#this is a very summer post sorry its just getting to be in the 90s again where i live so im in the Mood

[toddtakefive]

neil perry can’t swim

[koras-human-warriors]

how do u design outfits? also, what are the nearby villages opinions on the clans?

Thank you for asking!!! Asks fuel my passion! Long post warning!

Outsiders

Instead of kittypets and rouges, we got the outsider settlements, which are just basically generic, 1800's European settlers and farmers.

The outsiders rarely interact with the clans outside of trading, seeing them as either savages or bandits- not helped by Bloodclan. When the clans were young, there were a lot of issues with fights breaking out between Thunderclan, Shadowclan, Skyclan, and these villages. The clans had a bad habit or raiding the villiages for and the villagers thought the clans were godless heathens. This reached its peak when once of the nearby villages had enough and burned down Skyclan's entire settlement and driving them out.

This being said, many outsiders do see the clans as being cool- afterall that's how we got our white boy Firestar!

Clan Fashion!

Thunderclan

their outfits are pretty medieval northern European and viking inspired. They raise sheep, so they get a lot of wool, which is both worn and traded. Warriors will often wear the pelts of the animals and monsters they kill for bragging rights. This makes them great for cold weather, but summers are rough. Jewelry is usually worn by women, but earrings are popular among men. Thunderclan clothes are not all that colorful because they have a higher need for camouflage. Thunderclan is, unfortunately, not the best with hygiene (stinky), but they are pretty good about taking care of their hair. Clan color is red and gold, which they wear red during clan gatherings and battles to distinguish the clan apart.

Windclan

Inspired vaguely by Eastern Asian Cultures - mostly Japan (I was a weeboo when I made this au, sorry). Since they have a lot more open land than the other clans, they invested in more farms over hunting, which has resulted in being able to get better clothing either through crafting or trade. They have a silk farm that produces good fabric for the clan, with the extra being traded to outsiders or in clan gatherings. This alos allowes their garments to be lightweight and easy to move in. They have very colorful clothes since they rely on stealth a lot less than others. Green is their clan color, so it the most popular. Hygiene is really important to them and hold spiritual significance (though this may be the medicine folks trying to get people to take better care of their bodies). Long hair is popular among older warriors, but younger, less experienced warriors are encouraged to keep it short because hair pulling is a classic shadowclan move.

Riverclan

Clothing is mostly Greek and Roman with a hint of Pacific islander for their tattoos and jewelry. Riverclaners spean 90% of their day in or around water, so they wear very little clothes in their daily life. Man rarely even wear shirts- showing off as much of their ceremonial warrior tattoos as possible. They don't have much room for growing cotton or raising animals, so they get most of that through trade (or stealing from Thunderclan). Jewelry is huge for both sexes.-both seen with some sort of colorful shell or shiny stone somewhere on their bodies. Their hygiene is okay... they wash often, but they always smell a little like seaweed or fish. Clan color is blue!

Shadowclan

Unlike the other clans, Shadowclan is not strongly linked to any specific culture. Instead, seeing as how they have a long history of letting in outsiders and they are seen as suspicious by the other clans, I made the pirate like! They wear pretty similar clothing to the outsiders that I've next door. Practical clothing is preferred to stylish stuff - if you wear jewelry flashy colors, they are gonna make fun of you. Most Shadowclaners keep their hair short because it is easier to keep the mud and bugs out. Women and medicine wear scarves or wraps over their hair for both religious reasons and to keep their hair from getting damaged. Hygiene wise, they are trying their best. Clan color is purple.

All clans wear custom cat masks for ceremony and battle

[fandxmslxt69]

CLEM!!!

Happy birthday, lovely! I hope you're happy and healthy! So sorry I didn't see your post earlier, I've been having a very hectic year with studying, working and just generalized stuff! BUT BUT I couldn't send you a inbox!

So like a said: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! you are one of the sweetest mutuals ever! And to celebrate that a gotta ask

What is your latest read?

And I want to know your all time favorite Jason fics, please with links and all!

LOVE OF MY LIFE HELLO!!!

OMG PLS DONT APOLOGISE I KNOW HOW HECTIC LIFE CAN GET!! i hope you are taking good care of yourself, resting and relax outside of studies and work!!! remember that none of it matters if you aren't feeling good <33

MY LATEST READ OKAY

um truth be told my love i have been in SUCH a slump lately,,,, its been tough out here.

i only read like 3 books very recently (last month or so)

I did read All The Little Raindrops by Mia Sheridan my QUEEN. its like a mystery thriller with a side of romance!!! Sheridan's books are ALWAYS a hit (she's very popular for her booktok famous Archer's Voice? And Travis !!) I've read like. most of her books at this point. I have never devoted myself to an author so much. She got me into the whole thriller genre and I LOVE her. so much. ITS SO GOOD AAAA. its not for the faint of heart and on more than once i find myself with the need to throw up with how HORRIFYING and messed up some of this stuff is (most of her thriller books are not for the faint of heart. lots of horrific stuff that is all too real and it makes it 10x more disturbing). Anyway i loved it i think i gave it a 4/5 stars it was so so good

2. i ALSO started Ana Huang's If Love series. I literally never shut up about Ana Huang like. EVER and i had been wanting to read this for a while and IM SO GLAD I GOT IT STARTED !!! Its a LOT less popular than hr Twisted and Kings of Sin series; she wrote it well before she got popular/published but its so good. its def not Twisted/Kings of Sin series but it makes it sooo clear how much she's grown in her writing, character development and general story telling!!! I read the first 2 books and UGHGUGHUFGHUFGHG yeah. new comfort series fr fr fr fr.

I also got digging through Lynn Painter's works (Love Wager, Mr Wrong Number, Better Than The Movies, etc) 10/10 her rom coms are sacred to me. this was a while ago though like. months ago lmao but i think abt her books always!!!

OH OH OMG I READ BIRTHDAY GIRL BY PENELOPE DOUGLAS !!!! SOME TIME AGO!!! yeah it changed my brain chemistry. i dont remember if i told you or not. but it changed my life. i think about it always.

edit: omg shut up i forgot i read some banger books months ago that i did not mention. i ate up Liz Tomforde's sports romance series (Windy City series) it was SO FREAKING GOOD. she had hockey romance, she had basketball romance she had BASEBALL ROMANCE. 10/10 amazing vibes

I ate through the latest of Lauren Asher's (Love Redesigned) IT WAS ALSO HELLA GOOD!! Ana Huang's King of Greed was also a vibe. not my fav but it was good. I ALSO delved into hockey romance SOOO DEEP. Fav series is probably Becka Mack's Playing For Keeps. It's the silliest stupidest fluffy no plot head empty series ever. the first book is 90% porn. its just for the giggles. the second is a bit better but the third is def the best in terms of actual plot & character development for example but the vibes are astronomical and i live for them

i ALSO started reading Sarah Adam's small town romance series (very very good). All fluffy fall vibes. CHLOE GONG HAD COME OUT WITH A NEW BOOK IN THE SUMMER AND I GOT TO IT AROUND THE NEW YEAR AND IT WAS SOOO GOOOD. Immortal Longings mm......she destroyed me once again.

OKAY ALL TIME FAV JASON FICS ok i dont have links (is lazy to go find links) but i will tell you two blogs im like religiously stalking:

@in-som-niyah has AMAZING THOUGHTS on Jason 10/10 i love getting all my jason content from her GOD BLESS THE HARDWORKING PEOPLE OF TUMBLR DOT COM

@fcthots also has some kick ass Jason stuff....like....from smutty to fluffy and domestic its....yeah. oooghgubjgubgn yeah yeah.

anyway i've probably forgotten to mention a bunch of books but thats all i can remember that was actually good. HOW HAVE YOU BEEN WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN READING !!!

[flowerbloom-arts]

(this is a reupload of a an ask post that is """mysteriously""" not showing up on my or other people's dashes. The following post exposes the truth about Moominpappa, and after many attempts at reuploading this with screenshots of the post and with the images I used I found that it's the screenshots that are causing problems. The people must know the truth of Moominpappa's lies, and I shall stop at no end to try and educate people on the web of lies that Moominpappa from Tanoshii Muumin Ikka 1991 is created for himself. Tumblr and its agenda to keep 90s Moominpappa's dignity in tact shall not dissuade me any more! Book Moominpappa would be APPALLED BY SUCH SHAMELESSNESS!)

-

@helshdy asked:

Sorry if this is obvious but how did they retcon the moominpappa backstory? Do Hodgkins, Joxter, Muddler, and Fuzzy just straight up not exist?

-

Okay so like... let's start with the stuff the episodes actually tell us.

There's one episode where the Moomin family (Sniff, My and Snorkmaiden included) get invited to Aunt Jane's mansion, which is pretty cool to see tbh, we finally get to see what her living situation is (she doesn't even have a housekeeping staff, she's so goddamn lonely)

And in one scene the kids are cleaning a room and they happen upon a photo album, and the album features... a younger Moominpappa living with Aunt Jane at what appears to be a summer house....

[INSERT SCREENSHOTS OF AUNT JANE'S PHOTO ALBUM]

Now, this is an odd discrepancy that goes unquestioned by the kids but it's not unreconcilable with Adventures of Moominpappa, maybe this is just one childhood summer Moominpappa deliberately left out of his story because it didn't contribute to his story and he doesn't like Jane. That's a minor enough piece of lore to make it make sense.

But then there's Return To Childhood, the episode with Wimsy.

After a mishap with the kids except Moomintroll mistaking Wimsy for an intruder, Wimsy and Moominpappa explain the history of their friendship to everyone, and what they say is uhhhh... (checks notes)

Moominpappa would constantly change schools in his childhood and then he and Wimsy were dormmates at the last school he went to.

...

Now that completely throws AoMP out the window.

We also have real tangible proof of this in the episode, Moominpappa and Wimsy try going on a little adventure together and they come across their old school, it even has the initials they carved on a tree and the same principal is still running the school (AND DOESN'T LOOK ANYTHING LIKE THE FILLYJONK PRINCIPAL).

[INSERT SCREENSHOTS OF MOOMINPAPPA AND WIMSY'S INITIALS ON A TREE AND THE SCHOOL PRINCIPAL]

And based on the kids that currently attend the school it seems that this is a an elementary/middle school?

[INSERT SCREENSHOTS OF THE PRINCIPAL SURROUNDED BY A GROUP OF COSTUMED STUDENTS]

(they're wearing costumes for a festival here)

And that's like. Woah. Holy crap??? Moominpappa like...... actually lied to us. ATLEAST about the majority of his life. And of course the kids don't question this because of Bad Writing BUT WE KNOW NOW.

Though, with all of this I'd have to backpedal and say that Edward the Booble as he was does in fact exist, there's an episode where the characters get Edward so they can use his tears to heal a mermaid tail, although he doesn't seem... quite as big as he was in AoMP (it could just be the animator's horrendous inability to be on model but this is beside the point)

The Ghost, is also real, we all saw him in the Dame Elaine episode didn't we. It's undeniably him, it has all the references we need without a shadow of a doubt despite the very different appearance between that episode and AoMP.

Allegedly he still lived on the island the Oshun Oxtra were on (but we could also argue that it wasn't necessarily that particular island, or it could mean that Moominpappa did in fact go to That island but the events didn't transpire the way MP said they did)

The fact Moominpappa is lying about his backstory could also explain his utter lack of familiarity with Mymblemamma despite his claims of having been friends with her in his youth (allegedly in the Japanese dub MP didn't actually say she was Little My's mother and that she was just another lookalike like the rest of the parents, but also allegedly in the Finnish dub he did say she was her mom, so which is it??) and we can't chalk it up to the show's lack of continuity because based on the Dame Elaine episode the show was perfectly capable of having continuity that adheres to MP's Memoirs even before they actually adapted it. (Both Dame Elaine and Moomin Builds a House were episodes before AoMP part 1)

And the most damning thing about this whole thing is that if you actually watch the AoMP episodes, Moominmamma explicitly had no way to call Moominpappa out on this, she explicitly doesn't know what his backstory was pre-meeting him. "But surely she'd point something out if she didn't know who the Oshun Oxtra was" WE DON'T KNOW IF SHE'D KNOW, SHE WAS LITERALLY OUT OF THE ROOM WHILE MOOMINPAPPA DESCRIBED THEIR MEETING, AND SHE OBVIOUSLY WASN'T HEARING WHAT MOOMINPAPPA WAS SAYING OR WHAT THE KIDS WERE TALKING ABOUT BECAUSE SHE WAS CONFUSED ABOUT THE KIDS STARING AT HER IN DISBELIEF.

IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW

MOOMINPAPPA IS JUST A BAD STORYTELLER AND I DON'T HAVE TO ACCEPT THE UTTER LACK OF CHARACTERIZATION AS REAL

IT'S ALL A LIE

JOXTER AND MUDDLER WERE PROBABLY OLD SCHOOLMATES FROM ONE OF HIS SCHOOLS AND THE REASON WHY THEY WERE LOOKALIKES AND PARENTS WERE BECAUSE HE DIDN'T ACTUALLY KNOW THAT THEY HAD KIDS

WOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

[destinyc1020]

sorry destiny, i am huge tom fan believe me, but i agree with what the anon said, i understand that u can like a movie that others dont thats not what i am saying but out of the MCU and throw in uncharted, tom's acting skills aside because we both hes fantastic, his projects have been misses, in terms of overall quality, reviews & numbers, TDATT, CW, Cherry, TCR. yes u may have liked some of them but numbers were bad, in a sense they flopped. most of these projects he chose when he was still pretty young and green and the only project he chose post covid was i think TCR and it was amazing but people weren't patient and it was slow at first. and i think since then he has grown a lot more and u can tell, its obvious the way he views things and the way hes picking his projects are diff now so hopefully things go well for him in the future in terms of success outside popcorn movies.

I mean, we can all have different viewpoints on films or actors, and that's fine! 🤷🏾‍♀️ I don't think anyone doubts that Tom is talented.

I understand some fans haven't enjoyed his projects in the past several years. I know for me personally, I've enjoyed 90% of Tom's films....whether they were successes at the box office or NOT. Most of his work I didn't even see in theaters. I saw at home.

The only films of Tom that I've actually seen in theaters are The MCU films (of course), The Current War, The Impossible (before I even knew who Tom Holland was lol), Uncharted (of course lol), and Spies in Disguise! Everything else of his, I've seen at home.

RE: TCR....

I actually enjoyed TCR, but if I had one critique, I would say that Akiva took a little TOO long to get to the point and kind of treated us as viewers like we were too dumb to get the "twist". Most of us knew or got the twist w/in the first episode lol. He really could have spent more time focusing on other things imo. Don't get me wrong, I actually think Akiva had a very ingenious, sympathetic, and creative way of showing what's actually going on when someone suffers from DID (and why they may end up having it), and it was done in a way I'd personally never seen done onscreen before. But I just feel like he should have given us as the audience a little more credit. We could have known from the very beginning that he suffered from DID, but maybe not know who exactly his alters actually were. There were many things that could have been done differently. And I think some of the critics purposely gave TCR LOW reviews to spite Akiva, because apparently he didn't even want DID or "multiple personalities" to be written in any of the early reviews coming out for the series, in order to preserve the "twist". But umm.... Everyone saw it coming a mile away bro lol 😅

So...I really think his tactic of trying to keep the audience in the dark felt a bit laborious after a while, and it's like, "WE GET IT man... we've already figured it out!" We didn't need several episodes prolonging things. But hey, I still enjoyed TCR Summer last year lol, and it was very enjoyable to watch Tom in a series (for a change) every single week! 😊

[macbethz]

oh man i would love more transmetropolitan-adjacent 90s comics recs.....

omg i got you. I will be bleeding a little into the late 80s and early 2000s here (as transmetropolitan itself did with the early 2000s) but I do think they full of a similar kind of gross edginess (affectionate).

THIS GOT SO LONG SORRY I GOT EXCITED. also sorry for grammar etc i am kinda falling asleep but YAYY comics

first of all i will say MANDITORY DISCLAIMER that Warren Ellis is an awful person and you can find all his works online if you know where to look and/or used on eBay. HOWEVER he has unfortunately written some of my favorite comics, including transmet. which means of course a lot of the best transmet adjacent stuff is written by him. So some Ellis comics:

Desolation Jones: ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVES! which is unfortunately forever unfinished at 8 issues. It follows an ex-MI6 operative working as a private eye in Los Angeles, which acts as a secret prison for the discards of the intelligence community. Jones was put through the desolation test for a full year, which was a form of torture where, among other things, he was exposed to images of violence and death 24/7 without sleep, leaving him with little emotion and a very broken mind. Beautiful page composition and art. Be warned though it is just straight up unfinished

"Superhuman Trilogy": This is the name for 3 completely unrelated comics Ellis wrote that all deal with twisted takes on the creation of superheroes: Black Summer, No Hero, and Supergod. Of these I think No Hero strays a little too much into edge for the sake of it, the other two are very good and unique explorations of different aspects of the genre.

Stormwatch: Ellis' Stormwatch run is basically the lead up to the Authority. You CAN skip it and i recommend most people do because it is VERY 90s and not necessarily the good kind. but if you have a passion for 90s nonsense it is very fun and its cool to see the beginnings of the subversions of the comic industry that come to fruition in the Authority. I cannot emphasize enough that this run is fucking insane and of debatable quality. I believe his run goes from vol 1 #37 through the end of vol 2. and don't forget to pick up wildCATS/Aliens if you want to see the true craziness of 90s comics, where a cash-grab crossover is simultaneously essential to the windstorm universe. yeah they just did whatever back then

The Authority: The superhero comic that defined superhero comics for the next 2 decades. Coined the widescreen comic, unfortunately indirectly led the the creation of the MCU. Superheroes as anarchist gods. The end of the century as the end of the world. A lot of stuff that reads to modern eyes as cliche or overdone because the Authority made it so goddamn popular afterwards.

Now for some non Ellis!

If you enjoy transmet you will probably enjoy the other British Invasion writers. Basically there was a period in comics post-Alan Moore where a lot of British writers started getting hired in American comics and writing weird shit.

Sandman: I don't think I need to describe this one. A lot edgier and more directly goth subculture inspired than the netflix adaptation conveyed

Grant Morrison's Doom Patrol: What if instead of making you a superhero your "superpowers" were more like disabilities? And also you were constantly fighting the most batshit enemies possible? That is this comic. Weird, surreal, and very influenced by modern and postmodern artistic movements.

Peter Milligan's Shade, The Changing Man: imo this is such a British Invasion sleeper hit. No one talks abt this one. A being from another dimension with the power to control capital-M-Madness possesses the body of a serial killer right before he is executed on death row. He then teams up with the daughter of the serial killer's victims to stop a plague of Madness from spreading across the US called the American Scream. All about being weird, gross, and awesome.

Now, I have not read Preacher myself. HOWEVER I have seen the show and really enjoyed it. I am naturally suspicious of Garth Ennis but he is a staple of 90s edge so I feel like I have to say something. I can definitely recommend the show and have heard good things about the comic but again. It's Ennis.

Non british invasion and a little later, but I also really recommend Invincible! A lot of that same early 2000s satire and ultraviolence expanded over a MASSIVE storyline that loves superheroes as much as it parodies them

ANYWAY im probably forgetting some but i am sleepy and got excited abt this lmao. A lot of this is pretty popular so might not be anything new but i hope it helps!

[just-some-random-blogger]

part 2 for the hottie-cutie! actually we dont use the percentage system in ig all the post-ussr countries (mb not the more european ones but im not sure). but ig 70% is just average here? ig its barely the B(?), in our system its 4/5. or ig 0-50% is like 2/5 (bc its forbidden to give 1/5 *clown emoji*), 50-70 or 75 is prob 3/5, and 90-100 is the highest mark. dk if its stupid of us but yes. id really not say that all russian students are very smart. but now i think that i didnt even knew filipino is based on tagalog... and that a lot of people are really arrogant bitches that would fight till the blood spills even if theyre wrong... but yeah not to be a hater or anything but... i still remember that trend on tiktok where american teens were like 'give me antidepressants and coke and imma explode russia in a sec' and then they cant find the hugest fucking country on the map... and im not even mentioning how they feel like their starbucks can help these sweet summer children to like... conquer, riot, attack... 'YOURE SAYING WHAT I LEARNED IN SCHOOL IN THE FUCKING PHILIPPINES IS WRONG AND THEY WERE LIKE YES' arrogant bitches TT 'i forgive them' its ok id hate them for you. 'that was a long rant' and i love every letter. im so happy for you! you seem so passionate about the sandman, its cute. delightful to read youre happy! and really delightful to see someone being so happy about something so... simple? just being happy. this world indeed needs some kindness. im so happy for your excitement TT take all the time you need, your happiness is the priority!! and gjdd as i was thinking about it, a recalled that in the very beginning of that your fic with daemon x niece reader where she doesnt need him, i felt SO strong about it being like... a half of that daemon idea i teased you... so like yeah. im waiting. but not asking you to speed up!! driving fast is dangerous, children. its a well-deserved rest (in a way). hope youll spend it great. 'just cos ur in the bible doesnt mean ur a saint' i know?? but HFJSDJS it sounds so... like a wity line from this stupid films with the worst, the most dangerous, the filthiest mafia boss and like... just y/n... yeah thats it. and in the night theyre making out and things are getting hotter and shes like omg no i need to finish reading the bible and he answers her with this WITTY line. sorry. just my association. never intended it to sound bad. 'my teacher was nice and me and my friends were nerds' ahajsj were so similar TT like mother like cat TT the only exception i was usually the one who read a book and told about its plot to others but still was the one to answer most of the questions. 'Under my Invisible Umbrella by Laurel Flores Fantauzzo. it’s a personal essay' omgomg it sounds interesting. like.. those books that are written by authors who lived in the country who started a war. SORRY for this comparison but for me it sounds like it. like smn whos seen as an enemy but there he is. its always fascinating to see yourself in a character/a book so im kinda.. glad for you. considering all it sounds strange but feeling a book is the experience to feel. 'ANYWAY im hot. (:' well true. thanks for the tiktok TT you really didnt need to do this but i appreciate your efforts sm TT thank you TT and yeeeah aemonds so funny TT and this guy is so accurately fanny TT yesterday (or the day before yesterday yes thats it) all my classmates and the other parallel class made that ver deputy SO angry *clown emoji* it was the experience to go through.. actually its not an uncommon thing bc i remember no day when she didnt scream at smn. but plugging the equipment? sounds like a good revenge. omg im so eager to know about the works of your national hero! im eager to learn anything youre willing to tell me! so i always wait for you, hottie-cutie! have a nice day/night! good luck with the classes or whatever plans you have! love you! take care<з

HELLO

im so annoyed with myself because i was almost done with answering you then i pressed cntl z and everything disappeared fml

now im going to be sad the entire time i type this fuck off tumblr why are you so glitchy

actually we dont use the percentage system in ig all the post-ussr countries (mb not the more european ones but im not sure). but ig 70% is just average here? ig its barely the B(?), in our system its 4/5. or ig 0-50% is like 2/5 (bc its forbidden to give 1/5 *clown emoji*), 50-70 or 75 is prob 3/5, and 90-100 is the highest mark. dk if its stupid of us but yes. id really not say that all russian students are very smart.

