohol. Some of the incoming freshmen were convinced that Mansae University was not actually a school, but a training ground for surviving as many shots of soju as physically possible. That is until they woke up on Monday morning and still had to drag themselves to their 9AM’s, suddenly faced with the reality of what college really was: an endless cycle of perpetual hangovers and school work that’s due way too soon. 

This was all good news for the new ramen shop on campus, which had been serving the hoards of hungover zombies since 10AM. Vernon, who was in great pain from the night before, had been ambushed by his roommate after his morning class. He was brought to the restaurant under the pretense of curing his woes with a bowl of warm soup and noodles. When he caught sight of a man in red waiting for them at a back table though, he immediately knew what was actually coming. 

“Hello Vernonnie,” Seungcheol greeted him with a sly smile. “Care to take a seat next to me?”

“Uh, not really,” Vernon mumbled, but he sat down anyway. He scrunched his nose at his roommate as the boy slumped into the seat in front of him. “Traitor.”

“Sorry babe, Seungcheol hyung promised me free lunch. Also, you’re one to talk, after you abandoned me to fend for myself last night--! Ugh,” his roommate, Seungkwan, clutched at his head, where a rusty hammer persistently tapped away at his temple. “Hyung, why did you do this to me? My face is gonna be bloated for the rest of the week. I have an audition in two days, you know!” 

“Hey, I did ask you if you were sure you wanted-- what was that you ordered? Oh yeah-- ‘the strongest drink that is legal to serve in South Korea’!” Seungcheol said, his eyes wide. As he got more defensive, he began to point his finger excessively at Seungkwan. “And what was it all for? To impress your new crush?” 

“I am way too hungover to get lectured by a couple of hypocrites,” Seungkwan grumbled. “I was trying to get some inspiration, you know, a drunken spark of genius! How else am I supposed to figure out how to confess to them?”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually asking,” Seungcheol ignored Seungkwan’s offended gasp in favor of turning his attention to a fidgeting Vernon. His cherry red lips now returned to its wide grin. “I am here to discuss where our dearest Vernon went off to last night.” 

“Um.” Vernon answered with a nervous smile. “I just went home early--”

“Bullshit!” Seungkwan looked absolutely scandalized. “It wasn’t enough to abandon me, so now you’re lying too? I don’t know if I can take much more of this!” 

Vernon had only officially known Seungkwan for two whole weeks, but with the way the two had been inseparable since move-in day, everyone at the freshmen dorms had assumed that they had known each other for years and years. He knew that someone like Boo Seungkwan was a rare find as far as random dorm assignments went, and that not everyone was so lucky to have a roommate that reminds them to eat real food once in a while or a friend who’s willing to take care of them when they get their first real hangover. Just for that day alone, Vernon knew that Seungkwan deserved to know where he went. Plus he shared a room with him, so it’s not like he could hide anything anyway.

Seungcheol shook his head and slung an arm around Vernon’s shoulder. His grip wasn’t tight but firm enough that Vernon knew he was trapped there until he confessed the truth. “Look, I don’t need any details! I just wanted to make sure that you’re staying safe and all that junk. Also, I would like to know what base you got to.” He erupted into a fit of giggles, but soon cleared his throat to return to his investigation. “Really though, tell us what happened.” 

It wasn’t like Vernon didn’t want to tell Seungcheol either. Vernon’s and Seungcheol’s families had known each other since the two boys were in middle and high school, and when he found out that Seungcheol would be a senior at Mansae University that year, he felt some of his nerves ease up about moving out. Seungcheol had always been like an older brother to him, and was always there when he needed his help in high school. He trusted him! 

That’s probably why he subconsciously blamed Seungcheol for the pain he was going through at the moment. When the upperclassman had offered to sneak Vernon and Seungkwan into a party at the karaoke bar that he bartended at, the two freshmen all too eagerly accepted without thinking of any consequences. They had received no pointers, no words of caution. How were they supposed to know that bar parties were completely different from welcome dinners? And how was Seungkwan supposed to know that downing so many cocktails within the hour wasn’t a good idea? Most importantly, how was Vernon supposed to know that he would meet someone like her there? Vernon groaned into his hands as he could no longer resist the flood of memories from the night before, and leaned into Seungcheol’s shoulder as he tried to recoil from his past self. “Hyung, it hurts too much to say out loud.”