T_T rip T_T HAHAAH wait its still so funny to me that 70 is average i gasped when i read this the first time T_T asian countries be like that ig HAHHAHH. i mean there are A LOT OF DUMB FILIPINOS TOO SO /: its fine theres a bit of dumb in the world but its so weird to me that our grades are so high standard. /: asians HAHAHA

but now i think that i didnt even knew filipino is based on tagalog... and that a lot of people are really arrogant bitches that would fight till the blood spills even if theyre wrong...

well now you know. people who are overconfident are airheaded /:

but yeah not to be a hater or anything but... i still remember that trend on tiktok where american teens were like 'give me antidepressants and coke and imma explode russia in a sec' and then they cant find the hugest fucking country on the map...

STILL AS DISTURBING AS WHEN I REPLIED TO THIS THE FIRST TIME T_T these kids (boys especially) need to stop glorifying war i cant believe this was a trend T_T also the map thing is so true and i suck at geography but i could at least point to russia come one

also T_T although im annoyed i have to type this all over again, did you know russia is bigger than pluto. i love pluto lets talk about pluto more next time when im not frustrated with myself for fundamentally deleting my entire reply T_T

and im not even mentioning how they feel like their starbucks can help these sweet summer children to like... conquer, riot, attack...

L war this is why feminism is important, little boys think war is the only thing that is cool enough to be their hobby because its violent T_T

'YOURE SAYING WHAT I LEARNED IN SCHOOL IN THE FUCKING PHILIPPINES IS WRONG AND THEY WERE LIKE YES' arrogant bitches TT 'i forgive them' its ok id hate them for you.

DONT HATE ANYONE FOR ME T_T NEVER DO THAT FOR ANYONE

'that was a long rant' and i love every letter.

im so happy for you! you seem so passionate about the sandman, its cute. delightful to read youre happy! and really delightful to see someone being so happy about something so... simple? just being happy. this world indeed needs some kindness. im so happy for your excitement TT take all the time you need, your happiness is the priority!!

i did a whole rant about sandman but T_T next time. I REALLY WAS SO SUPER EXCITED ABOUT WHAT I WAS TELLING YOU AND I WANT TO TELL YOU BUT IM SO SLEEPY AND I DONT WANT TO PUT OFF REPLYING TO YOUR P2 T_T anyway i actually returned the books i borrowed the next day (which was yesterday) without reading them because my mom said it was too dark and i agree so i did BUT LSHAH I WENT TO THE LIBRARY TODAY AFTER CLASS AND READ THE MEGABIG ENCYLOPEDIA HARDBOUND SANDMAN COMIC with like 10 issues in it (which had everything in the series) AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH IT MADE ME LOVE DREAM SO MUCH MORE T_T

and gjdd as i was thinking about it, a recalled that in the very beginning of that your fic with daemon x niece reader where she doesnt need him, i felt SO strong about it being like... a half of that daemon idea i teased you... so like yeah. im waiting. but not asking you to speed up!! driving fast is dangerous, children. its a well-deserved rest (in a way). hope youll spend it great.

tell me about your daemon fic now IM SO CURIOUS NOW also as i said i zoomed read (and finished) that mega big comic book so im instead going to be writing sandman fics HAHAHH. i hope you liked my daemon x niece fic. i was surprised a lot of people seem to like it

'just cos ur in the bible doesnt mean ur a saint' i know?? but HFJSDJS it sounds so... like a wity line from this stupid films with the worst, the most dangerous, the filthiest mafia boss and like... just y/n... yeah thats it. and in the night theyre making out and things are getting hotter and shes like omg no i need to finish reading the bible and he answers her with this WITTY line. sorry. just my association. never intended it to sound bad.

HAAHH this doesnt sound bad it so funny actually. also I LOVE THIS CONCEPT i love me a good dirty mafia boss [quietly writes this idea down in my head]

'my teacher was nice and me and my friends were nerds' ahajsj were so similar TT like mother like cat TT the only exception i was usually the one who read a book and told about its plot to others but still was the one to answer most of the questions.

#twinlife u like me for real

'Under my Invisible Umbrella by Laurel Flores Fantauzzo. it’s a personal essay' omgomg it sounds interesting. like.. those books that are written by authors who lived in the country who started a war.

HAHAHHAHAAHHAA

SORRY for this comparison but for me it sounds like it.

HAHAHHAHAHA

like smn whos seen as an enemy but there he is. its always fascinating to see yourself in a character/a book so im kinda.. glad for you. considering all it sounds strange but feeling a book is the experience to feel.

i get what you mean. its fine dont apologize. and yes it is so very nice to see yourself portrayed in media

'ANYWAY im hot. (:' well true.

<3

thanks for the tiktok TT you really didnt need to do this but i appreciate your efforts sm TT thank you TT and yeeeah aemonds so funny TT and this guy is so accurately fanny TT

AT LEAST YOU SAW and found it funny <3

yesterday (or the day before yesterday yes thats it) all my classmates and the other parallel class made that ver deputy SO angry *clown emoji* it was the experience to go through.. actually its not an uncommon thing bc i remember no day when she didnt scream at smn.

T_T imagine living in russia and still being hotheaded. chill /:

but plugging the equipment? sounds like a good revenge.

T_T REAL HAHAHH

omg im so eager to know about the works of your national hero! im eager to learn anything youre willing to tell me!

T_T I dont mean to be that person but im too tired to go on FUCK TUMBLR I HAD A WHOLEASS ESSAY ABOUT PLUTO AND AN ANALYSIS ABOUT SANDMAN CHARACTERS AND I WAS TALKING ABOUT OUR NATIONAL HERO JOSE RIZAL but now its gone and i want to sleep next time baby i wont cntrl z it T_T

so i always wait for you, hottie-cutie!

thank you my love <3

have a nice day/night! good luck with the classes or whatever plans you have! love you! take care<з

good night baby <3 i hope you have a wonderful day <3 im going to sleep now

xxx

[academy13]

I know jack all about Australia's weather, but I assume that since there's a fuck ton of desert, it's probably hot as balls in areas but humid in other's (I imagine depending on where you are, like the coast is gonna be different than more inland). And I also don't know at all how much it rains there, but from what I know of deserts it's pretty sunny all the time and you have shades of beige intersped with greenery from the air.

I understood Rey so much when I went to Florida in 2019 because I've never seen so much greenery in my goddamn LIFE. What I'm saying is I am a total desert rat and I'm plopping my knowledge of desert bullshit on to Tegan. Like girl walks out of the TARDIS once and the other's are like "Oh my god!" at the heat and she's just like "Oh that's a scorcher." And the Doctor is confused for a second before he remembers her standard for weather is not England, unlike the vast majority of his other Human companions who are English and consider anything in like the 80s or 90s hot as balls (which to be fair if its humid out, is awful), but instead is used to weather in like the 80s and 90s with anything below 70 being cold and triple digits being Hot As Hell (I'm used to triple digits in summer and honestly, once you get past like 105 it all feels the same. Even before it hits 100 its just like sun, beating on you. And I apparently get more sunny days than Tegan's hometown of Brisbane, but they get weather closer to the US South, you have to go inland to hit more what I'm used to... so I'll assume that she's been out in that area a few times because of family or something. But in any case her tolerances are in a different place than the English companions.), Adric is just going "I'm sorry did I just walk into an oven?" And Nyssa is trying not to die of heatstroke.

What I'm getting at is Tegan reacts to hot weather in a way the other three don't expect and then there's an entire explanation that Human's are a little bit crazy and also very adaptable, and the conversation is a lot like that post about humans being space orcs.

[skieswcrld]

I posted 1,713 times in 2022

That's 916 more posts than 2021!

24 posts created (1%)

1,689 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cookieface678

@chrxsify

@cutecutejames

@indigowallbreaker

@spook-central

I tagged 90 of my posts in 2022

#ray stantz - 8 posts

#ghostbusters - 6 posts

#dan aykroyd - 4 posts

#my pansexual heart just - 3 posts

#markiplier - 2 posts

#but i do listen to them sometimes - 2 posts

#iswm - 2 posts

#in space with markiplier - 2 posts

#i want - 2 posts

#sportacus - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and its sad to say i vaguely remember their voice but im exageratting it when i say i probably would just go full danhowell heart eyes mode

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

its weird with long distance relationship, esp if u have severe trust issues and keep asking urself if ure good enough for them, if they might lose interest in u, or worse if I might lose interest in them— but the moment we start talking (after what weeks?) the whole conversation is me just heart eyes on the screen and smiling asf that I think ppl rlly could guess from a mile far that I looked like a puppy in love.

and they're not wrong. I'm genuinely happy to be with them and for them I deeply wish them the best and I have and always try to be the bestest friend and lover for them.

i have know this for long that as long as I can, I'll give my full support on them and give them the treatment they truly deserves. who knows what'll happen in the future: if we do stay together, or we break up again, or we stay friends, or something more— ik that I'll try to be there for them.

8 notes - Posted May 9, 2022

#4

hi @sportacringe ehe I'm your secret friend and sorry in advance for delaying your present wayy latter than I should (work stuff) I planned to write u a hurt/comfort fanfic of that one ep of The First Day of Summer where if robbie DID fall down the hole and how Sportacus would react to it (it's still a wip :() so I whipped up Sportacus and Robbie wearing their very stageplay outfit! (Sportacus wearing Íþróttaálfurinn outfits in Afram Latibær and Robbie wearing Glanni Glæpur catsuit lol) hope you liked it :) 

9 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

#3

guys I have figured captain y/n name in iswm— it's captain upd

@lore-majesty

12 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

#2

I've posted this on my insta yesterday but i also want to show my appreciation here—

To Dan, I know that the chance of me meeting you is nearly zero and I wouldn't get to thank him for creating ghostbusters & ray, but I still wanna say that, I thanked you decision to share your hyperfixation on the paranormals that inspires you to make this silly ghost movies because they now become my most favorite movie and I don't think any other can top these. Ray has just being the positive light in my life though I've only known you through the screens for two years and even then— he bring so much comfort and noted myself that I'm worth it. In ways I can't describe & deserving, thank you for making me felt loved and stay as my safe space in my down times.

Happy Birthday Dan Aykroyd<3

14 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

" I'm now convinced— that all of the kingsman dilfs, are true, submissive bottoms, " I say into the mic.

The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.

"He's right, " they say. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the front row stands: Matthew Vaughn himself.

41 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[nonsensegnomes]

bestie what are your top nine favorite movies atm

oooh good question <3 well like i said i'm discovering i've covered way more ground in tv over the last few years (which i'm gonna rectify soooooonnnnnn i think, got a lot of exciting recs from that recent tag game!!) so this is pitifully basic, but like in terms of what i'm thinking about Right This Moment:

the hitcher – slightly deranged about this ever since i saw it last week, a movie perfectly tuned to my preferences <3 love love LOVE the main performances & the dreamy atmosphere & the cinematography; just! the americana of it all!! plus there is soooo much to dig into, like the folkloric resonances (i mean the vanishing hitchhiker story HELLO), the gay panic (as in the actual original homophobic meaning) every shot of the first half hour is just LACED with, that scene where he puts the coins over his eyes in the diner.... obsessssssssssed.

the black phone – okay so i watched this last night & it might fade from the faves over the next few days but rn i can't stop Picking at it. genuinely Disturbed me a couple times so 🙈👍 ethan hawke ATE, the little girl playing the sister KILLED it, and my friend pj should've had more screentime so the sets of siblings could parallel each other or something but wcyd ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i am a little I Can Fix It about some of its clunkier plot points, but the main conceit of the phone fucked soooooo hard i can forgive it 💖

it 2017 – listen. i have been feeling this rewatch approaching all summer & as soon as i get my grubby hands on a projector (as god intended this movie to be watched <3), august is going to be thee month for it!!! idk it just has a very dear place in my heart 💕 like everyone else i did have a 2019 breakdown despite its many Many flaws, but the first one remains That Bitch w/ the perfect pacing & ending... coming of age film that just happens to have a clown in it babey!! also always going to care about eddie kaspbrak unfortunately 😔

nausicaä of the valley of the wind – my fave ghibli movie!! What Is There To Say. it was the first one i saw before i was aware everyone went insane about like hmc & princess monoke (which i also adore!!), so at first i was just Captivated by the animation genius & the Weirdness & the design of those bugs... it just plucks at something in me, like this is PRECISELY the kind of post-apocalyptic story i can enjoy, like what a coherent & hopeful environmental message that's, well, not subtle but certainly managed with a very deft touch!!!

fight club – sorry for being a film bro :/ anyway go look at this important piece of LGBT history

the death of stalin – love a comedy where everything falls apart around & also due to a bunch flailing back-stabbing incompetent idiots, so of course an armando iannucci joint always hits the spot <3 just SUCH alarming pettiness & cruelty that you have to laugh in the face of it ohhhh my godddddd

southern comfort – okay so kinda cheating with this docu, but it just impacted me sooooooo deeply the first time i saw it & i still go back and rewatch every once in a while. despite how sad it gets at the end, it actually is one of those things that gives me Real hope bc the whole thing is just about love & community & the radical Comfort transness allows you to find in yourself 💕💕💞💖 i would definitely rec it to absolutely everyone, it's only 90 mins & absolutely Life-Changing; i think there was a clip going round here a while ago about how affirming t4t love can be, and imo that just sums up the whole vibe. rest in power robert eads ✊😔

fire walk with me – well this is my favourite movie of all time despite the fact that i can NEVER ever watch it again ✌️ like i am well aware that it is technically kinda all over the place, what with david seeing fit to make the first half hour just "fbi procedural david bowie cameo now THIS character says something ominous & incomprehensible" but also. i Do Not Care bc the next hour + a half made me cry so hard it took me like 5 hrs to watch it; jesus CHRIST she was just a kid who needed someone to reach out and help her!!! laura i would have done so much cocaine with you & kept you alive forever!!!!!! also lynch's weird cryptic storytelling just appeals to me personally bc the way the meaning comes more from the audience's emotional response makes it kinda work on the same level as a folk tale for me, which i loveeeeeeeeeee unpicking; saw a post once about fwwm being structured like the saint's life of a martyr and !!! that is exactly It!

stardust – an all-time favourite, i mean the costumes! the pacing! the fun twists on fantasy tropes! the sheer CAMPINESS of it all!!! the way the plotlines converge in the end WOWED me as a child and to this day every time i watch another fantasy movie i'm like. Well You're Not Stardust Are You :/

& honourable mention to those films always occupying some part of my brain, that i can mouth along with from memory just because they are so comforting to me: tsn, the princess bride, 10 things i hate about you, pride 2014, bend it like beckham, saw (this nearly made the main list but like. too obvious.), the parent trap (1998 version), the karate kid

[void-selfships-archive]

Ok I just FINALLY finished bojack horseman after taking a very long break from it cuz it was not good for my depression BUT!!! I was strong enough to finish it and I’ve followed this blog for years and I know you self ship with bojack but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a post explaining how you fit into that world?? Like, what’s your role, how did you and bojack meet, how does your story grow along with the others? AND!! Woooo, “the view from halfway down” episode was. Wow. How would you/your s/i (idk which one you use) react to all that? Are YOU maybe the one bojack calls instead of Diane? Do you/your s/i have their own “view from halfway down” episode? Sorry if this is a lot but I’m back into this show now and I’d love to know your role in the whole thing. :)

SOBBING CRYING SHAKING RN HOLY SHIT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I GOT SEEING THIS FJEJCJEJXJS

Also i get having to take breaks with this show bc if you aren't doing well it will NOT be good for you fjekwjcje I'm on my 4th (5th?) Rewatch rn after like a year (it's a comfort show) [ALSO VIEW FROM HALFWAY DOWN POG??? <- (my top favorite episode)]

BUT ALSO IM. SO GLAD YOU ASKED BC I HAVE SO MUCH LORE FOR THIS MFCKER AND IM TOO NERVOUS TO TALK ABT IT WITHOUT BEING PROMTED !!!

I'm gonna put everything under the cut for SPOILER REASONS but also PLEASE read the tags just in case!!! We're talking abt the mfckin CANON timeline I have for my self insert shits depressing as hell (also I hope I generally explained everything fjejcjdh bad at doing that smtimes)

I'm almost glad I'm not talking abt the Childhood friends au bc its SO softcore like wheres the angst bestie? But also damn. Why all the angst in the canon tl? Chill OUT /lh

Generally the canon tl follows the show pretty accurately, aside from the fact that IM there and a few things r obviously different

I met him in a bar during the 90s! It was one of those "Oh we're both actors! Pog." And we basically drank together and trauma-bonded. They quickly become good friends (It was funny, considering the first thing we said to eachother was "oh you look familiar" and "YOU'RE THAT GUY FROM THAT SHOW I WATCH!" Truly the start of a wonderful friendship.)

And, I basically stayed around him. The Whole Time- through Herb getting fired and both of our shows ending and various depressive episodes (on both ends), parent funerals and hallowern parties and benders and awful horrible shows that definitely should never be mentioned nor have been put on air.

And weird one night stands with eachother that never get brought up the next day (or at all for that matter) just to keep things from being weird.

So I've known him for awhile, and I've stuck around for awhile, basically a ride or die friend (with a tiny little crush that I'm not acknowledging) that's my role, the Yearning Best Friend- so cringe but it works out in the end.

I think, major event wise, everything still happened the same. It's right until S4 when things are, a little different? (Not by much though)

When he heads to his old family summer home he invites me to come with (I also didn't think itd be smart to leave him alone) and through that entire trip he told me about Horsin Around and his family and at a point a drunken rant abt New Mexico that neither of us remembered in the morning. (It was a bonding trip, definitely the start of Feelings too) we start dating in the middle of that season (specifically when we all got trapped underground, you confess a lot when you think you're going to die)

So naturally, S5 is different too, he's not dating Gina in that season, but everything still happens the same otherwise. (Of course I knew something was off the whole time, you don't stay friends with someone for several years and NOT notice when something's off, motherfucker wouldnt *talk* to me though, and when he did it was to tell me someone was trying to sabotage the show and of course you cant have two paranoid mfers under the same roof, they just end up fueling eachother until it's too late and something horrible happens)

And something horrible happened, and Diane told me about what she thought happened in New Mexico, and I'm thinking "I feel like I've heard this story before." And then Bojack tells me what happened in New Mexico and then he choked his co-star and hes going to rehab and everything is obviously too much and I tell him I can't visit of course, because theres a lot of information i need to process, but I'll still write and I'll still text and watch over the house while he's gone since I practically live there at this point but I cant see him rn.

And I didn't! Until he got out of rehab, of course and it was back to "Bojack and Jackson against the world!" And "Let's move! Go somewhere different get a change of scenery!" And we did. He got that job at the university and I! Stayed with him, ever the loyal boyfriend. (Until in getting calls from a reporter and suddenly we're trying to figure out what shitty thing he did before the reporter calls and Oh. It's about Sarah Lynn and Oh!! Thus is certainly new information I wasn't told about! Fuck.)

After the interview- the second one- it was...complicated. I didn't want to leave but i also recognized that i needed to. For now, to let him deal with the aftermath of his mistakes because if he came to me- and he did- he'd be looking for reassurances I couldn't give him. We got into a really bad argument, it was moreso implied that we weren't dating anymore, neither of us said it but we both walked away and that was the last time we spoke.

It's so funny that you asked abt The View From Halfway Down because I was literally just thinking about that episode the other day and if he would've called me and not Diane and honestly! Yea. He did! Tho he called me. Twice that day, once before, after he left Angela's house, and again before he got back in the pool- I picked up the first time but he was pretty much incomprehensible and I couldn't pick up the second time so when I called back and he didn't answer I was. Quick to panic. (I was right for being worried too, all things considered)

And then he went to jail. And we didn't see eachother again until PC's wedding (bonded a lot with her, during that break up period. It was hard y'know? But she got it. Also I was Helping Babysit with Todd, she was rlly making me rethink my opinion on adopting a kid)

We didn't start dating right away tho, but we did start hanging out again? So that was a bonus!

[hardpacker]

KLONOA: Door to Phantomile

PS1, Namco, 1999

a couple minutes that i recorded of myself starting a new game of Klonoa, because some friends haven't seen it before. i have a longer video here, of clearing Vision 1-1 and 1-2.

sorry if i'm a little slow/clunky, i've never done this kind of thing so for the short segment above i first used some shitty freeware that unfortunately only recorded in like 5-min intervals, and for my second try i used different software that required more finessing but i used it to record up to the 2nd boss fight. maybe sometime i can do a proper run with a hot mic so you can really hear my dark nights of the soul with this children's game.

it gets even better than this!

i do have favourite games, but the truth is more that i have "games i've played" (and those are my favourites) and "games" (all other games. there's gotta be at least a hundred by now!) i'm not very good at them lol so i guess what happened is that if i'm going to sink hours and hours into something i end up enjoying it. but Klonoa is pretty breezy (haha.)

most of the games i played as a kid were distinctly of their time: strange, empty, experimental expanses full of 90s patterns and colours, with corners creatively cut. vast, sisyphean 3D platformers like Croc or Glover, all of the Myst games, virtual pets like Petz (dogz, catz) but also the Creatures series starting in 1996, and even more importantly, 1996's Fin-Fin-- produced by Osamu Tezuka's son, and while the company Fujitsu went under, Fin-Fin survives almost entirely due to a German fan site. fin-fin is genuinely perfect though, i mean look, look at this

fin-fin makes a bitch out of james cameron

meanwhile, Glover (1998)

Pokemon G/S/C were instantly and still are my favourite Pokemon installment for how much bigger and more mysterious they felt--and how much bigger they are literally! they're pretty huge games especially relative to the Pokemon games before and after. bigger still is how little is explained and how much room is left for a kid's imagination to build an experience from more simple pixels. it's a place to live in. coupled with the Pokemon 1999/2000 film featuring Lugia (my all-time fave) and my complete lack of access to any press about new Pokemon, the sense of mystery lasted quite a long time. the surprises, the entire soft but vibrant colour palette, the history and legends permeating the countryside, the simple but immersive integration of day/night and events throughout the week, and a soundtrack of top to bottom heaters... it felt personal, intimate.

compared to the newer series which i just find too stacked with convoluted elements. as of X/Y, they really began to feel like homework to me. i barely remember the plotlines after Black/White. i welcomed Heart Gold and Soul Silver, too, because it was incredible to see these beloved environments come into what was then HD focus. i replayed Crystal last summer (?) on my GBA and seamlessly remembered the way i imagined all those original environments and events. the limitations on these games make for infinite interpretation, and for me, contentment.

i don't tackle all my favourite media with the problem-solving/"what if" approach that i do with other properties... in fact it's pretty rare. games especially are a full sensory experience. Metal Gear Solid is another favourite series, special in that it's one of the few games i've repeatedly played just for the hell of it. Ace Attorney, which i was obsessed with as a young adult, i made almost 0 "content" for. i just didn't feel that impulse but still liked it all the same. versus something like JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, which fucked my ass up; that was a world i wanted to not only explore, but explore by creating my own ideas bound to it. the fact that JJBA has continued for so long, incorporates many genres and tones, and has been adapted into multiple formats, means it's accessible to more people and i. (i need to save all that for its own post ha ha.)

Klonoa really is dreamy though, and that's essential to the story. it starts immediately following a luscious, ominous opening, and you're rushing off with little preamble. Klonoa himself is guileless and accepting of the logic presented, while his orb friend Huepow prompts him to question meanings and intentions. but why should he question it? why should you? it's his home, and just look at it! gorgeous.

the pan flute-heavy soundtrack rips. the characters speak in individual conlangs based on Japanese, sort of like the Sims. those little enemies i'm grabbing in the video are called Moos and there are different variants-- flying moos that look like parrots, moos that hop around on what looks like an inner tube with a spring, ghost moos, armoured moos (these run fast) and giant moos (which you can blow up to receive a handful of stones, or inflate to use them as a platform.)

this is from the beach volleyball game. the guy with the heart on his head is the king of all moos.

i rented Klonoa from my small town's video store so many times that finally my parents begged them to sell it to us, and that's what happened. it's such a charming game, the colours and music and whimsical winding 2.5D tracks are cleverly and lusciously laid out. it makes no sense that this is contemporary with big time uggos Crash Bandicoot and Spyro. i loved Spyro too, because he was a little dragon and i was pretty confidently a little dragon, too. pwho doesn't love a melted ice cream-y world and a million sparkly sound effects! the closest i come to ASMR is the soft crunch of crashing through baskets of gems.

i'm grateful kids might experience a new and improved Spyro. those remakes don't rekindle excitement in me as much, only because i think i pretty much got what i wanted out of them when i was younger. and omfg Crash is something else entirely. i don't know much about those games because i was bad at them, but i played Crash Team Racing repeatedly until i sold it (and Ape Escape, a game i remember feeling genuine rage toward) to an old woman at a flea market lol. i learned last month that i'd never played story mode, didn't register that it was there at all, and it's so weird to discover a whole other aspect to this game. weird too because, like Crash proper, it's frankly a bit too racist!

now. need to talk about Klonoa more.

at the time, critics thought the games were "too cute" and "too easy", but now it seems like a lot of reviewers have gone back and adjusted their response-- the sequel is considered one of the greatest PS2 games iirc? even from the time, there are equal reviews remarking on seeming randomness of the difficulty level and, especially, toward the end, ramps up sharply. this game has some hard shit in it! especially when it comes to timing and building up momentum. lots of heights-based challenges that make me flinch and kick reflexively.

these came to me at a time with barely any internet, so games were just random items that appeared in my house or were available at the video store, not things i knew how to find or should consider finding on my own. i didn't know there was a sequel until i thought to punch "klonoa" into a search in my Netscape browser, something i could've done at any point (during my allotted 20-30min computer time) like an early human inventing fire lol. it was one of the first things i ever bought online and it came to me during a part of summer while my parents were away, and this hushed sense of freedom coloured my experience.

there are 2 Klonoa GBA games and a silly beach volleyball offshoot game as well, featuring characters from Lunatea's Veil onward. i played one of the GBA ones as a kid, Empire of Dreams, but i don't think i finished it. at the time, shrinking Klonoa into a gameboy just wasn't what i wanted-- i liked how odd and big the PS games felt, the structures receding into a darkness i simultaneously filled in and was thrilled by in its own right. and i was gutted by the story and wanted to follow it on the platform i loved most. but Empire of Dreams and Dream Championship both look so natural and very pretty, and i think these play basically like a Mario. i should try it again.

There are technically 3 handheld Klonoa games-- Moonlight Museum was only for the WonderSwan, but it can now be played as a translated rom, available here! i'm pretty sure it's intended to take place before(?) Door to Phantomile.

Empire of Dreams takes place in an indeterminate time after(?) Door to Phantomile. Dream Championship takes place after the Playstation 2 sequel, Lunatea's Veil, the direct continuation of Door to Phantomile and utilises the same foundation/mechanics.

from replaying them recently, i found out Klonoa 1-2 are being remastered for the nintendo switch. i don't have a switch so i can't compare, and i hope they retain all the same qualities. i played the Wii version of Klonoa many times and i did like it, but there is something that gets lost in each rework. even the colours and light of the switch version feel... yes, more "realistic" in some ways, but they're not as cohesive or as saturated, not as lively, a little faded. the UI isn't as unique either. i hope my impressions are wrong though and that regardless, it's still just as fun (and sad, haha.)

i'll have to show a bit of Lunatea's Veil, at least just one of my favourite locations... La-Lakoosha. i can run through it in my sleep.

[fa-by]

Hi babies and dear Anons 👋🏼🤗 Back with a new 'Q&A' post. Enjoy 🙃

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and yes, I did. You can find it here, dear: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648192029691691008/camren-timeline-tittle-edited.

Yes, I heard about that rumor, dear Anon, and veeery false.

I knoooow 😍😍😍 Let's cry in joy and queerness 🥺😭🌈🏳‍🌈

Yep, dear Anon. And unfortunately for us, they will continue to do so for a veeeery long time 😒🙄😔

No, dear Anon, I highly doubt it's another duet. They'd be really, but really stupid if they do 🤦🏻‍♀‍

No, dear Anon, these are just people who want attention. People who have problems in their lives and talk shit about others to feel better. This is just the work of those people who believe in black magic and want to involve as many people as possible to think like them, and if they fail, they attack you because you didn't agree with them and you didn't go to their side. They can get so desperate they even get to the point of, oh I don't know, since you've blocked them, sending an anonymous ask to your girlfriend with a death wish for you:

The funny thing for me besides thinking that maybe this person believes they're a witch and imagining them with a voodoo doll with a needle in my stomach, is that I was kind to them the first time 🤷🏻‍♀‍ I tried to make them reason, I really tried to meet them halfway, but sometimes that's not enough with people like that.

But anyway. My point is that no, management has nothing to do with it. Thank you for your ask, dear 🤗

It's okay, dear Anon, don't worry 😄 In last time’s ask you wanted my opinion on the song, right? Well, Not Killin' It Today simply talks about how not every day is a good day. It can happen to all of us not to feel 100%, and Mila says just that. For us girls it can happen even more during or just before the red sea period, if you know what I mean, and indeed, she herself sings “I'm PMSing” = PMS: premenstrual syndrome. If that's why, I think she wrote this song precisely around that period 🤣

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Don't worry, dear, I can understand you, and if I hadn't, we would have found a way to do it. English is not my first language either.

1) Yes, I do think that.

2) (I knew all this) I know she did; she's been doing it for years if that's why because Taylor is one of Camila's mentors. Taylor is what can be defined as the celebrity master with PRs. She’s always done what she was asked to do and she’s always fulfilled her PRs duties of her contracts, and indeed, look where she is now, as well as being a great songwriter. So yeah, who better than her?

Hope you're great too, dear 🤗

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 I'm sorry I'm bad with general questions like this 😅 I'm so much better when I'm asked a more specific question, and usually, when I have something in mind, I write it and create a post with my opinion about it. I'm not kidding about how bad I am at this, believe me. It’s the same thing as when I get the typical “tell me something about yourself” phrase. It's like my brain suddenly switches off 😅🤣 Can you take a look at all my posts from my archive to see which ones I’ve already responded to and maybe come back with a question? I'm really sorry, dear 😖🥺

I'm sorry but Camila can't stop anything, dear Anon. Not Camila, not Roger, and not even Shoo. I understand your frustration, believe me, I do, but you, and anyone else to which this is still not clear, need to understand that it's a contract. A contract called a relationship contract, and it's a legally binding document. I know it's hard, but the advice I can give you is to ignore the 12-year-old SS and their fantasies, and wait for it to finish without wasting your energy on the bullshit they say. Don't let them get to you and unleash your anger. You make them win this way. Rather, have a laugh at their ignorance.

Hey dear Anon, I'm good, thanks, and I hope you're doing well too 😊 They broke up for a little while, for about a month before, so more than a breakup I would call it a little break. And to answer the rest of your questions, dear, I'll sum it all up by telling you that when they're not together, or they're on a break, they have a different way of acting than when they're together. And I speak in general. It shows in the way they behave in general. Now it's much harder to see since they're no longer in the group and you could clearly see when it happened, and it’s also hard since the pandemic, but there are patterns. I’ve spent so much time analyzing them that they're quite predictable in my eyes 🤣 Forgive me if I'm not going into details, but these are personal observations that not everyone can agree on, you know? Maybe I'll do it in the future, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀‍ We'll see 😉 Have a good day/night too 😄

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼 and thank you very much 😄 and yes, of course. To answer the rest of your questions, I'll summarize everything by telling you that you have to take into account that I entered the fandom at the Work from Home's time, so they were all just rumors to me initially. Camren themselves were just a rumor to me. I had to search, analyze, and find the proofs on my own to prove to myself which ones were true or not. The first example that comes to mind and that I can give you is the kiss in the van in London that I recently explained in my ‘Inauguration’ post.

I'm sorry you think this way, dear Anon. I honestly think she doesn't even know. She has said many times that she tries to stay away from social media, and I really believe that. She did it before already, but I'm convinced that she does that even more since she was going through that bad time and she was about to give it all up. Besides, it's known that she doesn't manage her accounts, just as it's known that she doesn't even control how they’re used I would say 90% of the time. I don't know if she'll find out and eventually will say something about it. We don't even know if she has the freedom to do so. So, I'm really sorry you're making a decision based on something she didn't do.

Hey to you too, dear Anon 😄 Yeah, it's nothing new. I'd already debunked the whole Laucy story with my very first post (https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648191757219250176/there-is-a-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel), so as far as I'm concerned, she can say what she wants in future podcasts/interviews as well, but she'll never be able to convince me that she's not actually talking about Camila. This was simply a much more chill, fun, with no tears, and no mention of Camila repetition. The first podcast served to plant the seed. We know that Lucy is her main narrative and we know that she will continue to use her for a very long time. I mean, it’s convenient for her. It's the perfect cover for our Mila. But if people want to keep believing they (Laucy) were real, that's honestly their problem 🤣 Let them be convinced of their beliefs, dear, and have a laugh 😉

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Here's the thing……… Yes, to everything you said 🤣 but let me explain why.

1&2) Yes, Laur is like ‘part’ of their contract but for simple narrative, as you yourself said too. If that's why, so are 5H and all the rest of the people who are or have been involved with them. I'll give you an example. You know the bullshit they said about the Austin Mahone tour? That Sunsilk was always isolated in his bus playing guitar? That no one spoke to him outside of Camila when there are actually plenty of videos showing him spending time with the rest of 5H and the other people on the tour too? Certainly none of those people can call him out on that bullshit today and say it wasn't true. They'd blow his cover. They'd make him not credible in the general public's eyes. So everyone needs to be quiet for what they know (that's how it works in that world for every damn thing), and that's Lauren's involvement in their PR. Be quiet. Be quiet and go along with the game. Just as Camila had to during hers with Tymbal.

3) They have to, dear, or all the farces told so far would go to shit for the GP too. 4) 100%, dear Anon, 100% 😏😉 but it must also be said that they'll remain connected forever anyway because of the group.

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Welcome and thank you very much 🤗

1) Everything she's been doing lately leads us to think that the first single for the EP will arrive shortly. I think and hope it will arrive for the summer, but as far as the actual EP is concerned, it will depend on the release of the single. So if the single is out this summer, it's very likely that the EP will follow its course by arriving towards the beginning of autumn. We'll see, dear, we'll see 🤞🏼 🤞🏼 🤞🏼

2) I know that many people get upset and that they're disappointed, and while I too would like her to interact with us more, I also know and understand that it's not just up to her. Although she's much but much freer than before, she still has contracts, people, and patterns to follow.

Take it from someone who's waiting for Rihanna's new album for 5 years 😅🤣 It takes patience, and I have a lot of patience, dear. I fall into the category of those who don't mind waiting simply because I'll always support Lauren.

People forget this: we have to consider ourselves lucky that after what she went through, she decided to pursue with music.

If you love her, if you stan her, then be patient. Stay metaphorically speaking by her side no matter what. That’s what I think, dear Anon.

Do you mean the first breakup they had that lasted from late November 2014 to late December/very first days of January 2015, or do you mean the bad one that took place in October 2015? But in any case, both of your questions rejoin only one event, dear Anon: the real breakup of the group that happened in mid-October 2015. But answering you more specifically:

1) You can see with your own eyes the videos of the interviews of that period by starting with this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WqOb9qBQ_M&t=11s.

2) Camila’s unofficial departure from the group at the time was the icing on the cake, but you have to consider a lot of things, dear. The fact that they were young. The fact that they were in the spotlight and were being monitored by both fans and management. The fact that they had those same people controlling them and telling them what to do all the time. The fact that they were constantly under pressure. The fact that they couldn't be together freely as a couple. The fact that they were forced to pretend they didn't love each other. The fact that they were forced to do PRs, despite being much lighter than now. I could go on with the list, dear Anon, but I think you get the point. It's a lot of stress and a lot to digest, especially considering how young they were and the environment around them.

Have a nice day too, dear 😄

Of course I can answer you, dear Anon 😊 So, in my opinion, and always keep in mind that I could be wrong, she told every person in her clique at different times. I think Mila knew about her attraction to girls back in school, but she didn't say anything to anyone because she didn't have a reason to. In the sense that she hasn't had the opportunity to approach another girl and therefore have a reason to tell someone about her queerness. After her first kiss with Lauren on New Year's Eve, I'm willing to bet that the first person she came out to was her mom. Camila's number one best friend is and always has been Sinu, so I can feel it in my bones that she was the first one to know. Oh and, we're in early 2013 here, so Mila was still 15.

After Sinu, there were the girls (DNA) who obviously lived their story with them step by step and therefore I don't think it was a real coming out with them, and her best friends back at home, Sandra and Marielle Guzman (and maybe also Mariana Luna since she was the other one with whom she was very close immediately after the two sisters, but I'm not very convinced of it), and Jenny Runza, who despite being a little younger than Sinu, Mila has always regarded as one of her best friends.

In 2014, when Camren were official, there were more confirmations that led to her automatic coming out with the rest of her clique's friends since the word Camren had already spread around like wildfire for almost two years by then.

At the beginning of 2015, it was the moment when Laur came out to her family, so I strongly believe that that was also Alejandro's moment, although I'm convinced that like the Jaureguis, Ale knew about his daughter all along and that he was even more convinced at X-Factor. Sofi was last on the list simply for a matter of age and I'm talking about 2017. I can't tell you when she told her grandpas. I don't even know if she could have told Norberto because I don't know the kind of relationship she has with him, but Mercedes? Well, abuelita certainly knew this before 2018 because I laugh when I think about the way she looked and talked with Mattress during their PR.

It's not that simple, dear Anon. You're not considering the fact that they didn't communicate during that time. You're dwelling on only one thing and are not looking at the big picture of their relationship at the time. Okay. Let's do something. Picture a scenario that has nothing to do with Camren.

Picture a couple living together. A couple who often quarrel over even the most trivial things or who don't talk at all because they almost avoid each other. Their relationship is very unstable and they're basically at the end of it. Now picture a conversation between this couple in which the only exchanges spoken in a normal way are by then just daily information such as: “I'll be at work from 8 to 4” - “Okay. Will you come home right after?” - “Yeah, I think so” - and then that person comes home at 6 pm despite the worried calls and messages received.

They're so distant that the person who came home late didn't feel compelled to pick up the phone and tell them about the delay. Probably that person didn't even feel compelled to give an explanation and justify the delay once they got home because they're convinced that their partner doesn't really care and that they're just looking for yet another excuse to argue. That person will have felt even more trapped and suffocated by their partner who was really worried instead, but neither of them tells the other the truth because they're too busy arguing and blaming each other instead of meeting each other halfway and really talking about what they feel and makes them vulnerable. They will surely end up in bed with their backs to each other without saying a word to each other after the fight.

Now look at these phrases from the song itself and put Camren's faces in place of the couple in the example: “With no confrontation, I really wish we could talk about it instead” – “All I need from your side is for you to communicate”. Is it easier for you to understand the dynamic now, dear?

Hello to you too @camilalauren0327 👋🏼😄 [why can't I ever tag you in posts?]

No, no, no, dear. None of this happens. So. I'd like to start by saying that OCD begins when people misunderstand their own thoughts. We've all had unwelcome and intrusive thoughts at least once in our lives, right? Well, the importance of those thoughts becomes much more intense or sometimes even extreme for people with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Like, I'll give you a stupid example, okay?

Most of the time I park, I lock the car, and after I’ve taken a couple of steps, I ask myself: “Ma ho chiuso la macchina?” / “Did I lock the car?”. So, I turn around and lock it again with the keys' remote control even though I've already done it, but I do that anyway to be sure and because maybe I really didn't do it because it happened for real. Now. What would a person with OCD do? Most likely they would do like me, and after getting halfway, they would go back again to close it AGAIN. They would do it a couple of times, and most likely, they would do it a third time after they got home. They would leave the house to go lock the car they've already locked five times.

OCD can begin in adolescence, early adulthood, or even childhood. The onset of obsessive-compulsive disorder is typically gradual, but in some cases, it can begin suddenly. Symptoms vary in severity from time to time and this variation may be related to the occurrence of stressful events. Now. Doesn't all this rings a bell for you? No? Okay, let me explain. I'll copy a piece of my ‘Camren Timeline (Tittle edited)’ post for you: “Camila suffers from one of the variants of OCD since she was 8, and despite seeing a therapist since 2013, her OCD was diagnosed at the end of 2015. C also suffers from anxiety, panic attacks, mood disorders, and depression (all linked to her OCD).”