“It’s okay buddy, take your time,” Seungcheol patted his head gently and called the tall server over. Vernon continued to let out unintelligible noises of regret while the senior ordered bowls for all three of them. “How are you even hungover right now? I only remember giving you one drink last night before you went off with--”

“I’m not hungover.”

“Oh. Then what are you?”

“An idiot,” Vernon mumbled through his fingers. “A big, cringy idiot.” 

Seungkwan raised his hand, looking frantically between the two boys. “Excuse me? Did I miss the reading homework? Went off with who? Last night? What? How drunk was I?!” 

“Very drunk, but that’s not why you didn’t notice Vernon’s new friend. You were a little occupied with your own conquest,” Seungcheol stage-whispered from across the table. “Honestly, you two are wild. It’s only two weeks into fall semester and you’re already out here simping.”

“Um, and? I saw you making googly eyes at several ladies last night!” The higher Seungkwan’s voice rose, the harder the rusty hammer banged inside his head. “Ow.”

“Those were just my friends who happened to be ladies! Sorry that my eyes are just naturally soft and alluring,” Seungcheol said, batting his long, dark lashes at the boy. “What were her eyes like, Vernon? I only noticed that she had a nose ring. Couldn’t really see her properly while you two were ‘talking’ in the corner...” 

“The corner! A nose ring!” Seungkwan repeated and clutched at his chest. “Tell me more.” 

“We were just talking!” Vernon finally spoke, his face stuck in an embarrassed grimace. “There’s not really much more to tell. I just know that she’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met and I’ll never meet anyone like her again.”

“What! You two were talking for like two hours! And I saw you leaving with her!” Seungcheol said a little too loudly for Vernon’s liking. The server gingerly approached their table with their orders, setting the bowls down as quickly as possible before rushing away. Vernon noted to give him a big tip when they left. “Don’t tell us that’s all.”

“I just dropped her off at her apartment and went back to the dorms,” Vernon confirmed to Seungcheol’s horror. “I really didn’t want it to be just last night.”

“So... you asked her out?” 

“No.”

“You got her number?”

“No.”

“Her Instagram? Her Twitter? Her student ID number? Do you even know her name?” 

“I already said I was an idiot,” Vernon whined. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it. But yes, I did at least get her name.”

It was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. She was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. The way her eyes had lit up while they talked about her major. The way her lips had curved into a clever smile when she told a joke. The way her small hand had fit in his as they walked to her apartment. Then, he would remember how he completely fucked it all up before he started, and his headache would return full-force. 

“Dude.” Seungcheol fixed him with a stern stare, but it was kind of hard to take him seriously when his mouth was full of noodles. “Have you never asked a girl out before?”

“You know I have! I don’t know what happened either, okay? I guess I just froze up when she looked at me… then I just went home after telling her good night.”

Seungcheol feigned a gag. “Gross. I was joking earlier, but you’re an actual simp. Hate to break it to you like this.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Seungkwan piped up from where he comfortably rested his head on the table.

“That’s nice, Seungkwan, but ‘sweet’ isn’t gonna get either of you laid,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Vernon, your girl was clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Trust me, girls don’t just ask anyone to walk them home.”

“I didn’t want to look like a creep!” Vernon sullenly stared down at his untouched bowl of noodles. “What am I supposed to do now, hyung?”

“Yeah, lend us your wisdom, O Alluring One,” Seungkwan chanted. “You clearly have plenty of experience from the past three years. 

“Like I said, I just have a lot of friends,” Seungcheol shrugged, then suddenly checked the time on his phone. “Oh shit--  speaking of friends, I have to meet one for a study session at her apartment in 15 minutes.”

“Sounds nasty.”

“Your mom’s nasty,” Seungcheol retorted with a provocative smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Boo! Then maybe you’d be able to think of how to confess.”

“Uncalled for!”

He placed several bills on the table and checked his phone again. “This should be enough to cover lunch, kiddos. I wish I could help you two, but I’m booked for the rest of the day. And the week.”

“But what if I meet her again?” Vernon asked desperately. 

“Then text me! I might not reply right away though. I’ve got two classes later and then I have dinner plans--”

“Another girl I presume--”

“Shut up! I also have to go to the gym before doing… uh, doing a thing. And then I have a shift at 24H.” Seungcheol stood up and looked at the distressed boys before him, his soft eyes more affectionate than alluring. Was he like this as a freshman? He reached over to ruffle the freshmans' heads. “You two should probably leave soon, too. I’ll see y’all later!” 