Why did she start suffering from it at the age of 8? Because little Mila moved back and forth between Havana and Mexico City until she was 5, almost 6, right? After that, she moved to Miami with her mom by leaving behind her family, her friends, basically everything she knew, and her dad. Her dad finally managed to rejoin them almost two years later when she was almost 8 years old. Although she had her family with her again, her little mind didn't relax. It didn’t bring peace to her. In fact, that sprang her first OCD symptoms, which gradually worsened and then fully erupted years later in the group.

What triggers OCD? Stressful life events.

Got it now? Were you able to put the pieces together, dear? I've also answered other questions on the same topic here if it may interest you: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648194918161989633/%C9%9F.

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Don't worry, nobody’s asked me to do it yet.

So, as I think we all know, The Boy was originally titled Care About Me. Ed Sheeran wrote it and gave it to Mila for her self-titled album Camila. Mila almost completely rewrote it (Ed said 90% of it) and lastly discarded it because it didn't fit well with the rest of the songs on the album, and I totally understand that.

Intro:

“Yeah, he's messed up a couple times

But he's my glass of cherry wine

And I drink and I drink 'til I'm drunk off of him

I'm in love

(Ash:) He just hit me up to come over

He said what?”

So. The song begins with Mila trying to justify the boy by saying that even though he made mistakes, she's so into him to get past it. I know she used terms like drunk off of him and in love, but she doesn't mean that she's actually in love with him in this case. Just very into him. She's jokingly explaining the situation because she's talking to Ashlee, her friend, and I don't know about you, but my friends and I often use the term in love to make people laugh and to indicate interest in someone.

Like if we see someone for the first time and they're really hot, or if one of the celebrities we like posts like a selfie, we say “I'm in love”. Or, like, another kind of example: one of my best friends has been dating this guy for a few months, and last week he surprised her with some flowers (which he paid very much by the way) and with dinner just because. Hearing her happiness since she has always had only assholes so far, when she finished telling me everything, I made fun of her by laughing and saying: “Lost in love, huh?”. Not because she's actually in love with him, but because it was such a nice thing and she's into him.

So Mila used those phrases to indicate how much she liked him and not because she was actually in love. Also because if she had really been in love with him, she wouldn't have said she didn't care about him for the rest of the song.

Then ‘Ash’ receives the text, and this leads us to understand that the boy is a player and a cheater.

Verse 1:

“Momma said, ‘Always be kind, girl’ (Girl, what's on your mind?)

But I got something I should say (Say it, girl), uh

Boy, I'm sick and done and tired (There's something on my mind)

I'm not yours to manipulate, uh-huh (Tell him girl, tell hi)”

It explains itself quite well. She can't take it anymore.

Pre-Chorus:

“Oh boy, hold your tongue, I don't want no 'pology

‘Cause we both know you're thinking wit' was under your jeans”

Mila tells him not to waste his breath on justifications derived from his member because she doesn't need them. Tsk, Tsk. Typical male behavior. 80% of their thoughts are formulated based on how and where to put their tool in 🙄

“Sent your friends over to tell them you're missing me”

He even sends his friends to her to try to change her mind, but:

“But I don't care, so tell that boy that I am fine”

But she doesn't care. She doesn't care because she's fine this way. In fact, she's better off without him.

Chorus:

“I don't care about the day he decided to leave

I won't be there when he tells another lie so”

This makes us understand how many times she's had to forgive his bullshit.

“I'm gon' use all of my words for weapons”

We know how lethal words can be.

“'Cause the boy don't care about me, lemme say it again, now, babe

I don't care about the way he thinks it's so sweet (Ah)

All that sugar cone gon' be bad for me tomorrow (Ah)”

He can try to kiss her ass as much as he wants, but she won't change her mind. Talking sweet to try to win her back doesn't work because she doesn't want to deal with a player who lies to her and messes up every time.

“I'm gon' use all of my words for weapons

'Cause the boy don't care about me”

He doesn't really care about her, so it's even useless to her that he tries to fix it.

Verse 2:

“All my girls inside the place now (Say we don't need no man)

No wonder we switch sides sometimes (We got this)”

Camilita, Camilita, Camilita 😏 No wonder many girls prefer other girls, huh?

Switching sides can mean switching sides in the true sense of the word, that is for example going from one side of a room to the other. It can mean changing your mind about something or someone. And, most interesting of all in this case, it can mean switching sides in sexual orientation.

I've said many times that she's a fucking genius, and we know how sneaky she is with her songs. She was really smart at using this hidden meaning because a lot of people took it for granted that she meant the meaning of changing her mind since we girls have this nomination about often changing our minds about something.

“Wipe that good look off your face (Say we got better plans)

Ooh, you better not act surprised (For real)”

Exactly. What would be the point? A lot of guys do that 🙄

Bridge:

“Oh, oh, don't care about me

That's fine with me, babe

You don't care about me

And that's fine with me

Fine with me, fine with me (Don't care about)

It is what I need, oh (That's fine with)

Don't care about, care about

Care about, care about me, oh”

She's fine with it simply because she doesn't care about him either.

Outro:

(Ash:) “Girl, that's old, we're done with that”

Yep. She's definitely done with that/him.

And this is my interpretation, dear Anon 😄 In my opinion, if this song really ended up on the self-titled, it would've been used to give yet another proof of her light, old PR with Michael. People were supposed to remember her last, sure, Jan, flame before meeting the love guru Matrix. It was supposed to be like: “Hey, hey, guys, I'm straight, look! I was with a boy and now with another grandpa one!”.

It's just a different version of the Cinderella song for me: she doesn't need a guy in her life. Don't wrap your head around it too much, dear Anon. There's no deep meaning behind it at all. After all, this song was given to her by her idol, and she certainly couldn't refuse. She changed it in a sassy and fun way, she saw that she couldn't fit it with the others because it wouldn't have made sense, and she then discarded it. The end. She was like: it was funny, but I actually have a story to tell. Bye-bye.

Have a good day too, dear ❤️

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and yes of course I can do both, but for what purpose am I supposed to do All Again? I mean, I can give you my interpretation of that song without any problem, but it wasn't written by them. By none of them five. That's why I'm asking you for what purpose am I supposed to do that. And that should answer your second question as well. Like No Way and many other songs, the girls may have related to them, but they didn't write them. The only songs they wrote, and not alone but with other songwriters, are:

- Me & My Girls, Don't Wanna Dance Alone, and Who Are You for Better Together,

- All in My Head (Flex) for 7/27,

- and for the self-titled album we have Sauced Up: Arlen (+ other songwriters), Make You Mad: Normally (+ other songwriters), Lonely Night: Norminah (+ other songwriters), Messy: Normally (+ other songwriters), and Bridget: Alren (+ other songwriters).

It's like you ask me to give you my interpretation on for example Who Are You. I could do it without a problem, but that song was written by 8 different heads. With the exception of the bridge that we know Lauren wrote, I can't tell you who among Camila, Dinah, Normani, Ally, Julian Bunetta, PJ Bianco, and Nasri Atweh wrote which part. Analyzing a song sung by a single artist/songwriter is completely different because the idea and concept and feelings are based on a single person. The songwriters who co-write the song together with the artist adapt to them, or maybe the idea comes to one of them, but they modify the concept together with the artist based on their personal experience, as happened for example with Consequences.

Now that you know all this, do you still want me to analyze All Again? Let me know 😄

Let's move on to More Than That.

Lauren wrote four songs in 2016, two of them were meant to be for someone else, but one of them, as we all know well, she kept it to herself. She decided to keep More Than That to herself once she modified the original lyrics along with Prince Charlez and SoundzFire, aka Hue Wayne Strother.

Intro:

“M-M-M-Murda”

This small part of the initial effect intro we hear, is simply a shoutout to Murda Beatz, one of the two producers of the song.

Verse 1:

“I see you watching so I walked into your stare

'Cause I ain't in the position to be walking over there”

She's not in the position to go there simply because she's taken, but she likes to be watched. She likes the attention she's receiving, so she puts herself in plain sight so that this person can keep looking at her.

“I got a situation, I can tell you wanna know”

This guy must have wondered: ‘Why if she's looking back at me, then she won't approach me? Is she someone who likes playing hard to get? Is she a teasing sort? Is she waiting for me to go to her? Or maybe she's in a relationship?’ Typical questions you ask yourself in that situation, and Laur summarized them all in one simple sentence.

“How you can take an honest girl and turn her to a …

If I'ma take a gamble, then you better come correct

I need more than them diamonds that you got around your neck

Shit, anybody can flex, my baby do it best

If you come with somethin' better, then we might just take it there”

The stare, the fact that this guy has the money (diamond necklace), the physical appearance, are not enough for her to push her to cheat. Because if she has to take the risk of cheating, these are certainly not the things that would drive her to do it, but she could if he had something better to offer her. [And with that, please keep in mind that Lauren is a very loyal person and that she wouldn't have done it even if this guy had gone with something better]

Pre-Chrous:

“I know I ain't right for tempting you

But I just wanna see what you would do

If I gave you a taste of what I do

Just remember that I don't belong to you”

The fact that she returned his gaze, that she spoke to him and gave him just a little taste, doesn't mean that she’s no longer taken. As I said before, she likes the attention, and although she knows that it's wrong to instigate him, she does it anyway because she's playing with him. “It's kind of more like clowning him” as she said herself.

Chrous:

“You gon' have to come stronger than this liquor

Wanna take me home, better be more convincing

It'll take more than that to get to me

More than that to get your way

Boy, you better come stronger than this liquor

Wanna take me home, better be more convincing

It'll take more than that to get to me

More than that to get your way

I'm stronger than this liquor”

During the approach in which the guy tried to ‘take her home’ for the night, Lauren easily manages to reject him despite being drunk, because her loyalty is stronger than the attraction she may have felt for him and certainly stronger than what she was drinking.

Verse 2:

“If my man notice, there’ll be some issues”

🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣

I'm sorry but every time I listen to this part I can literally picture Camila turning into the Incredible Hulk as we've seen many times. And shit, despite her being tiny, Mila can be scary when she's pissed off.

“But take my number down, I just might hit you

No, I'm just playing, I'm so deep in love

But the way you talkin' might just have me actin' up”

Drunken thoughts mixed with attraction/arousal blocked by common sense and loyalty.

“The way you looking at me, boy, I know what's up

I can feel how you feel without even a touch”

Let's not fool ourselves, guys. You too will have felt when a person is ready to jump your bones. To feel it in the air. To perceive it from the way they look at you, talk to you, and yes, even using excuses to innocently touch for example your arm even if the intentions are far from innocent. These kinds of things, whether you're in a relationship or not, whether you're loyal or not, and especially if you're attracted to the person in question, make you feel appreciated. They make you feel good. But:

“But don't think that's gon' make me give it up

Boy, your time is up”

But that doesn't mean, however, that you take action on it. It doesn't mean you give in to temptation. It was nice, but no thanks. Bye-bye.

Outro:

“It'll take more”

It takes more than good looks, money, and fake, shiny people from L.A.

And that's it, dear Anon 🙃 This is just a funny song about a situation that happened in a club, in which Lauren shows her flirtatious side but also her loyal side. It wasn't that good for her image, but I have an explanation for that as well.

Remember how I initially said that Lauren wrote this song to give it to someone else and then decided to keep it for herself after modifying the original lyrics? Well, in my opinion, she ‘decided to keep it’ and was even chosen as a single, simply for the narrative. It was chosen to go along with the fake love square cheating bullshit [Lauren and Ty who cheated on Lucy and Alycia to be together]. People should have believed even more that Lauren was a person capable of cheating, and this song served the purpose.

🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍

Aaand I'm done 😜 I hope I was helpful in this case too 😄 Thank you all for your asks and as usual, know that I'm available for those who have questions, so feel free to ask 😊

Always remember to be kind, to others and to yourselves. Be a good example. Be patient. Be safe and take care of yourselves. Don't let our ship sink. Keep shipping them, but please respectfully 🙏🏼 Sending you virtual love and hugs 🤗🤗🤗 I love you, babies. Always with love, F ❤️

[sundaysundaes]

A Shatter in The Dark

Mark Lee X Lee Donghyuck/Haechan, ft. Taeyong | NC-17 | Smut, Fluff, Action, Angst | Zombie Apocalypse AU

Summary: A lethal virus has killed 90% of the world's population and turns 9.8% into zombie-like, cannibalistic mutants who are extremely vulnerable to the ultraviolet rays in sunlight. And yet, Mark Lee's number one problem is trying to stop himself from staring too long at the way Haechan's jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips.

Warnings: Smut, Major Character Death, Slight Horror and Violence

Also available to read on AO3 here.

It’s strange, Mark thinks, for him to not be able to remember how it all started. Perhaps it’s a way for his mind to release himself from all the traumatic events he has gone through. Perhaps he’s just too scared to even begin to remember the details. Or perhaps he’s just no longer human—not like the way he used to.

“Just keep going,” he mutters to himself—a habit that begins to grow more with each day passing by. It doesn’t necessarily comfort him but it keeps him sane. He needs to hear a human’s voice in his ears, even if that comes from his own mouth.

He has stopped counting days, just like how he’s stopped taking three meals a day. Both for the same reason: to survive longer. His backpack feels heavy on his back and his untrimmed bangs stick uncomfortably to his temple, but he drags his feet along the pavement that’s scorching from the heat of the sun. His throat blazes just as hot, his lips chapped and he needs something to eat.

Back when he was fourteen and his imaginations ran wild from reading too many Stephen King’s horror novels before his bedtime, Mark once imagined how would his town look in a post-apocalyptic universe. He’d visualized the sky with no clouds and thunderbolts striking endlessly. He’d imagined the cracks on the roads with long, tall wild grass growing out of them, as they seek for the sunlight that is now shining bloody red. The air would be toxic, he’d figured, killing everyone who breathes it in without a filter mask and the seas would be dry, making water everyone’s priority and causing civil wars just to get it.

Now that he’s living in a post-apocalyptic world, he notices that it’s nothing like he’d fantasized.

The city of Seoul looks fairly the same, albeit slightly abandoned. Maybe it’s because it’s only been a few months since the outbreak, but the neighbourhood still seems familiar. The plants are unkempt, the bags of dust on the floors are thick in layers, and the pavements are covered with dry leaves. But if Mark closes his eyes for a few seconds, the wind still feels nice on his cheeks, the air still smells like how it does during the end of summer, and he can imagine kids running around down the street. He doesn’t though, because no one around him is alive. He hasn’t met anyone for God knows how long and it’s making him insane.

It’s a fucking ghost town and Mark wishes he could just disappear like everybody else. A few months ago, it was stated that the virus had killed 48% of the world's population. The outbreak had started in Korea as well but his government was trying their best to isolate the island. That was the last news he saw on TV before his mother took the remote control with a quivering hand and turned it off. She turned to her son, eyes trembling in fear, and said, “Let’s pray together. Our Lord will protect us if we pray.”

But Lord’s protection only lasted for two days before his usually calm neighbourhood began to turn into an uproar. The virus had infected one of them and it traveled fast.

Those who had weak bodies, Mark noticed, died within seconds and he witnessed with his own eyes how his father, who had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just a few weeks before, began to bleed from his mouth, nose and ears. It happened so fast, as if something invisible was choking the life out of him and he exploded from the inside. He could remember how his father was reaching out to him, his son’s name on his tongue and Mark stood there in horror, watching his loved one silently screaming in pain with bloody tears running down his eyes before he fell down his chair, smashing his face against the cold floor and gushing out more blood that seemed darker than the night.

Mark didn’t scream even though his mind was so loud; it felt like his brain was going to burst. He thought the virus was infecting him too and it probably was, but as he kept his eyes shut tightly, heart slamming against his ribcage as he counted to ten, he noticed he was fine. He counted again to one minute, then two, then five and he was still the same.

He was… immune. Or at least so he thought.

That was when he began to cry. And when he thought he would stop crying, he cried even harder with his hand pressed against his chest and his mouth desperately gasping for air. He glanced at the way his father’s lifeless body began to rot as if his corpse had been there for days and felt his stomach hurl.

Mark scrambled to his feet, ran upstairs to reach the room at the end of the corridor, praying frantically for his mother to be alive. And when he found her body lying on the bed, he wasn’t sure whether she was. Her body was still warm, her chest was still heaving up and down with the slow breaths she was taking, but no matter how much he tried to shake her awake, she wouldn’t budge. No matter how much he screamed her name, she wouldn’t reply. And no matter how much he cried, she wouldn’t hug him to soothe down his pain.

Hours passed by with Mark sitting at the edge of the bed,  staring at his mother with lifeless eyes, and he realized that his surrounding was quiet. Eerily so. Even the dogs no longer barked. He took a look out of the window and shuddered at the sight. Most of the people he knew from when he was still a child, were lying on the streets with bloody faces, mirroring the way his father was on his kitchen’s floor. With shivering hands, he tried to call the police with his cellphone but he couldn’t get connected. The signal was down, both the tv and his radio no longer worked and it just really hit him that the world was ending.

It took him another hour to process everything, but only a minute for him to finally get up to his feet and walk downstairs. He had a shovel in his hand, and dried tears lining his cheeks.

He began to dig.

***

“Sorry for barging in,” Mark calls, but not hoping for an answer, after he kicked the front door open. The wooden floor creaks under his step, and it rings loudly in this empty neighbourhood that he’s not familiar with. But at this point, anywhere looks the same.

He knows he’s not the only person living in the world. If he’s immune to the virus, then there must be someone else—maybe even a colony—who survive as well. He just needs to find them. He always hopes that he gets to meet someone as he wanders from one house to another, but months have passed and he hasn’t seen a single soul except those who lurk in the night. Those with cloudy white eyes and rotten skin, snarling at the thought of consuming human’s flesh. Those he sees a lot, and he’s been trying his best to avoid them at all cost.

These creatures that wander after the sunsets are something that fourteen-year-old Mark would most likely call zombies. They used to be the monsters of his worst nightmares but after witnessing them with his own eyes, even standing up against one of them once in the battle of his life, Mark noticed that they were not as terrible as he’d guessed. Though they look human, they no longer have the sense of smell as they used to and they simply move based on instincts, triggered by the movements of their prey. But they’re freakishly strong and fast, and even though Mark’s pretty capable of handling his own fight during high school, these creatures can easily break his arm and leg at the same time before Mark can even begin. So he survives by keeping a safe distance, shooting them in the heads or right in their hearts—because those two are their only weaknesses—before they even notice him being there and just does his best to hide during night time.

Mark breathes in and curls his fingers tightly around his handgun. It’s really a blessing, he supposes, that he managed to find a handgun with enough amount of bullets in the drawer of his neighbour’s house. And he really does thank the Lord for giving him the chance to learn how to hunt birds back when he was young with his father during summer. He may lack physical strength, but he’s fast on his feet and good with his eyes. Combined with luck, it’s the very reason he’s survived all these months by himself.

Mark avoids dark places where the sunlight can’t reach at all cost, so he usually doesn’t barge into a house with wooden boards covering its windows and doors like this but he’s starving and this was the closest place available that he could get on foot. Maybe someone used to live here, hiding from them by making a temporary fortress of their own house.

He tries calling again, hoping that someone is still alive but he huffs in disappointment when nobody answers. “Better luck next time, Mark.”

He carefully looks around, making sure he’s safe and alone in the house as he steps toward the kitchen. When he’s certain that everything is under control, he places his gun on the kitchen’s counter and begins to check the drawers, taking every canned food and water bottle he can find into his backpack. He’s so happy to finally find something he’s been dying to drink—a canned watermelon juice—when an arm suddenly circles around his neck and a tip of a spear point knife pressed against his throat.

“Don’t move.”

It takes a few seconds for Mark’s brain to process that it’s a human voice and it’s already sending a relieved, almost joyful feeling all over his body before it finally sinks that this human is now about to slice his throat open with his knife.

“Don’t you think it’s impolite to barge into someone’s house and steal their food?” The human—a man with a voice sounding young enough to be around his age or perhaps younger—asks with a poisonous tone laced on his tongue. “Step away from the counter.”

But despite his snarky tone, Mark can tell he’s nervous from the way he breathes rather raggedly behind him. Mark has learned some basic hand-to-hand combat techniques during his scouting days and he figures he knows how to struggle himself free. He’s just lacking some practices, that’s all.

Well, there’s always a first for everything.

Elbowing the other man hard on the stomach, Mark dips his head down, freeing himself from the other man’s hold and lurches forward to snatch back his gun. Mark already has his gun in his hand but the man steps faster before he can point it to his face. He knees Mark on his stomach, pushing the air out of his lungs and shoves him down to the floor, face first. He punches the gun out of his hand, turns Mark’s body around and straddles him by the waist. Grabbing him by the collar of his black shirt, he lifts Mark’s head high enough in the air so they’re face-to-face.

“Do you want to die, you little shit?!” He screams, knife pressing hard against Mark’s throat that it begins to draw blood. Mark winces from the pain but he takes a moment to see the other man’s face.

He’s young, probably is younger than he is, with a mop of messy ash grey with new brown strands growing at the roots. He has his bangs falling over his big, round chocolate dark eyes. His skin is sun-kissed, and though he sprouts expletives from his mouth, his voice is thin and a bit high-pitched. His features are a bit soft compared to his attitude, and it’s the way he stares at him that stops Mark from moving.

This young man looks terrified beyond belief.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and he genuinely does feel so. “I wasn’t aware that someone was in the house.”

“I think I made that clear before when I told you to not fucking move.”

“You’re right. I guess my instincts just kicked in. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing, though?”

He opens his mouth to retort but loses his words, and Mark smiles a little at him, earning a low growl and another shout from the other man. “Don’t you get all smart with me. Come here!”

Mark is being dragged down across the room by the back of his shirt, until the man finds himself a rope and ties Mark’s hands together behind his back. He pushes Mark down to the floor, tucks his knife safely to the back of his jeans and stares down at him with cautious eyes.

“Who are you?”

“Mark Lee.”

“You’re weak and skinny as fuck. How are you still alive?”

“I don’t know. Lucky, I guess?”

“Lucky—“ He seems shocked at the nonchalant shrug Mark is showing him. “You’ve never met any of them, have you?”

“You mean other people?”

“You know what I mean.”

Of course Mark knows what he’s referring to. He just doesn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t go out at night,” he says, slightly shivering at the thought of doing so.

“No shit, Sherlock,” He mocks, squatting in front of him so they’re eye-to-eye. “Now if I haven’t made it clear before, this house is too small for both of us. I suggest you leave.”

That’s a generous offer considering Mark did barge in without permission to steal his things, but it’s been so long for Mark to finally see another human—one that does not bleed from their face or tries to eat him alive inch by inch—so he stays still and just gazes at him.

“What are you looking at, you little shit?”

“Are you alone?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you want to come together with me?” Mark asks, and before the other man looks disgusted with his generous offer, he adds, “Judging by the food you have left, you can only stay here for three days at most.”

“Longer than if I come with you, I’m sure.”

“Fair enough,” Mark chuckles and he’s surprised by his own voice. “But you never know, though. We’re stronger in numbers.”

“We’ll be targeted more in numbers.”

“I know how to hide,” Mark assures, and it sounds like a promise, which again, kind of surprises him. “I can keep you safe.”

“I literally just whooped your ass.”

“But I’ve survived this far. Trust me. It’s better if we stick together.”

It’s perhaps the certain, confident look in Mark’s eyes that makes the other man contemplates in silence, or maybe just something else entirely because he asks, “What kind of shit have you been through?”

Mark blinks. “Just like everybody else, I suppose.”

Mark can tell that he doesn’t agree with what he says, nor does he trust him, but Mark smiles again at him and asks, “Can you tell me your name? Or should I start calling you ‘little shit’ as well?”

“You’re not very cute, are you?” The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. It looks kind of fluffy, Mark notices, like a furry dog’s coat, as if he washes his hair regularly. And maybe he does, judging by the honey-like scent that comes from him. That’s probably why he lost the battle. He was distracted. “Just call me Haechan.”

“That’s your real name?”

“That’s just how they call me.” He glooms a bit. “Used to, anyway.”

“Well, you can call me Mark.”

“Nah, I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘little shit’.”

“You’re not very cute, are you?” Mark throws back his words at him.

“I’ll grow on you,” he replies, smirking at him and Mark feels dazed for a second—maybe because he got his head slammed against the floor earlier. Maybe.

“All right, Haechannie. Can I call you that?” Haechan grimaces but Mark continues nonetheless. “Haechannie, if it’s okay with you, I’m starving.”

Haechan stands up, looking at him with a bewildered look on his face. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

***

It’s funny how different it is to make friends during the time when everything is okay compared to when it’s at the end of the world but Mark is enjoying Haechan’s company more than he thought he would. It’s true that he’s not the easiest person to be friends with but when you haven’t met someone alive for months, you’d take anyone you could get—even if that person is a devil in disguise who practically spits fire every time he talks.

Haechan, Mark learns after spending an entire week with him, is the type of person who says mean things but doesn’t really mean it. Who laughs when he’s hurting inside. Who bites back with venom when someone insults him in the slightest way. But also, who sees and cares deeply for others even when he, himself, is needing help.

Mark can tell with the way Haechan secretly throws a blanket over him whenever Mark falls deep asleep on the couch. Or with the way he casually glides a warm cup of coffee down the table for Mark to catch every morning. Or simply by saying, “Watch your steps,” or “Be careful, you idiot,” whenever Mark goes out of the house to find some food and supplies during the day.

After three more days have passed, Mark insists for both of them to move out and Haechan finally agrees, saying, “I hate this house anyway,” even though his eyes do a double-take before he closes the front door.

“Is this your house?” Mark finally asks and he feels sorry for dragging him along like this but it’s for the sake of their safety.

Haechan, to Mark’s surprise, shakes his head and only mumbles, “Just had some memory with it.”

Mark slings an arm around his shoulders. “Then let’s just make another one. A much more fun one.”

Haechan smiles, but it’s bitter.

***

“I can’t believe you’ve never even tried to drive a car,” Haechan says, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple as he tries to hotwire a car. His black sleeveless shirt is sticking to his skin, and his plump cheeks are painted with tints of red from the heat. Mark has to remind himself to look away before he stares too long at how the muscles on his upper arm flex whenever he hammers a flathead screwdriver into a keyhole.

They had to choose between an Audi and a Wrangler, and Mark loved the Audi and Haechan probably did too but he always picked the opposite of Mark’s choice to spite him so they ended up with an eight-year-old Wrangler with a lot of scratches on the side.

“Well, I love walking.”

“What a load of bullshit, Mark.”

“What—it’s true! And also, it’s expensive, okay? I don’t steal expensive things. It makes me feel guilty.” Mark tries to add some common sense which makes Haechan roll his eyes in return. “Besides, I don’t have a driving license yet.”

“Neither do I, wimp, but I still drive.” He chucks out his screwdriver with a proud smirk on his face. The car’s engine is running loud—too loud for Mark’s liking but as long as it’s daylight, they should be fine.

“Driving without a license is irresponsible.” Mark puts his seatbelt on as he sits next to him on the front seat with his backpack tucked between his legs. “And dangerous.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I better stop before I get arrested by the nonexistent police officers around here.”

Mark sighs. There’s no winning an argument against this kid. They bicker more often than not, and just when they reach the end of their bickering, they will bicker again over a new topic and it really just goes endlessly but Mark is enjoying every second of it.

Haechan drives like a mad man to the point that Mark has to close his eyes and swallow the vomit that’s about to erupt from his mouth. “Jesus Christ, Haechan-ah, shouldn’t you slow down a bit?!”

“Why, because there’s traffic ahead?” Haechan snickers, turning the car window next to him all the way down and smiling as the wind ruffles his hair. “Loosen up a little, Canada, you need to live and enjoy the moment.”

Mark wheezes and almost faints when Haechan suddenly makes a u-turn just for fun before he steps on the gas again, blasting through the empty road. They’re now crossing the Seongsu Bridge, which overlooks the infamous Han River and weirdly enough, the entire place is empty—not even one car in sight—and Mark remembers how the government tried to isolate the country and lock people in their own houses to contain the outbreak. That’s probably why.

“I am trying to live,” Mark says as he clutches his seatbelt tightly with both hands. “Which is the more reason why you should be care—BRAKES, HIT THE BRAKES!”

And Haechan does, almost at the last moment before their jeep jumps into the river. The rest of the bridge has collapsed and Haechan was too busy looking at how clear and big the river was to notice the part where they’re about to fall off the edge.

Well, fuck, Mark thinks, so this is why there are no cars around.

Mark looks at Haechan with the most menacing, sadistic glare he’s ever made in his life. The younger man, in return, only grins mischievously and says, “Oops?”

They begin their search for a place to stay with Mark sitting behind the wheel this time. Haechan constantly whines and whines and whines about his driving not because he’s bad at it—he’s actually pretty good though Haechan won’t admit—but because he’s too fucking slow.

“Who the fuck drives twenty miles-per-hour on an empty street?!”

“People who nearly died from driving too fast, that’s who.”

“I hate you.”

“I’ll grow on you.”

They take a stop at the gas station to fill up the tank and Haechan steals three bags of Cheetos, four bottles of beer for himself and one bottle of mineral water for Mark because you’re the designated driver and Mark punches him on the shoulder.

***

“This house is nice.” Haechan settles down on the leather-clad sofa, throwing his bag on the floor and propping his legs on the table. “I think we should just stay here and never move out. Ever.”

It is a nice house. It’s not particularly huge, and it doesn’t have a second floor or a balcony which is completely fine. It’s safer that way, and it also has a basement with a comfy couch, a pile of board games, and a wine cellar. They can really use that to hide during critical moments, but he better checks it thoroughly first because again, those… things really enjoy dark places.

“We’ll see about that,” Mark responses, exhaling in relief when he’s sure that the place is safe. No zombies in sight. No trace of blood or human flesh. Just a nice, warm house with ultra-wide flat-screen TV and the latest version of PlayStation. Yeah, they probably should just stay here forever.

“Haechannie,” Mark starts but finishes early when he sees the young man sleeping with his puffy lips slightly parted. Mark smiles, he must’ve been so tired. They have been wandering for hours after all, trying to look for the best place to stay. But the sun is setting, and they have to cover all the windows and the doors to make sure that the zombies won’t be able to hear their voices or see their movements during the night.

“Haechannie,” Mark says, softer this time as he leans closer. “Haechan-ah, wake up. We still have work to do.”

There’s this sound that Haechan makes, somewhere between a soft moan and a sultry whine, that makes Mark feel a bit weird but he pushes the thoughts to the back of his head when Haechan slowly opens his eyes.

“Ugh,” he says, yawning, “You again.”

And Mark chuckles a bit. “Sorry, were you expecting someone else?” It was supposed to be a joke, but Haechan freezes at his words. “Haechannie?”

“What?” He asks, trying to act as normal as possible but Mark catches on. “Stop calling my name like that, it’s gross.” He stands up before Mark can blurt anything else and immediately says, “Come on, start working. I wanna sleep early.”

They sleep in different rooms like always, only this time, Mark spends his night staring at the ceiling and wonders whether he said something wrong earlier. But no matter how much he visited his memory and replayed the conversation, he still couldn’t find his fault. He remembered the hurting look Haechan had on his face, though, and it bothered him so much that he began to lose sleep.

The next morning, Mark feels even worse not solely because he didn’t catch much rest but because Haechan looks like he’s been crying himself to sleep.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks, staring at the other man’s face as if Haechan is about to turn into a zombie.

“Are you okay?” Haechan is clearly trying to distract Mark away from him. “You look like you haven’t slept for years.”

“I was…” Mark fumbles with his words. “Distracted, I guess.”

“With what?”

He doesn’t answer and Haechan spends a few seconds analyzing him before he finally sighs and grumbles, “I guess we both have secrets. I’m gonna make some pancakes. Want some?”

Mark lightly nods though his heart still lays heavy in his chest. But if there are things he can’t tell, then maybe Haechan does too. Maybe all they need is time.

But time is limited in this world, even more so than before.

***

“Have you taken a shower yet?” Haechan asks with a towel hanging around his neck. His hair is damp and he sniffles with his nose slightly red from the cold. “No, wait, let me rephrase that. Have you ever taken a shower?”

Mark begins to count the little holes on the wooden floor  underneath his feet to avoid looking at the way Haechan’s jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, or the droplets of water that drips from his chin to his bare chest.

“Get dressed, Haechan-ah, aren’t you cold?”

“No, the heater is on.” But he still sniffs as he picks up his hoodie. “Look, I know I’ve been calling you little shit but that doesn’t give you the authority to actually smell like one.”

“Huh,” Mark takes a hold of his shirt, sniffing against the fabric. “Wow, I do kind of smell.”

“Kind of? I’m shocked that these zombies haven’t found us already from how god awful you smell.”

“Don’t call them zombies, you’re being rude.”

“What the fuck do you call them?”

“Sick people?”

“Jesus Christ, I literally can’t with you.” He sits down next to him on the other side of the couch, pressing his back against the furniture and stares at the ceiling. “What are we having for breakfast today?”

“Canned food.”

“Dinner?”

“Canned food.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Wait, I think we can eat…” Mark doesn’t finish right away, making sure that Haechan has a hopeful look blossoming on his face. When he does, he finishes with, “Canned food.”

“Aaaaaah~” He whines in the way Haechan always whines which sounds kind of childish but endearing to Mark’s ears. “I’m so tired of having fucking canned foods every day!”

“Be grateful that we have food.”

“I’d be more grateful if we have real food. Can’t you make yourself useful for once and cook something?”

“We don’t really have the ingredients.”

“Then I guess, we’re going shopping.” Haechan huffs before he glances at the slightly taller man. “After you take a goddamn shower.”

Mark can no longer remember when was the last time he took a shower—and a nice, warm one at that—so he almost weeps in joy when the warm droplets rain down on him, washing all the dust and fatigue away from his body. He stands still, enjoying the warmth before he reaches out for some soap and lathers it down his skin. He notices he has some bruises along his arm from where he tripped down the stairs yesterday, trying to help Haechan carry a medium-sized cupboard to cover the front door. I can’t believe you couldn’t even keep yourself up even when I’m practically handling all the weight, Haechan scolded him with both hands on his hips and it makes him smile at the thought.

But the bruises remind him of the pain he felt and pain reminds him of his mother. Of the way she suddenly jolted her eyes awake after five days had passed. Of the way she bared her teeth, lurched herself toward him, and tried to bury her fangs and peel the skin off his body. Of the way he shook in horror, screaming in pain and the way he begged her to stop.

And of the way he sank the kitchen’s knife to her chest and kept it that way until she stopped moving.

“What took you so long?” Haechan asks when Mark finally steps outside the bathroom after half an hour has passed. He observes the look on his face before he adds, “How can you look even shittier after taking a shower? Your eyes are swollen.”

Mark rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, I kinda cried while in there.”

“Because the shower was so good?”

“Sure.”

And Haechan doesn’t contribute any further, perhaps because of the way Mark looks like it’s something private they should both leave out of the conversation. Or maybe Haechan simply doesn’t care, Mark can’t be sure.

Mark doesn’t recognize the neighbourhood they’re in, so he lets Haechan leads the way to the nearest supermarket. The morning sun is warm on his skin, the leaves on the trees are turning orange and Mark can finally smell autumn after so long. He has grown tired of summer. It’s about damn time.

“Oh, I actually know this place,” Mark mentions, as they park their car a few feet away from the building.

“Congratulations, you just won at life,” Haechan utters flatly, taking three sheathed knives from his backpack and places them around the belt of his jeans.

“Must you be so rude all the time?”

“Just messing with you, Canada. Chill.”

“Why don’t you take any guns with you?”

“Because guns run out of bullets pretty fast. And these,” he stops with a smirk on his face, twirling a pocket knife around his fingers, “don’t.”

“Can you teach me sometimes how to use that?”

“And what do you have to offer, may I ask?”

Mark contemplates in silence. He really doesn’t have anything that might interest him, so he decides to joke about it. “My body?”

To his surprise, Haechan’s eyes grow wide and he doesn’t speak a word and it’s so weird because it’s supposed to be a fucking joke.

“I… I was just—” Mark splutters, blushing at his own antic. “I was just kidding.”

“It’s not funny, Mark.”

“Sorry.”

And Haechan lets out the loudest sigh ever before he steps down the car, leaving Mark inside looking like a goddamn idiot that he is.

“Okay, so,” Haechan straightens his posture, standing in front of the entrance door with his machete lays firmly on his hand. “Do we need a plan?”

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, come on, Mark,” Haechan whines. “Yes, I know we can barely get any sunlight inside the store but we’re not going to take long. We’ll just grab some things and run back here. Even if there are zombies in there, they’ll be burnt to a crisp the second we’re outside.”

“But—”

“Marrrrkkkkkk.”

“Okay, okay, fine!” Mark pushes his hair back with one hand in defeat. “I’ll go first,” he says, cocking his handgun. “You watch my back.”

“Why do you have to go first?”

“Because I’m older.”

“But you’re shittier than me.”

“With a gun on my hand? Not as shitty as you’d think.” Mark smirks, and he thinks he sounds cool but by the way Haechan is staring at him, he realizes he’s not. A flashback of Haechan completely overpowering him even when he had his gun came back to his mind and he winces at the thought. “Okay, so, you wanna go first?”

Haechan sighs, taking a step forward. Mark trails after him soon after.

Mark remembers this place, knows every aisle like the back of his hand from how often he accompanied his mother to stock up their groceries every weekend. It doesn’t look like what he’d committed in his memory in the slightest, though. The lights are still on, but they’re flickering here and there and ceramic tiles are mostly covered with liquid stuff coming from bleachers, oils or something Mark can no longer tell. Most of the shelves are empty and a lot of goods are thrown all over the place, but  fortunately, they’re not ruined.

Mark analyzes the place as best as he can with Haechan leading the way, doing the same. Everything seems fine and he can see Haechan’s shoulders relaxed a bit after a while. Swirling his knife around his fingers, he says, “I guess we’re alone.”

Mark nods. “All right,” he puts his gun on safety. “Let’s shop.”

Haechan says he wanted to eat some pasta for a change, and Mark follows with a hum. Anything other than canned foods sounds good these days. They stroll around the aisle, taking the necessary ingredients into their bags along with some toiletries and an abundance amount of water bottles.

Mark notices some board games when Haechan is busy flipping through pages of a Playboy magazine and he takes one that suits Haechan’s taste so they can spend more time together.

Mark freezes at the thought. Since when did he begin to want to spend time together with this pain in the ass?

“Yo, little shit,” Haechan calls, and Mark sighs. “Come here for a sec.”

Mark sneaks a glance over Haechan’s shoulders and feels his heart stops for a split second. “That’s—”

“Blood,” Haechan finishes, exchanging glances at him. “We’re not alone.”

Mark is still processing it down when a loud noise suddenly comes from two aisles behind them. With his heart jumping to his throat, Mark keeps his hands steady and points his gun forward. Haechan looms behind him, taking a long knife from the back of his shirt in another hand and stands alert.

“If it’s more than one, we run.”

“Don’t order me around, you little shit.”

But at this point, Mark knows how much Haechan depends on him and will follow his order in a heartbeat, which is kinda cute and reassuring, Mark thinks, as he swallows his breath. He’s prepared for the worst but what comes along is—

“It’s a dog!” Haechan claims, tucking both of his knives back around his belt and squats down on the floor next to Mark. “Come here, boy!”

It’s a Yellow Spitz, Mark notices, or a Nureongi people used to call. It has a short coat with patches of yellow and a melanistic mask on its face. By the sound of Haechan’s call, the dog comes running toward him with its mouth opened wide and its tongue lolling down.

“Ouch!” Haechan is laughing, enjoying the forceful tackle from the excited dog, and rubbing his hands along the fur. “Who’s a good boy?” He asks, rubbing the tip of his nose to the dog’s. “Yes, you are, you are a good boy—wait, no—“ Haechan grimaces when the dog licks his entire face, saliva blabbering over his skin but he laughs it off.

Mark stands on the side with a smile he secretly keeps to himself. He has never seen Haechan looking so young and open, like a child on his first trip, and it amuses him. “I didn’t know you could look like this,” he comments. “You should smile more often. It’s cute.”

Mark’s a bit taken by the look that fleets across Haechan’s face for a split second, and he swears that he just saw him blush but it’s too short to be sure about it.

“Maybe if you grow some fur, I will,” Haechan merely comments before he sticks his tongue out at him.

Mark only playfully rolls his eyes in response.

“Can we keep him?” Haechan’s asks as he cups the dog’s face and nuzzles their noses together. “You are so cute!”

“No. What happens if he barks?”

“But he doesn’t bark.” The dog suddenly barks two times and Haechan immediately wraps his fingers along its jaw to keep its mouth shut. “Or I can just do this whenever he does.” The dog growls, trying to wiggle itself away from Haechan’s grip. It suddenly looks nervous, almost terrified.

“Haechan,” Mark insists, “He’ll only attract attention. You know we can’t—”

“MARK, WATCH OUT—”

It happens so fast that by the time he realizes what’s happening, Mark is already on the ground, his back pressed against the ceramic floor with a zombie on top of him, baring his teeth and clawing at his skin. It’s in the form of a middle-aged man, in a cashier uniform with cloudy white eyes and dark veins covering his skin.

Luckily, Mark already has his hands in front of him, pushing that thing as far away as he could manage but it’s too strong. The zombie roars, spraying saliva mixed with blood onto his face and Mark immediately throws his head to the side. “Fuck!” He hisses, kicking it several times with his knee but it won’t budge, until suddenly a knife makes it way to its head, pushing through its brain and ending its life for good.

Haechan stares at Mark with horrified eyes, before he kneels down in front of him and immediately checks his face.

“Did you get his blood in your mouth?!” He asks frantically, worried to death by the look of it, almost like it was him who just got sprayed with zombie’s blood.

“I don’t think I did,” Mark says, still feeling quite dizzy.

“Spit it out!” Haechan shakes him desperately by the shoulders. “Spit everything out! Now!”

Mark doesn’t understand why he’s so afraid—because aren’t they both supposed to be immune to the virus?—but spits out a few times just in case. He rubs the back of his hand against his mouth before he turns toward the other man. “Thanks for saving me.”

And Mark thought that Haechan was going to sigh loudly at him and call him an idiot little shit for a few times on their way home, but what he does is lean forward and wrap his arms tightly around Mark’s shoulders.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmurs almost in a whisper, before he pulls back, clears his throat and adds, “You little shit. You’re lucky you have me saving your ass.”