And just like that, Seungcheol was gone, and Vernon was once again left without any advice from the senior. Vernon was never one for dramatics, but his personal failures felt like a gray cloud of shame hanging over him. He began to worry that he was just gonna have to live like this forever, because nothing in the world was bright enough to break through his doom and gloom (well, her smile probably could, but Vernon was never going to see that again). The fact that Seungkwan seemed like he was about to Train to Busan his ass any minute now didn’t really lift his spirits either.

Lucky for him, the universe was not going to let him give up so easily. At that moment, a boy with glaringly yellow hair and a heavy camera on his shoulder bursted through the entrance. His smile brightened when he spotted the two boys in the back and he didn’t hesitate to bound towards them, skipping right past the server welcoming him in. “Seungkwan! I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dearest Vernon, it seems we have been joined by the lovely Soonyoung hyung. Perhaps he might know the medicine we require to ease our ailments in love,” Seungkwan suddenly stood up, all signs of his hangover expertly hidden. He smiled directly into the camera lens. “Hyung, would you kindly share your wisdom with us lowly freshmen? Pray tell, how does one woo the object of their affection?”

Vernon, who was well-acquainted with Seungkwan’s antics by then, watched on in silent amusement. If anything could distract him from his internal turmoil for a moment, it was Seungkwan; even if he was just spewing nonsense. What really made him crack up though, was the way Soonyoung (that was his name, right?) was clearly trying very hard to suppress his giggles. “Um,” Soonyoung managed to  cut in breathlessly. “You know I’m not rolling, right? Also, I didn’t understand any of the words that just left your mouth, but it definitely felt like you were putting some sort of ancient curse on me. Hi, I’m Soonyoung by the way!”

Vernon introduced himself and shook Soonyoung’s hand. Seungkwan could only sigh in exasperation at Soonyoung’s lack of culture (not that he was surprised of course). The boy apparently thought it was a good fashion choice to leave his apartment wearing a tiger print button-up. “I was  asking if you could help us out with confessing to our crushes,” Seungkwan said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Ohh, that’s what you said!” Soonyoung laughed until he was keeled over, clutching his stomach. Vernon and Seungkwan could only watch him with great expectation. When the boy finally caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, he gave the boys a very serious look. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten any since January. So you should probably ask someone else.” 

This also did not surprise Seungkwan. 

“Excuse me?” The tall server approached them again, clearly giving them his best ‘I hate working in retail’ smile. “If y’all are done eating, could you please leave? You’re disturbing the other customers.” 

“I’m eating, I’m eating!” Soonyoung smiled until his cheeks reached his eyes, a power move that he saves for occasions where he found himself in trouble, which happened more often than he’d care to admit. Once the server let them be, muttering something about not getting paid enough, Soonyoung turned his killing smile onto the two boys. “Can I have some of this? I can Venmo y’all later, I’m pretty broke right now.” 

Vernon pushed his uneaten ramen towards Soonyoung, who looked at him as if he was the sun itself. The boy carefully set down his film camera and immediately began slurping away. Vernon nodded his head towards the contraption and asked why he was carrying it around.

 “Oh, I rented it before coming to find Seungkwan. I’m thinking about making him the subject of my film project this semester, since the theater program is pretty buzzed that he’s joining this year!” Soonyoung patted the camera affectionately.

“‘Thinking about?’ I thought I was your final choice!” Seungkwan blurted. The ramen he had for lunch seemed to have finally restored some of his strength, because he no longer clutched at his temple when his voice rose.

“I said ‘most likely’ choice! I just want to keep my options open,” Soonyoung responded with great care. He didn’t want to hurt Seungkwan’s feelings, but he was definitely re-evaluating alternate subjects at the moment.  “It’s only the second week!”

“This is why you’re single,” the theater major said in a huff. “Lack of commitment!”

“Hey! I am perfectly capable of commitment. It’s the girls that don’t want to commit, ” Soonyoung said in a small voice, and looked off into the distance wistfully. “I really hope Woozi does put out a new song tonight. Maybe he’ll tweet something soon.” 

“Woozi? Who’s that?” Vernon asked. At this point, he was just looking for anything that would fend off his memories, which lingered at the edges of his mind and waited for moments of silence to bring him another fresh glass of cringe. He was pretty sure that he had experienced well above the recommended daily serving. 

“Oh, he’s a Twitch streamer from MU! I was actually gonna say if you two are really struggling in the love department, you should definitely check out his stream tonight.” Soonyoung nearly wiggled with enthusiasm. “He usually promotes songs from artists around the area, but his self-composed songs are my personal favorites. They’ve been what’s getting me through this dry spell, honestly.”

“Oh, that sounds pretty cool.” It sounded like it was right up Vernon’s alley, actually. 

Soonyoung nodded. “You listen to them and you just feel hopeful to find the kind of love he sings about. I’ll send you the link later!” 

“Underground artists? No thanks, I think I’ll stick to Eva Noblezada,” Seungkwan scoffed. “I don’t really think a stranger can help me with my problems. They don’t even know me.” 

“Oh come on, Kwan. Let’s just give it a shot!”

Even after all his grumbling, Seungkwan still sat beside Vernon at one of the desks in their dorm later that night. They had opened the link Soonyoung had sent them, and munched on some snacks while they waited for the stream to start up. Vernon waited with baited breath for his distraction to begin; he had spent most of the day attempting to wall off any thoughts of her or last night, but it was kind of difficult to think of anything else when all of his professors only droned on and on about quizzes and homework. 

When a boy with fair skin and burgundy hair came into frame, he nearly sighed in relief. The streamer appeared to be sitting in a small, dark office only illuminated by his computer screen and several pink neon signs that hung on the walls. Vernon could recognize the faint outlines of several guitars and a keyboard behind him. The boy clicked around for a while as more people joined the stream before finally waving into the camera. 

“Hi guys, welcome in! Thanks for joining Woozi’s Universe. If you’re new here, I’m Woozi and I like to write songs sometimes. If you’re an old subscriber, I’m really sorry for the long wait.  I’ve been working on a lot of projects, doing some collabs - I’ll actually be releasing one of those collabs tonight and I’m really excited for you guys to hear it. If you have any new songs you want to listen to together, go ahead and leave them in the chat!”

As soon as the stream started flowing, Vernon immediately knew why Soonyoung gave Woozi such rave reviews. The guy just had good vibes and he definitely knew his music. Vernon was hooked. Even Seungkwan, try as he might to look disinterested, couldn’t help bopping his head occasionally.

“Thanks for the subscription @chweinggum! You just helped me reach my tenth new sub for tonight, and you guys know what that means. Time for the new song! It was really fun to write this with my collaborator, so we really hope you like it!” 

After spending the past hour just vibing in Woozi’s Universe, discovering new songs and artists, Vernon had really hyped himself up to hear the streamer’s personal work. If Soonyoung’s words were true, this would be the song that would truly heal his heartache, the song that would push him to forget about the whole ordeal. He listened in anticipation as pleasant harmonies played through his laptop speakers. But as the song progressed, Vernon did not quite feel the reprieve he was hoping for. In fact, he was kind of taken aback. The lyrics… felt like they told his story. Maybe not word for word, but enough to make Vernon stare at the laptop screen with his mouth open. What kind of hocus pocus, That’s So Raven, mind reading shit was this? The song broke down the walls he had tried to build throughout the day and left him vulnerable to its strangely upbeat and energetic tune. 

He had to admit that he didn’t hate it. The cringe from his own actions did not disappear, but the song helped him focus more on the moments that made his heart flutter, the moments that incited those pesky butterflies in his stomach. They were the moments that made him so hard on himself in the first place and the reasons why it hurt so much that he messed up. She had made him feel seen. She had done everything right. And all he wanted to do was to show her that he saw her too. He just had to figure out how. 

Woozi clapped his hands loudly when the song came to an end, bringing Vernon out of his deep reverie. “And that was Pretty U by yours truly! I collaborated on it with an artist who doesn’t want to be named as of now, so I’ll just say it was great to work with such a talented person and I hope to work with them again soon! Anyway, we know the lyrics are pretty cheesy, but let’s just say it’s based on a juvenile romance! I tried capturing that giddy feeling of liking someone and wanting to tell them pretty words but losing confidence at the last second. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.”

Vernon sat up, nodding his head as if Woozi could see him. After his song scanned his soul like that, Vernon figured it wasn’t impossible.