Well, Mark supposes, he’s partially right about his thought. “I am.”

Haechan blushes again, but he doesn’t let Mark see.

“Come on, we should get under the sun,” Haechan says, offering a hand which Mark gladly takes. “If there are more of them, we should be safe as long we’re outside.”

“Still want to take that dog with you?”

“Shut up, little shit.”

***

“Come on, you have to pick truth,” Mark says, with a guitar on his lap, playing random chord that matches Haechan’s hums. It’s still two hours away before the sun sets and they have been spending the entire day just lounging around watching old movies and playing stupid board games. “It’s called Truth or Dare for a reason, Haechannie, and I’m already out of ideas of what kind of dare you should do because apparently, you have no fear—or shame for that matter—when it comes to it.”

“You’re just not creative enough,” Haechan says, smirking to himself because he’s undefeated when it comes to taking a dare. Whenever Mark tries to humiliate him, it ends up with Haechan humiliating him instead. “Okay, fine, truth it is. Give it to me, you little shit.”

“You do realize that I’m your hyung, right?”

“Well, then, give it to me, Little Shit-hyung.” Haechan snickers and Mark throws his shoe at him.

“When’s your birthday?” Mark asks, munching a chocolate cookie.

“That’s your question?” Haechan exclaims. “Shit, Mark, I know you’re boring but I never thought you’d be this boring.”

“I just want to know you better!” Mark laughs when Haechan starts throwing Cheetos at him. “What is so wrong with that? You know you’d never tell me these things if I didn’t force you to do it.”

“Fine, geez,” Haechan succumbs, “Sixth of June.”

“Wait, let me put that in real quick.” Mark takes out his cellphone from the pocket of his jeans. It can no longer make calls or surf the internet, but it can come in handy to keep himself on track with dates and times. “Sixth of June,” he mutters to himself as he taps his thumb on his phone screen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m adding your birthday to my calendar.”

“Yes, I know, Mark.” Haechan rolls his eyes impatiently. “I mean, why?”

“Why?” Mark laughs a bit, looking at him bewilderedly. “‘Cause we’re friends, you idiot.”

“We are?” Haechan dramatically gasps, which earns him a kick on the knee and he whines loudly about it.

“I just think we should celebrate it together,” Mark continues without a care. “Well, starting next year anyway, since we’ve both passed our birthdays by now. One sec.” He holds up a finger, running his thumb on his screen again. “Sixth of June. Little Shit’s birthday. And save.”

Haechan glares but doesn’t make any remark on it. “What’s there to celebrate about?” He questions flatly. “The world is ending, if you haven’t noticed.”

“And that’s your reason to not celebrate birthdays?” Mark snorts. “I know you’re boring but I never thought you’d be this boring.”

“I am going to strangle you.”

Mark kicks him playfully on the knee again and they begin to wrestle until they become hungry. After quickly heating up some leftovers from the night before, they head toward their bedrooms.

“Stay quiet, little shit,” Haechan says, as he leans against his doorframe. “And if you’re gonna jack off—“

Mark throws a pillow on his face. “Just go to bed!”

“Okay, okay,” Haechan chuckles. “See you soon, Mark.”

“See you soon, Haechannie.”

Before Mark knows it, those words they say to each other become some kind of habit that they do every night. And the more they say them, the more they become like a promise for one another. It’s something that Mark needs, he realizes, because now he has someone to look forward to see in the morning. Someone with smiles as warm as the sun. And Mark can forget, at least for now, the fact that he’d lost everything and try to stay alive for another day.

***

Autumn is about to end and the weather is terrible for  Mark during the night, as he can barely stand cold. He can turn on the heater, of course, but it will probably make too much noise so both he and Haechan agree to just slip under the duvet, and wrap as many blankets as they can find around their bodies.

Mark jolts awake when he hears his bedroom door being opened with a soft creak. His ears are now trained to keep himself alert at night, even with the slightest sound. He has one leg down the bed, ready to do whatever it takes to survive if a zombie comes barging in. His handgun lays safely under his pillow and it will only take a second for him to grab it. He had tampered his window with wood boards on the first day they’d settled here, but the moonlight still somehow sneaks in between the tiny spaces, giving very little light into the room but it’s enough for Mark to notice that it’s only Haechan, standing with his pillow pressed against his chest, a blanket around his body, and a pale look on his face.

What happened? Mark asks, moving his hands and fingers in a sign language they have both learned to survive. Is something wrong?

I can’t sleep. Haechan says, and Mark can’t really tell within the darkness of the room whether it’s a blush appearing on his cheeks or it’s just the moonlight playing tricks on him. Can I stay here with you?

Mark nods, and Haechan walks close, settling himself down on the carpeted floor next to the bed. Mark taps his shoulder and when Haechan looks over, he nudges his head toward the bed.

Come up. It’s cold.

Haechan nibbles on his bottom lip, hesitation in his eyes, but he finally stands up and wiggles himself under the blanket. Mark scoots over to give him as much space as he can, and they both end up staring at the ceiling, awkwardness and silence filling the air.

It seems like a minute has passed by but it feels like forever and Mark is about to throw up from how fast his heart is beating and he’s asking himself why the fuck am I feeling like this when Haechan suddenly turns over to his side and whispers his name.

Mark can feel his own body stiffen but he tries his best to relax. He turns to his side as well, facing him. “Hmm?”

“Can I move closer?” He asks and Mark’s stomach does a flip. “So I can hear you better, I mean.”

“S-sure.”

And Haechan moves close—close enough for Mark to breath in his scent, to know that he uses the same shampoo as he does even though there are three different kinds of bottles in the bathroom, and it somehow smells way better on him and Mark doesn’t know what to do with it but it distracts him so much.

“You okay?” Haechan’s voice is soft and lacks the usual snarky tone he usually laces his sentence with. Mark nods, a bit shakily and the younger man giggles quietly. “I know it’s uncomfortable sharing a bed with another dude but bear with me this time, will ya?”

“It’s…” Somehow, Mark’s throat feels like burning. “It’s not uncomfortable.”

Something gleams in Haechan’s eyes and Mark has to look somewhere else so he doesn’t fall deeper into that pair of chocolate brown eyes more than he already does.

“So, uhh,” Mark clears his throat. It’s weird that even when he’s whispering, his voice still breaks from how nervous he is. “Is there a particular reason why you can’t sleep?”

“Why so formal, Mark Lee.” Haechan snorts. “Must there be a particular reason for us to sleep together?”

Mark almost chokes at Haechan’s poor choice of words. Almost.

“How many hours left till dawn?”

“Umm,” Mark checks his phone, making sure he covers the light with his pillow. “It’s actually around two hours from now.”

“Well then, you’ve slept enough,” Haechan says, propping his chin on the pillow as he stares at him. “Accompany me till morning?”

“Sure, why not.”

And so he does, exchanging whispers in the dark and changing topics from one nonsense to another. Talking with Haechan is relaxing, Mark notices, though more often than not, it ends with an argument but he enjoys arguing with him. It feels like he’s learning more about him, more about the real Haechan—the one who is acting almost as young as a child—and not whatever it is he’s trying his best to be. And Mark is always happy to learn something new because he’s been studying Haechan’s figure over and over for the last few days and it’s tiring to be distracted by the shape of his pretty lips, or the cute tiny mole he has on his neck, or the sway of his hips when he walks.

“Are you sleepy?” Haechan asks after silence starts to grow within them and Mark curses inwardly. How the hell can I sleep when I’m so distracted with the way I can feel your breath on my neck is what he has in mind but on the outside, he just gives a nonchalant shrug and says, “Not really.”

“Good then.” Mark swears he can feel Haechan’s smile in his words and he can also feel the way he snuggles a tad closer, seeking his warmth. “Hey, Mark?” Mark hums in response. “How come you’re alone? I mean, someone as nice and frail as you can only live so long in a world like this without company.”

“I’m not sure whether you want to compliment me or insult me.”

“I just want to know more about you.”

It’s sincere and genuine, the way Haechan says it, and Mark raises an eyebrow, finally looking into his eyes again. “That’s a first. I thought you didn’t care about me.”

It’s Haechan’s turn to break off their gazes. “Believe me, I don’t. It’s just out of curiosity. Wha—is it so wrong? Stop looking at me like that!”

Mark bites his bottom lip to contain his laughter. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up!”

“Well, if you’re so curious about it,” Mark teases and Haechan pushes his palm against his face to wipe off his grin. Mark wraps his fingers around Haechan’s wrist to keep him away but he holds it a little bit longer than he’s supposed to before he lets go.

“I was staying with my parents when the outbreak happened,” Mark begins, locking his eyes at the ceiling and he can feel Haechan’s gaze scanning his face but he doesn’t dare to look. “Someone near my house got infected, and it traveled so fast that by the time I realized that the virus was airborne, people were already dying. And I—” Mark stops to take a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as the flashback hits him like a wave.

Haechan doesn’t say a word, but he reaches out to tangle his fingers around his under the blanket and Mark blinks at the touch before he smiles to himself.

“I watched my dad died,” Mark finally says, and it’s easier than he expected to be, probably because Haechan’s warmth is seeping into his skin. “It happened so fast. He was sitting on the dining table, already looking pale because of cancer that took him apart day by day, but the second he got infected, it was like something was exploding within him. And I watched him crumble, watched him reaching out to me for help and I just stood there. Watching him.”

Haechan holds his hand tighter. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

Mark smiles weakly at him. “Thanks. I just wish I did something for him, you know? Like, hold his hand and tell him I love him, or something.”

“You were stunned.”

“I was just weak and afraid.” Mark unconsciously curls his fingers a bit harder that Haechan begins to wince but he doesn’t say anything about it. “I was so afraid that I’d die, just like him. It was until I found out I was immune that I began to cry and regret the whole thing. I’m the worst, aren’t I?”

Haechan shakes his head, whispering, “I would’ve done the same. Maybe even worse,” he adds a chuckle and it’s so genuine that Mark begins to feel like the heavy pain in his chest is being lifted little by little. “And your mom? What happened to her?”

It’s the question he’s been dreading the most but Haechan’s voice is silky smooth in his ears, and his touch is scorching against his skin, and as Mark breathes in his scent, everything becomes clear.

There’s a first for everything.

“My mom—” It still feels like he’s suffocating, so he intertwines his fingers with Haechan’s a little better to distract him from the pain. “When she got infected, she fell into a deep sleep. Like she went into a coma or something. And I was relieved because I thought she was going to wake up and smile at me again. I thought that her body was healing. I didn’t realize that she was… turning.”

Haechan’s breathing is steady while Mark’s is catching fire. “Mark, look at me.” And when Mark is too lost in his own thoughts, Haechan cups his cheek and forces him to look at him. “You’re okay. You’re with me now.”

Mark’s eyes are shaking but he gradually finds back his pace, finally able to catch his own breath. “I’m with you now,” he whispers back and Haechan smiles.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Haechan says, rubbing comforting circles on the side of Mark’s face with his thumb. “And I kinda have a hunch on where this story is going.”

“You—“ Mark wets his lips. “You do?”

Haechan’s gaze is intense but gentle enough to wash Mark’s anxiety away. “All I have to say is,” Haechan starts, “We all have our sins. What you did was based on instinct. You were trying to protect yourself. Anyone would’ve done the same thing so stop blaming yourself.”

Mark doesn’t realize he’s crying until Haechan wipes a tear away from his cheek. “You’re innocent, Mark Lee,” he assures, smiling at him. “You’re just living in a shitty world, that’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mark says, smiling a little to himself as he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, washing all of his tears away. “Who are you and what have you done to my snarky-ass Haechan?”

“Your Haechan?”

Mark blushes. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Haechan’s eyes gleam in a teasing manner. “What way then?”

Mark clears his throat. Hopefully, the night can cover how nervous he looks right now. “So, what about you?” He begins, putting his best effort to change topics. “What kind of sins have you committed that you start getting nightmares at night?”

The easy-going, reassuring facade Haechan tries to put on all night falters within an instant and this time, in the darkness and the silence of this room, he chooses to be honest.

“No,” he starts, exhaling heavily. “Nightmares happen only when you’re asleep. What I have happens when I’m awake.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“It’s not something I want,” he murmurs quietly. “But I guess, it’s something I need. Otherwise, I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy.” He locks their gazes together, smiling like he’s on the verge of crying. “Would you mind hearing me out?”

Mark will listen as if his life depends on it and he promises him that in his heart. He nods.

“Promise you won’t judge me?”

Another nod.

“Promise you won’t leave me behind?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Haechan still looks unsure, but the more he takes in Mark’s feature and every detail of his expression, the more he wants to let go—to finally succumb to his sin, to hear someone say, “It’s okay, I forgive you. We all have our sins. We are not different.”

So in shaky whispers, he begins to tell the story and Mark listens.

Haechan was not alone before he met Mark. He had a family. He had a sister, only younger than he was by two years, and he’d loved her. He’d loved her so much that when his parents started to collapse, he took a hold of her hand and drag her to run without looking back even when his mother was still screaming his name, asking him for help. He knew it was too late to save them, but saving his sister was not.

Her sister, just like him, was also immune to the virus and Haechan thought everything was fine. They could still live and be happy together. So they began to wander during the day, and hugged each other to sleep during the night at an abandoned house, sharing headphones to mute down the snarling sounds of the creatures lurking around under the moonlight. They were okay. They were alive.

Until one day, when Haechan was too busy getting supplies from the kitchen, her sister wandered by herself toward the basement of a new house they found. Haechan didn’t know about it, wasn’t careful enough to check, and when he heard her scream, he realized it was too late.

There was a zombie, trapped inside the basement that crawled out when she opened the door. It was so fast, jumping on top of her and ripping the skin on her arm with its teeth. Haechan was so frantic that he began to stab it multiple times on the face, tearing its face apart again and again and again until his sister embraced him from behind and begged him to stop. Haechan held her in his arms like he’d never held anyone before and he thanked God for letting her stay alive, though badly injured.

Because he thought her injury would heal.

He thought she wouldn’t get infected because she was immune.

But when she became paler and paler with more days passing by, Haechan began to worry. Her skin began to rot little by little, and her stench was so strong that Haechan began to hold his breath whenever she was close. Black veins were creeping up her skin and she lost her beautiful brown eyes soon after, having them changed into a pair of cloudy white eyes.

Haechan was so afraid by the look of her that he began to apologize. Sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me, he said again and again as he wrapped a scarf around her mouth, stopping her from calling his name. She was begging for him to spare her life and yet he held his knife firmly with both of his shaking hands, and he plunged it toward her chest.

She died in his hands, along with a part of him.

“She was still human when I killed her,” Haechan confesses, his voice quivering. “She kept asking me why, why are you doing this but I kept going. I can still remember how warm her blood was on my hands. I was so afraid. I was so afraid of her.”

Mark does not speak during his story and he finds himself lost for words when Haechan grows quiet. The silence is deafening and he knows he should say something, anything, but he’s busy trying to understand the look on Haechan’s face.

Their breathing matches each other’s and Haechan quietly laughs, “You know, it’s weird. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry but—”

And he breaks apart in the way Mark never sees anyone does.

Haechan’s whole body shakes as he gives his best effort to muffle his scream by biting his lower lip hard enough to the point it almost draws blood. He covers his face with both hands, sobbing furiously to his palms and even if he tries his best to be quiet, Haechan is still making noise.

And Mark wonders whether it’s because of that very reason of survival or it’s just really something he’s been wanting to do every time Haechan beams at him with that blazing smile of his, but he finds himself reaching forward, tangling his fingers around the strands of Haechan’s hair and pulls the other boy forward until their lips meet in a frantic kiss.

Haechan’s eyes grow wide for a good couple of seconds and Mark finally comes back to his senses when he notices the way the other boy stiffens in his arms. Haechan has momentarily stopped crying due to the sudden surprise, though the tremor of his previous sobs is still there and he’s looking at Mark with these huge, mesmerizing round eyes, with nothing but confusion and shock on his face, and Mark begins to ask himself what the fuck did I just do.

“Fuck, I—” Mark has never struggled this hard to find the right word in his entire life. “I didn’t know why—”

But he probably doesn’t need to say anything, because Haechan is taking the rest of his sentence into his own mouth, and tasting Mark’s feelings directly with his tongue. He’s being forceful, pulling Mark close with all his strength until the other man stumbles upon him and they’re pressed together chest-to-chest. Haechan has his hands circling around the collar of Mark’s shirt, smashing their lips together and they kiss hard and fast, tasting each other’s—owning each other’s—mouth until Mark is breathing his breath and Haechan is breathing his.

“More,” Haechan gasps, teeth nibbling against Mark’s bottom lip. “More, Mark, please.” And Mark just crumbles, moaning against his mouth and takes every soft whine that comes from Haechan into his memory.

None of them care at this point if they’re being too loud, so it’s really their luck that the sun has risen outside, its light seeping through the window, basking them with warmth but none of them need it. Not with the way Mark is hovering above him, his hands slipping under Haechan’s sweater, running his fingertips along the golden skin and emitting more moans from the other man.

“Haechannie.” Mark has his earlobe between his teeth and he sucks at the soft skin, before peppering kisses down the column of his neck. Haechan arches his back, grinding their hips together and begs him to, “Take my fucking clothes off, Mark.”

Clothes are scattered on the floor within an instant, and as Mark sits on his lap just for a few seconds as he pulls his own shirt over his head, Haechan is already latching his mouth on his stomach, licking a stripe up his chest before he pulls Mark down on top of him again.

“I want to feel you,” Haechan breathes out between gasps, “I want to feel all of you.”

“Calm down,” Mark says, softly smiling against his forehead “I’m not going anywhere.”

And they stop just to take a thorough glance at each other’s face now that the light is bright enough for them to see properly. Haechan traces his fingers on the side of Mark’s face, as if he’s a sculpture waiting to be adored, and it takes all the control of his body not to kiss him again right then.

“I’m really glad I met you,” he whispers as he brings his lips to Mark’s, pausing momentarily, just to add, “You little shit.”

And Mark laughs into his mouth but only for a moment before passion starts to take control of him again and he’s moaning, “Haechannie, Haechannie,” directly to his ear as they rock their hips together.

***

It’s already midday when Mark opens his eyes, sitting on his bed with a blank stare as if his soul just left his body. He thinks he just had the most pleasant dream he’s ever witnessed in his twenty-one years of living, but when he notices how his pillow smells like honey, realization hits him like a wave.

It’s not a dream. Haechan was really here.

So he jumps down his bed, trips over his own clothes and swears under his breath as he tries to dress as fast as he can. He stumbles out of his room, running toward the kitchen where he finds Haechan sitting on the kitchen’s counter with his legs dangling in the air.

Haechan’s eyes slightly grow wide at the sight of Mark standing gawkily in front of him with his terrible bed hair, but he quickly gains control of himself. “Morning,” he casually says, raising the red colored mug he always uses, “Coffee?”

Mark curls his fingers around the fabric of his sweat pants. “Okay.”

It’s awkward. It feels so, terribly awkward that they begin to tense every time one of them breathe a little too hard, or sip their coffee a little too loud. Mark is sitting on the opposite of Haechan on the dining table, like how they usually do, but it feels like the earth is about to swallow him whole.

“Haechannie!” Mark begins, a little bit too loud that they both flinch at the sound of his voice. “About last night—I-I mean, this morning—when we—”

“Do you regret it?” Haechan’s voice, unlike Mark, is much steadier, almost too formal, even. But after spending months with him, Mark can tell that he’s about as nervous as he is.

“Reg—no, of course not!” Mark has his eyebrows furrowed together. “Do you?”

Haechan looks away, taking a sip of his coffee as he murmurs quietly. “No.”

And silence comes in again like an old friend and Mark despises it so much because it’s making him insane. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

Haechan sighs, scratching the back of his head and Mark finally notices that oh, he’s just embarrassed about it.

“I don’t really know how to face you,” he admits, blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears. “I didn’t think we’d end up that way.”

Mark opens his mouth but unsure of his words. “Then…” he whispers, uncertainly, with throat feels like blazing in flames. “Do you want to pretend it never happened?”

Haechan seems taken aback. Shocked, even, to hear Mark proposing something like that. Scowling a bit, he places his mug on the table with a loud thud and walks closer.

“Haechan—”

His kiss is more teeth than anything else and Mark freezes, not knowing what to do as Haechan climbs into his lap, twisting his hair around his fingers. It’s suffocating, the way Haechan kisses, but Mark likes it so much that he doesn’t mind if Haechan takes all his breath away with his.

After a good minute has passed, with a string of saliva connecting their parting lips, Haechan asks between heavy breaths, “Do you want to pretend this never happened?”

“Fuck no,” Mark replies in an instant and this time, he’s the one who takes Haechan’s breath out of his lungs.

They sleep on the same bed every night but only embrace each other during the day because Mark is getting exceptionally good at it and Haechan is having trouble keeping his moans to himself. They still share kisses in the dark but Mark always places his palm over Haechan’s face and pushes him away whenever it gets too much.

They haven’t moved out of the house even after the season has changed and Mark is getting an eerie feeling of being followed. “They’re triggered by movements and sound,” Haechan comforts him as he sits crossed-legs on the couch with a game controller in his hand, “So as long as we’re dead quiet during the night and stay out of sight, we’ll be fine.”

“You’re right,” Mark agrees, though his heart still feels heavy in his chest. “I don’t know, I just… I can’t help but worry, that’s all.”