“I know that some of my subscribers listen to me because they go through these kinds of hardships. But I wanted to say that my songs can’t fix everything. Even I go through it sometimes and I need someone to lean on. There’s actually a new thing I just found out about from a friend - ‘Dear Miss Soju’. It’s a column that they’re gonna start publishing on The Front’s website, and you can anonymously write in all your burning questions about love, relationships, or sex. So if you’re having a hard time confessing like in this song, just know that there’s someone out there to help you out!

“Since you’ll be anonymous, you can write about your heart’s deepest desires, even if it’s a little freaky. Yes, I’m talking to you, user @callmesoon, please stop trying to tell me about your sex life. Anyway, I’ll put the email in the description for anyone that’s interested!” Woozi paused to laugh at several of the comments. “No guys, The Front does not sponsor me. But I can tell you about a company that does sponsor me. Hello Fresh--”  

Seungkwan closed the laptop and sighed. “Well, that didn’t help me at all. Soonyoung hyung said this Woozi guy was gonna make me feel better, but now he’s just telling us to spilll all our secrets to some other stranger. What a scam! Right, Vernon? Vernon?”

By the time Seungkwan turned to look at his friend, Vernon was already writing his second draft for his email. The boy sighed again. Maybe he could give it a shot.

The next morning, Joohyun opened up her laptop to find thirteen emails in her inbox. She smiled. 

Now she could get to work.

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Another World - TDC Holidays - Day 19

Alright, crack ship time!

TRIGGER WARNING: GORY THEMES

DAY 19

AU: ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE

POV: BILLY

He thinks the reason he has stuck with Pietyr this long is loneliness and a lack of choice. Which is an ultimately sad conclusion, but it’s the one he has.

Oh and Pietyr’s masterful ability to kill zombies.

Honestly, though, Billy is pretty sure Pietyr stays with him for the same reasons so they’re at least in agreement. The cabin they’re in is cold and secluded but it’s too much of a risk to light a fire. Zombies will come, they always did. He was on watch and freezing his ass off and a little bit drunk because they had thought robbing a liquor store was a smart idea.

He wouldn’t admit it to Pietyr, but he was shit scared in the cold and dark night, watching for the dead to come out and play.

Pietyr made a sob-like sound behind him, kicking his leg out in his sleep. Billy knew that Pietyr’s partner had become a zombie because of his terrible actions and that they very often haunted Pietyr’s nightmares. Billy felt sorry for him over that at least, even if the thought of doing any harm to his loved ones makes him near sick.

He turned away from his travelling companion and looked out at the fields around them again, purposefully ignoring how tight his throat felt. It did him no good to dwell on the past, on the family he had lost. He checked his watch and sighed, cracking his neck and then freezing because there’s something out in the field. Something very humanoid but definitely not human.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he says as the zombie begins to amble towards the house. He stands and grabs his axe. “Arron, get your ass up,” he kicks Pietyr into the land of the living and the blonde startles but begins stuffing the bedroll into their shared pack on reflex.

Assured that Pietyr was getting ready to bounce, Billy hurried out to the front of the house where the zombie was knocking itself against the porch. He dug the axe into it’s brain quickly, without preamble. Pietyr exited the house behind him and they sprint towards the car that they had hijacked in the last city over.

~

“We need to find somewhere more secure. The more time goes by, the more likely there will be less zombies,” Pietyr says as he drives them along a deserted highway. As far as Billy can tell, Pietyr has a place in mind, but won’t quite reveal where it is. Billy watches him through tired eyes, trying to figure him out. What can he say, Pietyr was a conundrum, he hadn’t slept in over 36 hours and he couldn’t sleep in cars.

Eventually, they pull away from the highway towards some old country town in the backend of nowhere. Billy tilts his head back onto the headrest and sighs, closing his eyes but not truly sleeping. If Arsinoe wasn’t gone, this would have been the moment she had reached across to run a gentle hand through his hair. Their son would giggle from the backseat when Arsinoe teases him about being too old for a road trip and he would take her hand and kiss it.

That fantasy is ruined when Pietyr hits a particularly brutal pothole right before the car stops. Billy opens his eyes to see a big house down a deserted road. It’s fence is high and nothing will get through.

“We’re here. Let’s go.”

~

“I never asked, but did you lose someone?” Pietyr asks that night as he cooks their dinner on a gas stove. Billy sighs, hanging his head slightly.

“Wife and 10 year old son. Arthur got bit at school and Arsinoe didn’t realise he had bit her until it was too late for both of them,” he murmurs, trying to think on it as little as possible. Pietyr winces.

“I’m sorry,” Billy nods but doesn’t speak. It feels like they’re closer now, friends at least instead of vaguely antagonistic acquaintances.

~

The first time he kisses Pietyr, they are drunk. Drunker than they should be. But it’s been 18 months in the same safe house with it’s impenetrable fences and decades worth of food and alcohol storage (apparently, Pietyr’s aunt Natalia would have killed herself if they had ever run out of brandy.)

They are drunk and have had nothing better to do over the last year and a half and Billy finds Pietyr frustrating but the longer he looks, the more attractive Pietyr Arron is, so he kisses him. What’s more surprising is that Pietyr kisses him back, strong hands holding Billy as close as possible as more and more clothes are torn off.

~

It’s nearly four years later that they hear on some government radio broadcast that there is some kind of cure that could be delivered by helicopter drop. Billy and Pietyr stare in shock at the radio before they’re cheering, laughing, drinking into the night because while they still might be in here for a while, at least there’s an end to the tunnel.

Pietyr kisses Billy and laughs, his light eyes shiny happily as he grins wider than Billy had ever seen him smile. Billy kisses him back and feels giddy, like everything was looking up. He kissed the chain around his neck that held his wedding ring and felt like crying happily as he spooned Pietyr to sleep that night.

TAG LIST: @poisonerrose​, @alwaysbored005​, @nataliaarronn​

[goodtimingz]

dreaming you would come true

intro. pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5.

AN: check the intro out^, as usual, if jae ever hunts for fic again i’ll cry. btw stream zombie!!!!!! sorry if it’s boring ;-; i have mundane relationship goals and i want to ask my future bf about psychology so if u study psych hmu lol

tags: studentlife, jae day6, fluff, college!au

: the one where you meet jae in your second year of college and it’s basically love at first sight. just little excerpts of what i think a relationship w jae would be like c: 

1.4k words

What can I do? I just like being with you.

Studying Psychology was great, when you were stressed you just pulled out your notes and cried into them. Which is exactly what you felt like doing at that moment, 10pm in the corner of the library. The library was reasonably packed, as it always was during finals. Just a bunch of students trying to cram a semesters worth of knowledge, some successful and others crying in the corner. You weren’t sure which group you fit into, but you were definitely questioning your existence in that moment.

The lanky boy from last week had been meeting you every night since you first met, an unspoken commitment but a consistent one nevertheless. Infact, he should be arriving about… now.

His ruffled hair and tired eyes met yours almost immediately. It had been only a few days but you were smiling at him like he already owned your heart, the smile he sent back making it harder to breathe.

“Yo y/n, what’s with the raccoon eyes, next time I see you are you gonna be in the trash?” No hello, just Jae as usual. You breathed out a sarcastic laugh wondering how he managed to look so casual? His grey hoodie had to be made from a very special material… boyfriend material.

“Ha. Ha, I actually might be though if I drop out and become homeless. Would you still hang out with me if I was a raccoon?” Jae rests his chin in his hands pretending to think it over.

“Well, raccoon’s are cute. I think having a raccoon friend would be pretty fun.” 

“Of course your logic is spot on, good to know I have a home if I really do drop out.”

,

Jae laughs, he wants to reach out and touch your face, brush his hands through your hair and jab you in your sides until you can’t stop laughing. He would do a lot to keep that smile on your face. 

The past few days you two had formed a routine without words, it kind of just happened. Bonding over your love for food, deep conversations and jokes, you two hit it off harder than Brian hitting Wonpil’s cup over in Music class.  Even though Jae had felt like a total simp at first, going to the library with the sole purpose of meeting you the day after the phone drop, he was pleasantly surprised when you swiped half of your stuff to one side of the desk and waved him over.

Every time you smiled at him, he reminded himself to breathe. He had to be alive if he wanted to take you out, so breathing was important even when you made it so damn hard. He wasn’t super affectionate romantically but boy did he want to be now. You plagued his thoughts, at night he craved the feeling of you in his arms, in the day he wondered what it would be like to walk around with your hand in his. At lunch his thoughts drew back to you. One week had been the best torture ever.

“Jae, what are your thoughts on labels?” You perked up from his side, interrupting his thoughts of you as he pretended to scroll through his Ebook.

“Labels? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asked, turning to face you with a teasing grin.