“Yes, because that’s you. All you do is worry.”

“I have been doing something else in the last few days, actually,” Mark says, suddenly leaning forward from behind the couch and whispering close to his ear, “Or rather, someone.”

“Fuck you,” Haechan says but his lips are turning into a cheeky grin. “Keep doing that, and I’ll attack you again.”

And Mark teases again because they both know that’s what they want. It’s funny how the world is ending and yet Mark feels like he’s complete. As if everything just fell into places. And seeing Haechan writhe underneath him, as he thrusts in and out, is something he could never even dream to have in his previous life.

Haechan is quite possessive, Mark learns, by the way he nips at the juncture of his neck until purplish bruises bloom along his skin. Mark knows how much Haechan likes to sink his teeth on his shoulder when Mark hits that spot deep inside him, and he loves it when he can make Mark groan at the pain, muttering, “Fuck, that’s so hot—you’re so hot—” before he takes Mark’s bottom lip between his teeth again. It’s as if he wants to make it known to the world that he belongs to him, even when they’re the only two people in the world.

“Donghyuck,” Haechan suddenly says, out of the blue as they share French toasts for breakfast.

“It’s Mark, actually.”

“No,” Haechan laughs, almost spilling his coffee. “My name, you idiot. Lee Donghyuck is my real name.”

“What?!” Mark complains, feeling utterly betrayed. “After all this time, you’re just telling me now?”

“Well, I like the way you say Haechan,” he explains. “So I don’t mind if you call me that. I just thought you should know.”

But Mark is still kind of upset about it and he still does for the rest of the day, until Haechan sits on his lap that afternoon, attempting to wash the pout off his face with something exciting and Mark leaves no time to waste. He calls Haechan’s name—his real name—whenever their hips meet together and Haechan blushes and begs him to stop, telling him it’s weird, but Mark still continues because somehow he can feel Haechan tightening around him when he does and Mark likes to see him crumble into a moaning mess that he is now.

***

“You’re shit at cooking, Mark,” Haechan grumbles with his eyes still bleary from sleep. He stabs his fork not too gracefully to something that Mark called as a decent-looking sunny side up. “Look at this.” He glares at the burnt white egg. “I mean, seriously, what the heck is this?”

“It’s food. Now shut up and eat your breakfast.”

“Okay, Mom.” Haechan rolls his eyes, grimacing dramatically at the man who sits opposite him when the piece of food enters his mouth. “Yuuuuuummmm.”

“Shut up,” Mark shouts but he can’t stop himself from laughing. Haechan is so annoyingly hilarious and he whines about Mark’s cooking every single day but never even tries to offer any help or take charge of the cooking duty for him.   Mark never gets upset about it, though, because Haechan looks cute when he pouts and if it takes one plate of his bad cooking to see that adorable pout on his face then Mark will serve his decent-looking sunny side up every day.

They eventually stop conversing to be able to chew on their foods properly and Haechan has his eyes busy scanning the PlayBoy magazine he stole from the supermarket the other day. Mark has his gaze on his plate  as he plays with his egg’s yolk using his fork, but his mind is somewhere else.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I love you.”

Haechan’s fork flies out of his hand and ends with a clatter on the floor. Mark’s terrible fried egg is still half-chewed on his now half-opened mouth and it’s not an attractive sight in the slightest but Mark looks at him as if he’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“I—Y-you—” Haechan, the sharp tongue Haechan, never stutters in his twenty years of living and Mark is somehow proud of himself for being able to drive him to this point. “What the hell are you talking about—why—”

“Because I do.” Mark’s tone is so serious that it feels like he’s reading the news or reading the result of the latest presidential election. “I have been for quite some time. I just wasn’t sure you felt the same so I kind of keep quiet about it.”

And Haechan can only stare, and stare, and stare until he realizes that it’s better to just stay silent and do what his body tells him to do.

Mark is forced to stand on his feet before a pair of plump lips attack his own in a mind-numbing kiss. It’s a bit messy and Haechan tastes like the breakfast he just ate but Mark sighs against his mouth and lets him pull his shirt over his head.

Mark pushes his plate away from the table so Haechan can sit on the edge and tangle his legs around his waist and when it slips down to the floor, porcelain breaking into smaller pieces, he pays no mind because Haechan is now laying down on the dining table with his shirt going up to his chest. He pulls Mark down by the neck, and forcing him to grind his hips against him.

“You’re unbelievable,” Haechan gasps into his mouth, running his teeth along Mark’s lower lip. “Couldn’t you have picked a better moment to say that?”

“Sorry.” Mark’s lips part in a silent moan when Haechan slips a hand underneath his sweat pants and teases him over his underwear. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I woke up and it started driving me insane so I just had to say it.”

“Fuck, Mark, you’re so unfair.” Haechan takes a hold of Mark’s hand, leading him to where he wants to be touched and softly whines when Mark indulges him. “Tell me more,” he gasps, clawing against Mark’s skin as they rub their lengths together. “I want to, ah fuck, hear more, Mark, please.”

And Mark doesn’t hesitate one bit when he praises him, complimenting every little part, every little detail. I love you. I love your honey-like scent. I love your smile, and this mole you have on your neck. I love the way you say my name.

Haechan is powerless under Mark’s words, begging and writhing for Mark to pound into him until he sees stars and Mark is more than eager to comply. I love the way you moan. I love the way you arch your back. I love you, I love seeing you like this. You’re so pretty, Haechannie. So fucking beautiful.

And Haechan comes hard on his stomach with his teeth sinking at the crook of Mark’s neck, muffling his moan and he pushes Mark back to his chair, crawling between his legs and taking Mark deep into his mouth.

“Fuck.” He takes a handful of Haechan’s ash grey hair, slightly thrusting into his warm mouth and whimpers at how sexy Haechan looks on his knees, cheeks hollowing as he sucks him hard and fast. He has surprisingly long eyelashes, Mark admires, with small tears trapped between them from how hard Mark is hitting the back of his throat.

Mark’s about to come undone, low groans appearing at the back of his throat when Haechan suddenly stops and takes him out entirely, only giving kitten licks at the tip. Mark mewls with his eyebrows knitted together, begging Haechan to stop being a fucking tease and Haechan just grins against his skin because that’s simply what he is—a tease—and Mark is conflicted between loving and hating that trait of him at the same time.

Haechan eventually stops torturing him and sucks deep and slow the way he knows Mark would like it until Mark is spouting nonsense from his mouth, pushes himself forward abruptly and comes into his mouth. Haechan exhales heavily as he waits for Mark to finish, enjoying the low grunt he’s emitting before he swallows everything down. A little bit of his essence drips down his chin and Mark immediately apologizes with a stutter, pulling Haechan carefully into his lap and wipes his mouth with gentle strokes of his fingers. “You all right?”

Haechan looks up at him from under his bangs, his eyes half-lidded with lust as he takes two of Mark’s tainted fingers and places them between his lips, licking every bit of him with his tongue. Mark is looking at him with unblinking eyes and jaw hanging slack on his face.

Haechan leans close to embrace him, wrapping his arms around his neck and he sighs, kissing one of Mark’s shoulders. “I love you too,” he whispers and even though Mark can’t see, he dares to bet on his life that Haechan is now blushing mad at his own words. “But don’t get too cocky about it, you little shit.”

Mark chuckles because this is so Haechan. He pulls back so he can look at him in the eyes and Haechan is indeed blushing—even to the tip of his ears. “I won’t,” Mark says, letting his lips linger on his forehead. “I won’t, so stay with me, Haechannie. As long as we’re alive, don’t ever leave me.”

Haechan smiles. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

***

“Okay, ready?” Haechan asks, a knife sits firm on his hand. “On three. One, two, three!”

Mark kicks the front door open, inviting himself to a new house he’s not familiar with. They both run out of food so it’s about time to search around again. It’s the only house in the closest neighbourhood that they haven’t ransacked yet, and it’s because the windows are covered with cardboard, and the sunlight cannot penetrate in. And the number one rule of living in this world is that you have to be in places where the sunlight can reach.

It’s dark inside the house—so, so dark, in fact, that Mark has to place a flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other. “See anything weird?” He asks, as he observes as much as he could himself.

“Nope, they would come out by that ruckus we just made if they were here so I think we’re safe.” Haechan points his finger toward the kitchen. “Jackpot.”

“Stay close to me,” Mark reminds him and they both walk side by side with their weapons still aimed. There’s a window above the kitchen counter that Mark immediately tries to punch and kick through but to no avail. It won’t budge.

Turning to Haechan, who’s in charge of bringing weapons, “Do you have something to use to break that open? We need sunlight.”

“Okay, wait, I’ll—”

It’s faster for Mark’s eyes to process what is happening compared to his ears and what he sees is Haechan being tackled to the ground by a woman with cloudy white eyes and rotten flesh. And before Mark can even shout his name, he can feel his own body slammed against the wall, and a pair of large hands trying to rip his stomach open.

There are two of them and they’re both stronger than he could ever be.

Mark can hear Haechan shouting his name, but whether it’s because he’s trying to save him or screaming for help, he’s not sure and he doesn’t have time to think so. Mark lands a kick to the living corpse’s chest and it stumbles a little but enough for Mark to aim for his chest. He takes a shot, the sound of his gun thundering in the air, and pulls his trigger again to lands a bullet on its head. Mark quickly aims his gun at the female corpse next, missing his target by a few inches but enough to distract her enough so Haechan can slice her throat open with his knife.

“Haechan!” Mark immediately runs over to his place, pulling him up by the waist and drags both of their bodies  until they’re outside the house, where the sun is blazing over their heads. Both of them are lying down on the empty street, breathing hard and feeling adrenaline slowly rushes out of their veins.

“Fuck, we almost died,” Mark says, turning over to see the younger man who’s wincing from the pain. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Haechan hisses, “But I think my hand is—” The rest of his words hang in the air. “Mark.”

Mark follows his gaze and shudders at what he sees. There’s a bite mark just a few inches away from his wrist, and it’s deep enough to draw blood and nearly rips his skin apart. And if Haechan’s story was true, then—

“Stay away from me!” Haechan nearly trips over his own feet from how fast he tries to get away from him. He’s standing on his feet with his arms reaching out to keep their distance apart. “Don’t you dare get close to me, Mark.”

“What—” Mark jumps to his feet as well, stepping forward and Haechan points a knife to his face. “Haechan, calm down.” He raises both arms in the air, trying his best to stay sane for both of their sakes. “Let’s think this through.”

“No.” He furiously shakes his head. “You need to stay away from me—”

“Haechan, we’re immune—calm down—”

“Not if we’re bitten, Mark! Fuck, didn’t you hear what I said back then—”

“Yes, but we’re not sure whether you’re going to. Maybe it’s different for everyone—”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not taking any chances,” Haechan hastily insists. “Go back to the house, Mark.”

“No.”

“Just go back to the fucking house!”

“And where are you going then?!” He’s shouting back at him at this point, his voice sounds thick with desperation. “Huh?! Just where are you going to go?”

Haechan grits his teeth, desperately looking for an answer himself. “It’s none of your business—”

“No fucking way, I’m coming with you.”

“Why aren’t you listening to me—”

“Because you’re not making any sense, why would I listen to you?! Just get back here, Donghyuck, and we’ll think about it when we get home!”

It’s tempting, especially after he hears his real name coming from Mark’s mouth but it’s not right. Haechan knows it’s not right. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mark.”

“Nobody is going to get hurt, so please…” Mark lowers his voice, taking a careful step toward him. “Please, Donghyuck. Come back to me. I don’t want to be alone, not again.”

Haechan has tears forming in his eyes as he brings his head up to face the clouds, and he stands still when Mark wraps his arms gently around him, pulling him close. “I’m scared, Mark,” he whispers, emitting soft sobs from his mouth and Mark nods, saying the same thing and they both just stand there in each other’s arms with Mark running his fingers up and down his spine to soothe him down.

“Let’s go home,” Mark says, cupping Haechan’s cheeks  with his palms and forces him to meet his eyes. “Okay?”

Haechan nods, sobbing quietly. “Okay.”

***

Two days have passed and Mark doesn’t know what the fuck he’s going to do.

Haechan is dying, and he dies little by little with every second passing by. It’s so apparent and fast, the transformation process, that when Mark fell asleep on Haechan’s shoulder just for a few minutes, he woke up with a jolt, noticing how paler Haechan has gotten and how rotten the smell that came from his skin.

His golden skin is now blotchy, black veins appearing underneath it and he looks ghastly.

“Mark…”

Mark can no longer recognize his voice. It’s more like a croak, as if his vocal cords are thinning into a small string that’s about to snap. Every time Mark holds his hand, and winces at how freezing cold it is, Haechan tries to pull it away with the little strength he has left and whispers for him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you,” Mark always whispers back, and they both know it’s a promise. Haechan just wishes Mark would break it, because keeping it will only mean death for both of them.

The house that used to be so lively during the day and silent during the night, feels like a tombstone for every second that passes by. Mark hasn’t gone out of the house for a while, and he’s only eating one meal per day and drinks as little as he can to save every little food they have left. He forces Haechan to eat as much as he can, though, but the latter usually denies, telling him that he’s about to vomit when he has food on his tongue.

Mark carries him to his bed every night like usual but he no longer wraps his arms around him, otherwise he’d be shivering to death. Haechan’s skin is ice cold, and although he’s breathing very, very slowly, the puffs of air that flows out from his mouth do not feel warm in the slightest.

“Mark…” Haechan whispers into the night and Mark can’t contain the sadness that blooms in his heart when he hears how broken his voice is. “There are so many things… I wish I could say to you…”

“Mean things, I suppose?” Mark tries to keep it normal but the air still feels tense. “Donghyuck?”

Haechan’s chocolate brown eyes are gradually turning into silver and in the darkness of the room, they almost glow. “Thank you… for staying with me…” he murmurs and Mark can tell that Haechan is on the verge of crying, but he doesn’t. He’s no longer able to.

“It’s an honor, Haechannie.”

***

Mark hasn’t slept properly for three days and it’s taking its toll on him. He’s either staring at the ceiling, trying his best to count Haechan’s breathing and making sure that it doesn’t stop or waking up every few minutes with cold sweat, thinking that Haechan is leaving him for good.

So at one point, his body can no longer take it and he falls asleep with his head on Haechan’s shoulder. They’re sitting on the floor with their backs pressed against the wall, facing the front door. Mark has his handgun ready on his side, along with some of Haechan’s knife, but they haven’t been touched for a while. And Mark is not planning to touch it in the near future.

He wakes up with a heart attack when the front door is opened with a bang, and with bleary eyes, Mark sees several figures entering the house at once. He reaches for his handgun by instinct and aims it toward the crowd, but—

“Wait!” A man’s voice booms through the air. “Don’t shoot!”

It finally sinks in that it’s daylight and Mark is seeing people—actual breathing people who look just as weary as he is though not sleep-deprived—coming into his house. They have weapons in their hands, from crossbows to shotguns, but a man, who looks like he’s in charge, steps forward with both arms raised and sends him a reassuring smile.

“Calm down,” he says, “I’m human, just like you.”

Mark, who stands in front of Haechan by instinct to protect him, can’t believe what he’s seeing and he’s calculating whether it’s really just a dream but another man, a taller one with sharp jaws, points his gun at Haechan and Mark snaps back to reality.

“Taeyong-hyung,” the man says, “That one is turning. We should kill him.”

“NO!” Mark has his gun raised again, ready to pull the trigger. “Put your gun down or I’ll shoot, I swear to God, if you touch him—”

“Jeno,” the leader—the one who’s called Taeyong—waves a hand, suggesting him to drop his weapon down. “It’s okay. Let’s talk about this first.”

Mark drifts his eyes from one man to another, carefully reading their faces. “Who are you?”

“A survivor,” Taeyong smiles and it seems genuine but Mark doesn’t trust him in the slightest. “Like you.”

His heart is beating like crazy and he’s so amazed that there are, in fact, others like him who appear to be in much better condition too. “How many are you there?”

“Hundreds. We’re looking for more people to join our colony. We believe there are more survivors out there, and we can fight back if we grow in numbers.”

“Fight how? There’s no cure.”

“We’re immune as long as we’re not bitten.” Taeyong spares a glance at Haechan and Mark almost growls at him. “We’re harvesting our own foods, as well. You should come with us.”

“Can he come?” Mark nudges his head toward Haechan.

Taeyong has the audacity to look sympathetic, unlike his friend Jeno, who is still glowering at Haechan as if he’s a prey to be eaten when it’s supposed to be the other way around. “I wish I could say yes,” Taeyong says, “But I don’t think he can.”

“Then I’m staying.”

Taeyong sighs, but he keeps a gentle smile plastered on his face. “Can I, at least, know your name?”

Mark hesitates and he knows he’s being too cautious about everything, probably because Haechan is being targeted. Under different circumstances, he would’ve taken Taeyong’s hand in a heartbeat. “It’s Mark.”

“It’s nice to see you alive, Mark,” Taeyong says, offering his hand and Mark deliberately takes it for a handshake. “Is that your friend over there?”

Mark turns around, glancing at the man and he sees Haechan staring at him with soft eyes, his breathing slow and maybe he tries to smile but all he does is breaking Mark’s heart. “He’s—” Mark’s breath gets hitched on his throat. “He’s my family.”

Haechan closes his eyes, lips turning slightly upward.

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong places a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I really wish I could help, but there’s nothing we can do. There’s nothing you can do. It’s already too late.”

Mark knows that, he’s been telling himself that, but having it told directly to his face still hurts like it’s the first time he’s hearing it. “I know that.”

“I think he wants you to come with us too.” Taeyong walks closer to Haechan but still maintaining safe distance so Mark won’t aim his gun toward him again. He kneels in front of him, gently asking, “Isn’t that right?”

Haechan’s eyes are moving slow, searching Taeyong’s face and maybe his vision has already become blurry from the way his lenses are turning silver, but his gaze is firm when he nods.

“Please,” Haechan says, softly, quietly, and heartbreakingly, “Take him with you…”

Mark can hear his own heart shattering. “Haechan—”

“You sure?” Taeyong confirms and Haechan gives the slightest nod of his head. Mark’s not sure whether it’s because he’s too weak to move or he just doesn’t want Mark to go. Mark wishes for the latter, but Taeyong is waving one hand and the next thing he knows, he is being dragged across the room.

“No! Wait—don’t touch me—” Mark struggles, kicking all over the place as he is being held down by two guys who are way more muscular than he is. “Don’t you fucking touch me—”

“Mark.”

Mark freezes, his stomach flips at the sound of Haechan’s voice. It’s louder this time—loud enough for everyone to hear and for Mark to have his heart crushed to  pieces. “Just go.”

“It’s better to live than to die, Mark, even in a world like this.” Taeyong says, wrapping a hand around Mark’s wrist and this time, Mark follows. It’s as if all the strength of his body is leaving him and he’s not able to stand on his own feet if Taeyong doesn’t pull him up.

And as he walks away, Mark keeps his eyes on Haechan, still asking him why are you doing this? But Haechan only smiles and mouths something that makes his eyes widen. He’s saying the words—the promise—they usually share with one another, but this time, Haechan doesn’t have the power to make it come true. But he still says them, because that’s his final wishes before everything turns dark.

See you soon, Mark.

***

Mark’s first day in the colony feels like the world is ending, which is saying something because the world is ending but he just really feels like it is the second Haechan is out of his grasp.

Taeyong has offered him more variety of food than he has seen for the past two months and he still stares at his plate like it’s empty and he doesn’t know what to do with it. The place is safe, guarded with tall gates and watchmen, and there’s a campfire near the tent he’s staying. Mark knows how Haechan would’ve loved that. He would probably be dancing around it, telling Mark to play another Michael Jackson song with his guitar—Billy Jean, maybe—as he busts a move. And Mark would most likely have a hard time pressing the chords because when Mark dances more with his hands, Haechan dances more with his hips and he’s so naturally good at it that it makes Mark suffer from his longing to touch him. To wrap his arms around his waist, to mold his lips against his full ones, to peel every piece of clothing off his body so he can rake his fingers along the smoothness of his spine.

There are so many survivors around him, and people like Jungwoo and Lucas do smile brighter than the sun but Mark just wants to lurk in the dark. He already has his sun once, and that sun is dying.

“Mark,” Taeyong calls, sitting next to him in front of the campfire that dances in Mark’s eyes. “How are you holding up?”

Mark doesn’t answer, and it’s probably unfair because Taeyong has been nothing but good to him but he no longer cares.

“Look,” Taeyong exhales, placing a hand on Mark’s back. “I know how you feel but—”

“Don’t fucking tell me that,” Mark snaps, slapping his hand away. “Don’t tell me you know how I feel. You don’t.”

And Taeyong gives him a minute to catch his breath because it’s true. He’s breathless. He’s been feeling like he’s suffocating from the first time he took a step out of his house and into Taeyong’s van. But no matter how many hours have passed, he still couldn’t breathe.

“We need every survivor we can get,” Taeyong softly explains. “We can survive longer if we cooperate. Protect each other. And I really think it’s the best choice for both of us, but if you feel like this is not for you, then I won’t hold you back. That’s your decision to make.”

Mark looks up at the sky, which is painted in orange as the sun’s about to set. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Sorry for being such an asshole and taking all of this out on you.”