,

“Hmm... similar concept!” You couldn’t help but smile in his direction. I mean… if you would be my boyfriend? You had to physically shake the thought out as Jae watched you with amusement in his eyes. “I mean, for my exam we have to discuss labelling in society, how would you label me?”

“I would label you a panda. You’re cute, you’re clumsy and you’re tired.”

“Jae, I am not clumsy, you can’t say that when you literally tripped up the stairs yesterday!” You pointed, laughing at the image. Had Jae called you cute just then? You tried to overlook it. Cute was something people called pets and small things, maybe he just seen you as small.

“How can you forget that you literally dropped your phone 8 times since we’ve met, and we only hang at night time in one place. You have butter fingers!” He had a point but you shot him a childish glare. So your phone had gone through some hard times, but Jae had literally dropped his when you first met so who was the real butter fingers?

“Don’t you think it’s time for a boba run?” Changing the topic was the only way you’d escape, or it’d be a roast about who was clumsier which would end in you both laughing until everyone around you hated your souls.

“Definitely what I needed to hear.”

And just like that you both packed up your stuff and exited the warm building. With Jae things were exciting even when life felt mundane. You’d catch yourself smiling through your day just thinking about him, and the frequency of that happening just kept increasing.

The night was cold, but you refused to shiver. If you did Jae would probably tease you and say, “I ain’t giving you my hood, equal rights!”. You would then shove him and then he’d shove you. Gosh, he was so childish sometimes and yet you loved it. He knew how to act, he carried himself as this chill guy who never let life get to him, but you knew it did. Sometimes you would hear a groan, a sigh, and you knew life just wasn’t going how he wanted it to. Whenever you asked him questions he would think them over thoroughly, even if his initial response was a joke.

An idle thought crossed your mind. “Jae, what time does the boba shop close?”  You both glanced  as he pulled out his phone, his eyes widening as it read 10:45pm. 

“11pm.” 15minutes till closing and a 20 minute walk? You watched as he tucked his phone away, but you did not expect him to grab your wrist and run. This meant you were literally being dragged along with him, and by the time you arrived at the store (receiving weird glances from the owner), you two were laughing your asses off out of sheer adrenaline. It felt good to run in the cold night together and despite you being out of breath, you managed to squeeze in a few chicken running jokes on the way.

“You’re so short it’s like watching a baby pig run.” Jae teased, poking your cheek and heading to the counter to order.

“Sorry we aren’t all lanky giraffes, Jae.”

“Don’t hate the player hate the game Y/n!” Jae held his hands up in defence with the cutest grin. “What game! Life?” You shoved him gently with a smile, leaning around him to pay for your drink. His hand quickly pushed yours away, tapping his card to pay.

“Hey! We’re both broke what are you doing?” You had no idea what he was thinking. Last time you heard he was complaining about having only $3.20 in his account.

Jae simply smiled in an sickly sweet way, shrugging his shoulders and walking to a seat.

,

He was broke. But he felt rich in soul. Okay, that was extremely cheesy. It’s just the way you laughed while running beside him, it made him feel so alive.

 He cared about you now, no take backs!

You planted a tiny seed in his heart and he was watering it everyday, it grew so fast and he knew it would be hard to get out. You sat across from him gazing around at the decorations of the store mindlessly and he couldn’t stop thinking about how he didn’t want to lose the image of you.

Life had been plain, last week he couldn’t even remember. It all felt the same. Study, play, sleep, eat and repeat. Everyday he was one step closer to stepping out of college, and he really tried hard to enjoy the mundane times of his life. But after a whole year of playing catch up with college work and performing, he thoroughly enjoyed the idea of finally having someone to share it with.

“Jae, you should let me dye your hair.” You looked genuinely excited and slightly evil, hands reaching over to touch Jae’s hair. “It’s kind of dead. That definitely means pink next.” Jae feigned annoyance but he won’t admit he leaned into your touch a liiiiittle.

“What in the world is going through your head to think I would trust you with such a special job. My hair is my image!” He could feel the tips of his ears giving away his chill image.

“Do we need to talk Jae? You know you’re more than your hair. You have a great personality too. I can book you in tomorrow at 9pm.” Your teasing made him reach over and scruff up your hair sending you into giggles.

“We get it Y/N, you’re gonna be a crazy psychologist though.” He laughed, hoping he could be there to see the day you graduate. 

BRO.

Jae needed a good slap. He’d fallen too hard in such a short time, maybe he was just stressed.

(It definitely wasn’t that.)