“Most people act the same when they first got here, so I kind of get used to it by now.” Taeyong chuckles. “We all have our stories, Mark, but whether we end it and start over with another page or dwell with the ending too long is our choice. And as you can see here, we’ve all made our choices. We chose to flip a new page.”

Mark takes a look at his surroundings, really observing every detail and he knows that the happiness around him is real. These people appreciate life more than they did and they find comfort in each other. Even if the world is ending, it feels just like another day of a new world for them. Another day to start over. Another day to appreciate joy if you give it a chance and look close enough.

“Have you lost someone close to you?” Mark asks, almost in a whisper and Taeyong spares him a glance.

“More than I can count,” he answers and if Mark listens very closely, he would notice the shiver in his voice. “I had someone before. Someone that I really loved. Almost like what you two had.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Taeyong exhales into the evening sky. “Like everybody else, I suppose. He died.”

“From what?”

“From a bullet to the head.” Taeyong breathes heavily. “My bullet.”

The silence hangs in the air and it just dawns on him that of course Taeyong has lost someone to the virus. Of course he knows how Mark feels. He’s been through a lot more than Mark ever did.

Taeyong told him that his name was Jaehyun but he always told them to call him Jay because it felt cooler that way. Mark witnesses how a longing smile appears on Taeyong’s face every time his mouth forms Jaehyun’s name but it doesn’t stay long. “He was bitten when he tried to save me,” Taeyong mentions, fiddling with his own fingers. “I thought he would heal, but—”

“He didn’t.”

Taeyong glances at him, at how Mark is fighting back the tears that form in his eyes and he exhales, puffs of air flowing from his thin lips. “He didn’t,” Taeyong finishes.

“I’m sorry,” is all Mark has to say after a while and that’s enough, it seems, by the gentle smile on Taeyong’s face. The older man lands a hand on Mark’s dark locks, patting his head like a father to his son, before he stands up and stretches his arms above his head.

“Talking from experience,” Taeyong says, walking away. “He still has at least a day.”

Mark knows he’s talking about Haechan, just like how he’s been thinking about him himself even during Taeyong’s story, and he notices something slips out of the pocket of his jeans. “Taeyong-hyung, you dropped something.”

“No, I didn’t.” He throws a mischievous smile over the shoulder. “Good night, Mark.”

It’s a key. Taeyong’s car key, Mark remembers, as it had jiggled around his hand when he took him in before. And Mark knows that it’s all up to him now, whether he stays or he leaves. Whether he chooses to stay with the living or vanish with the dead. Whether he chooses a few splitting moments with Haechan, or live properly for years with Taeyong.

And the answer is clear.

It’s only been a day. A whole fucking day. But Mark steals Taeyong’s car as expected and rides out the first thing in the morning as if his life depends on it. And maybe it does, because Haechan is his life and he’s losing his light like a dying star.

And if Haechan turns into a black hole, Mark doesn’t mind being sucked out of his life to join him in an eternity of darkness. There’s no light without his sun anyway.

It takes four hours for Mark to drive back to the house he’s grown to love, and he’s already driving as fast as Haechan usually was. The sun shines rather warm on his skin, but he still shivers from the autumn breeze. His heart is thumping so loud in his own ears that everything else feels like a whisper.

“Haechan-ah!” Mark shouts the second he barges into the house—the place they both call home. Please still be here. Please be alive. And he runs from one corner to another, looking for the man who owns his heart, and he can feel his feet crumbling under his own weight when he notices the sight of him.

Haechan is standing in front of the stairs that lead to the basement, and there’s a little part of Mark that wonders perhaps he had been staying there to avoid the sun but he ignores it. He doesn’t care. Mark doesn’t give a fuck if his transformation is nearly complete because when Haechan looks at him, his mouth shaping his name, Mark is already running towards him before his entire mind can process.

Haechan lays still in Mark’s arms as he embraces him with all his strength. “I’m so glad you’re still here,” Mark says, slipping his fingers around Haechan’s ash grey strands that are browner than the first time he met him.

Haechan can hear Mark whispering his name over and over and he notices he’s crying, clutching to him as if he’s the rope that’s saving his life. “Mark…” Haechan buries his face in the crook of Mark’s neck which feels both familiar and distinct at the same time because Mark can no longer smell that honey-like scent Haechan usually has, he can no longer feel his warmth seeping through his clothes, he can no longer hear the playful whiny complains he usually makes.

But he’s still Haechan and that’s what matters.

“Why… did you come back…?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Mark answers, shaking his head frantically. “I couldn’t, Haechannie, I can’t leave you. I don’t care if all we have left is just minutes or even seconds, I just want to be with you.”

Haechan grabs the back of Mark’s shirt, making a sound between a sob and a choke and he probably wants to cry, but he can’t. His skin is rotting, his bodily function has stopped working, and he knows he looks unbearably disgusting but the way Mark holds on to him still makes him feel wanted. Makes him feel loved.

“Mark,” Haechan croaks, pulling away and Mark nearly breaks into tears again when he notices how much paler Haechan gets, even if they’re only separated for a day. The black veins are more prominent, painting his face and his skin like a horrifying tattoo and the lens of his eyes are completely white now,. “Mark, you have to kill me.”

“What—no—”

Haechan pushes the machete he’s been holding in one hand to Mark’s chest. “I’ve tried but I’m…” His cloudy eyes seem to scream in agony. “I’m too afraid… Please, Mark…”

“No, there’s no way—”

“Mark!” Haechan’s paper-thin voice suddenly booms through the air, sending shivers down Mark’s spine. “I can feel it. I’m losing myself and…” There’s this glow in his eyes that forces Mark to take a step back, his heart slamming against his ribcage. “I’m so hungry.”

And it’s not human food he craves, Mark knows that for sure.

It’s frightening, the way Haechan slightly bares his teeth at him, and every inch of his body screams for him to run but Mark plays deaf. “I’ll wait until it’s really over,” Mark promises him. “I’ll wait until you’re really gone. I’ll kill you when there’s no trace of you left.”

But Mark’s not sure whether he can keep his promise even at that point.

Haechan eventually agrees with a tired nod because they both know Mark is much more stubborn than he looks, and he begs him to tie him up so he wouldn’t be able to attack the second he loses control and Mark follows. Haechan sits on the floor with his back pressed against a huge pillar that supports the house and waits as Mark circles a rope around his waist a few times before he ends it with a knot.

“Is it too tight?” Mark asks, worriedly, and it’s so Mark to ask a half-transformed zombie that question so Haechan smiles weakly at him and answers, “Not tight enough, you idiot.”

Mark falls weak at the sight of Haechan’s smile that he loves so much and he leans in to kiss him but Haechan immediately brings his face away.

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, though he’s about to be consumed by the same desire, “You’ll get infected.”

But Mark cups both of his cheeks firmly with his hands, whispering, “I don’t care,” directly against his mouth, not caring about his icy cold skin, or the awful smell of his rotting flesh because underneath all of that, he’s still Haechan and he loves him. So painfully and earnestly so.

“I love you,” Mark whispers between kisses, “I love you. I’ve always been in love with you. Haechannie…”

And Haechan closes his eyes, he can no longer breathe in Mark’s scent like he used to a few days ago and it’s depressing, because Mark always smells like summer and Haechan loves summer. But within a few hours from now, there will only be the darkness that welcomes him like an old friend. And if he’s lucky, if Mark really has the heart to kill him, then he’ll be swallowed by that darkness and it’s okay, as long as he doesn’t bring Mark with him.

Because Mark deserves the light, even if that means taking his own.

And so they wait. They wait with their bodies seated side-by-side, with their fingers intertwined, with Haechan’s head falling on Mark’s shoulder. “Tell me more,” Haechan begs, his eyes heavy and the pain in the pit of his stomach—this craving of blood and human flesh—is maddening, growing and consuming him from the inside. “Tell me why you love me…”

And Mark does it with no hesitation because what he feels never changes. He still loves Haechan’s hair, loves his eyes, loves his voice, loves his touch, no matter how different they are now.

“And I love how you always say I’m a bad cook,” Mark chuckles softly, “but you always eat like it’s your last meal.”

“Because it… could’ve been…,” Haechan’s voice is weak and sore but there’s a tint of humor in his tone. “Your cooking was so bad… it could’ve killed me…”

And Mark laughs, airily and young, the way he always does and Haechan wants to cry because he most likely won’t be able to hear it soon.

“I love how we fight from time to time, with you pouting every time I win an argument,” Mark continues as he gently smiles to himself, “I love how brave you are, how you tend to not overthink stuff and just go with the moment. I wish I could live like you.”

Mark’s voice begins to break the more he speaks, hot tears forming in his eyes. “And I really,” he breathes out between soft sobs, “I really love hearing you sing. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard and I wish I could…” His entire shoulders begin to shake. “I wish I could hear you sing again, Haechannie…”

Haechan’s breathing becomes slower as his vision starts to fade away. Mark sounds like he’s talking from a distance, as if he’s murmuring underwater. And Haechan feels like he’s falling into a bottomless pit, a monster waiting underneath and suddenly he’s just…

Gone.

“Hae… chan…?”

Mark’s eyes grow wide as he feels Haechan’s teeth sinking into the skin of his neck, gnawing against his flesh before he peels it away with his fangs. Mark’s entire body jolts in pain, sending electricity down to his fingertips. He crawls away from Haechan by instinct, his blood splattering down his shirt and to the wooden floor below him.

Haechan’s eyes are entirely clouded in white, saliva  mixed with Mark’s blood dripping from his mouth and he snarls, baring his teeth like a hungry wolf.

Mark tries to call his name but it’s no use. Haechan is something else. Something entirely different. And although the transformation process progresses little by little, once it’s complete, it still takes the air out of Mark’s lungs.

Haechan is struggling to break himself free, his fingers clawing the air, reaching for Mark with such desperation of a starving lion. Mark’s gun feels heavy on the back of his jeans, he knows what to do. He just doesn’t have the will to do it.

“Haechannie—it’s me—please, it’s Mark—”

Haechan roars, dark blood splattering from his mouth as he claws and claws with his legs kicking all over the place. The rope around his waist is the only thing holding him still, keeping them in a safe distance but Mark knows it won’t hold long.

Haechan is frighteningly strong.

Mark’s blood is gushing out of his wound, painting his  arm red and warm and it’s starting to make him feel lightheaded. At this point, he realizes he’s going to die by Haechan’s hands or going to turn into the exact creature snarling in front of him now.

Mark hooks his finger around the trigger, aiming the gun at Haechan’s head and he feels like he’s on the verge of vomiting his entire organs.

How can I shoot him—

But he tries. He tries because he has promised the man he loved he would do it. He tries because the world does not deserve seeing Haechan like this. He does not want anyone to look at him and think about him simply as a mindless, flesh-eating zombie when Haechan was so, so much more than that. Haechan was sweet, he was kind though he did have his own mischievousness from time to time and he shone so bright, almost blinding every time Mark looked at him.

So he takes aim and he misses because his hand trembles at the last second. The bullet that sinks to the pillar behind him only makes the creature growls at him louder, and the rope begins to tear apart.

Mark still can’t shake the memory of Haechan’s face when he told him he loved him too, or simply the memory of him—of how he used to. But the monster that he is now is not him. Mark just has to convince himself that.

He’s running out of time.

He takes a closer step, close enough that he won’t be able to miss, and he takes in a deep breath, aiming at Haechan’s temple. He steadies his hand as best as he can before he closes his eyes, feeling hot tears running down his cheek and he whispers, “See you soon, Haechannie.” And he pulls the trigger.

The room quiets down in an instant where Mark can only hear his own frantic breathing, but he doesn’t stay still for long. Not looking at Haechan’s body, he quickly loads his gun with another bullet—his last one—and presses the tip against the side of his head. It feels hot, almost scalding his skin but he doesn’t let himself think. He doesn’t let himself breathe. He doesn’t let himself feel.

And with the click of his gun, he finally smiles.

We’re together now, Haechannie.

***

[marksloan]

woah, can you tell us what happened with your dad and aunt? and how buzzfeed wanted to help? i am so curious

oh lord this is a story and a half. i can't believe i've actually never spoken about this before??

if you want a story about a messy family, buzzfeed unsolved being like aight yeah this is sus we want to help out, and my dwindling sanity, this is all going to be under the cut~

also side note, i have receipts of most things because we were terrified that my dad was going to gaslight about everything which, eventually, he did. we also knew that a lot of things were going to be deleted off of the internet for reasons we didn't know, so this is why i have a lot of shit just lying around omg. i literally sat here and watched every piece of evidence get deleted as i refreshed the page so this is the best i can do

TD;LR: we found out that my dad had a secret twin sister and he did everything he could to hide her from us alongside her mysterious death.

a few years ago, i started doing ancestry so i could find my family history and one thing lead to another and i found out that my aunt on my dad's side had also made a tree. while going through the birth records for births in the same area/time frame as my dad's birth, i found that there was a second kid listed under a mother with the same last name AND maiden name (because they list both the father and the mother's last name) alongside the same area code. this was super weird because neither name is super common and it was just a little too weird.

(name blocked out because ohhh boy this is supposed to be a sensitive family issue LMAO)

(here's some receipts of me messaging a friend on facebook because this whole situation is insane and i feel like i need to back myself up bc not even i'd believe myself omg)

flash forward to me going onto my aunt's family tree and finding out that she'd listed this random woman as my dad's twin sister. beyond sketch. we have never heard of this random woman and, when i mentioned it to my mother a few weeks later, she had no idea about it either, although, after a few days, she did recall a conversation she'd had with my uncle (my dad's older sister's husband) when my parents had just started dating. she said that he'd made a comment about my dad and just jokingly said 'oh, it's like a twin thing' and, very confused, my mum had played along. she hadn't thought much about it until i was sat there showing her screenshots of some random woman on my aunt's family tree. basically, she was fairly sure that it was right just from the genuine vibe of that side of the family, they're ex-military and very secretive and we've always got the feeling that something was a bit off.

she told me not to mention it to my dad and like a dumbass i did. i told him about the random woman on this family tree and he was PISSED. he told me that it was wrong and that 'it was easy to get lost and find the wrong people', despite being an account that was actively linked to his older sister's facebook account, and i decided to drop it. my dad can make your life hell when he wants to and i just left it alone.

but then my sister got involved oml. she picked right where i left off during quarantine in the summer and immediately dove right into this twin sister mystery. she discovered that this woman had died in the 90's, right before my parents got together, right in the vicinity that my dad's family moved (which, if you remember, they're military so they basically moved around the uk a lot. for someone who was originally was born in the north of the uk to randomly turn up and die in the most specific, random southern town was more than a coincidence.) however, my sisters ability to investigate extended a lot more than I did; she actually messaged my aunt over facebook and asked about this mystery woman that.

it didn't go well.

at the same time, she started tweeting about it on twitter and jokingly started saying 'oh maybe buzzfeed unsolved would be interested?'. this all happened around a week after aria uploaded his first(?) video investigating his father's best friend disappearing. i'm not sure what drove my sister to message aria but she eventually sent him a message on instagram and he (somehow???) responded and was very interested in helping us with our little family mystery.

this is what he sent my sister in response to her DMS.:

basically, this woman was impossible to trace. she only had a birth certificate and a death certificate, which in itself is very weird because in the uk you can at least follow people around the country with the regular census.

when my sister messaged my aunt we noticed that my dad was getting a lot of text messages constantly while he was out in the garden. we were deadass sat there listening to his phone just ping over and over. so my sister (like a stan twitter psychopath) decided to reset her twitter password, of which was linked to my dads phone and ended up actually going through his text messages.

i can't find the sc (my sister got a new insta account and it's what she sent me all the scs through) but if i remember rightly she sent him a message that was like: they're asking about [insert nickname for the twin sister] what should i say? and my dad I SHIT YOU NOT answered with i'll handle it. like I'm sorry sir is this an action movie? ur a taxi driver not james bond sit the fuck down.

(EDIT I FOUND IT IN A FACEBOOK CONVO)

f(he also, notably, lied to us and said that his sister had all of the family photos ~~~ imagine the way my ass fell out of my stomach when i read these text messages.)

we mentioned aria to my mum and explained how he might be able to help but she was very against it. instead, she took me and my sister out for dinner when quarantine eased (cmon eat to help out) and sent my dad a thick ass paragraph. i can't remember what it said for sure but there was something like 'do you want to be remembered as a liar by your kids because they're either going to find out the truth now or after your dead? its your choice xoxo'. god I'm so excited for the therapy I'm going to need in twenty years about my trust issues.

basically he admitted that it was true, but only over text message. he didn't give us any information, nor will he admit it in person or even speak about it. we know nothing other than the fact that this woman caused a lot of family drama and probably trauma and that they refuse to talk about her due to something she did to my grandmother (who as you can tell from the ancestry sc above, is long deceased.) basically this whole thing was a shit show and eventually aria agreed that there were too many messy factors, mental health and privacy etc.

there's a lot more involved surprisingly that i had to condense into this post but hopefully that explains it a bit. like i said, i'm beyond excited for this to cripple my ability to trust my family and men in particular and i'm just so excited for the therapy I'm going to need!

[willowrosenboob]

I have thoughts about Willow's sexual identity within the show and I would like to make it your problem. I don't understand why they didn't make her bisexual when it was canon that she was in love with Xander her whole childhood and then Oz. Like making her bisexual dating a lesbian would have been 100% fine so I'm always bothered by jokes in the show where Willow makes lights of her previous feelings for Xander or even Oz when the narrative had dedicated so much time to make them real. Idk idk.

sorry for taking so long, i just have a lot of opinions about this and i needed time to collect my thoughts.

so i have a big problem with this, both from a lesbian perspective, as well as from a general character perspective. people who say these things clearly don’t understand the experiences of lesbians in society, so i’m gonna try to explain why willow as a lesbian absolutely makes sense, as well as why it isn’t bi erasure, and what exactly is. trying to force a lesbian character to be bisexual is very harmful to how people view real life lesbians so i hope you reconsider your opinion.

let’s take a look at willow’s crush on xander. it’s made very clear by the show that growing up willow did not have a lot of friends, and she was very insecure of her social status. xander is one of the few people who gave her attention and didn’t treat her horribly. compulsory heterosexuality is a thing that all lesbians grow up experiencing, and it’s amplified if you already feel insecure about your place in the world. when i was young i crushed on one of my guy friends for the simple reason that he was funny, and later i was embarrassed about it because of how clearly i had never actually liked him. the fact that willow liked a man who was already a close friend of hers doesn’t mean that she likes men, and every lesbian will attest to that. she interprets her platonic feelings of admiration and validation as romantic because she doesn’t know anything else. she doesn’t know that loving women is possible so she tries to force herself into loving a man.

now let’s look at oz. i love oz, and i believe his kindness is what drew willow to him. he didn’t express toxic masculinity the way that xander did, and he never forced her into anything. not only that, but dating a guy in a band helped her break out of viewing herself as a socially undesirable nerd, and think of herself as worthy of love and respect. part of why their breakup was so hard on willow was because she lost someone who helped reaffirm her identity and worth.

the fact that a sapphic woman had a relationship with a man as a teenager doesn’t mean that they have to be bi. no relationship in your teens should define who you are. there are tons of lesbians out there who have had relationships with men, sometimes even ended up getting married and starting a family with a man, only to find out later on that their attraction wasn’t real. willow clearly loved both oz and xander, but that doesn’t mean that she was ever truly attracted to them, which is ultimately what sexual orientation is about.

i’d say willow never truly got over her insecurities, and this property is still prevalent in her relationships with women as well (but that’s a discussion for another day). the main difference is that she no longer forces herself to love men because she knows that loving women is okay, and, like me, once she accepted her attraction for women she stopped desiring men altogether.  saying that you hate how she makes light of her sexuality and her past relationships with men is rooted in ignorance and lesbophobia. she makes jokes about it because it is a natural thing to do. everyone laughs about the stupid things they did and felt when they were young.

that doesn’t mean that the writers weren’t motivated by bi erasure. it’s true that bisexuality wasn’t as mainstream in the 90s as it is today, so i doubt they even considered it for willow, but even if they kept bisexual people in mind they still could have made her a lesbian. let’s look at some real examples of bi erasure in the buffyverse:

buffy summers - in s3 she shows lots of chemistry towards faith, and their relationship is romantically coded (mainly in faith’s similarities to s2 angel’s arc). then later in the comics she literally sleeps with a woman and calls it the best night of her life, but the writers insist on other characters calling it an ‘experiment’ and not letting her delve into her feelings for women.

xander harris - it’s debated whether or not he’s gay or bi, but he constantly jokes about finding men attractive (”can i have sex with riley too?” “two guys rassling, but not in a gay way” “you didn’t tell me he was attractive”). this is because the writers intended for him to be gay instead of willow, but it still left its mark on the show, even after willow came out (”spike is strong and mysterious and sort of compact but well muscled”).

the entire whirlwind - they have canonically all had sex with each other, yet they are never called bisexual, and they are never shown experiencing attraction to the same sex in a way that isn’t explicity shown as evil.

there are a ton more examples, and times when 'straight’ characters make gay jokes, but that would’ve made this post way longer than it already is.

tldr; willow is a lesbian, her relationships to oz and xander is deeper that plain ole romance, and bi erasure is a huge problem in the buffyverse but willow is not an example of that. i hope this made sense, and if you need any clarification on anything feel free to ask.