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#idk I called off summer school this week and like my bad bc I did in fact sign up to do it 💀 but dear god I would die if I lost it
guinevereslancelot ¡ 15 days
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i'm so bummed i accidentally turned town a job interview for a job where I could have worked with a good friend and mentor 😔
#i was telling her abt the preschool i got hired at and i was like yeah im worried bc the other teacher doesn't seem nice#and the student teacher ratio is really bad they're really understaffed and underfunded im just really worried it will be too much for me#and she was like oh you should apply to the school i work at bc we're hiring snd the ratio is great and the pay might be better also#and i never knew the name of the school she worked at until then#and its one i DID apply to but i told them nevermind after this one hired me 😬#but now i really wish i'd taken that interview#i'm going to call or email first thing on monday tho and hopefullyyy i can get in for an interview before i start my new job on thursday#so i wont literally have to take time off for it#and then if they offer me i will be able to tell the new job nevermind while its still early#either that or i'll try to stick it out a few months then apply to the other one for summer or something#but im not sure whether its best to quit immediately or let them think im dependable and staying then leave in three months lol#but mostly for the other job idk if it would ruin the opportunity to tell them nevermind i want the job a week after i said no#compared to a few months later#they might have forgotten me by then which would probably be good#idkkk#my first reference literally works there which will hopefully help and maybe they'll give me a break#the pay scale looks the same as the one i just accepted but i think they'll offer less bc they're not as desperate#but i literally dont care its such a better working environment#and the pay scale is the same so they would give me a raise after a few months#and the work will be so much easier#and the commute#and i Definitely know i can work with my friend#vs the co teacher at this new job who seems really intense and unfriendly#anyway!!#im really anxious abt this new job and i'll stay if the other place wont take me now#but i really hope they give me another chance#also its super close and easy drive and the commute for the other one scares me a bit lol#this has been a shitpost
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cloneboywonder ¡ 10 months
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I almost accidentally texted my boss that “it’s so hard being a teenage girl in her 20s” :-(
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what-if-nct ¡ 1 year
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hiiii is it ok if i ask for some advice? im sorry im gonna sound rambly but uhhh i'm 14 and starting high school next year (which i alrdy dont feel too good abt haha) and my (overbearing asian) parents are going to send me to this private lutheran hs instead of the public one i was supposed to go to bc its more upper class and smart (?). tbh i was genuinely surprised that i liked the school, academic-wise, and i rlly liked that i had the space in my schedule to take more fine arts classes (i dont have any in my hs) but like the first thing the principal said to me was that i "needed to learn to be a good christian". a whole hour each week is dedicated to jesus and i just know my atheist ass is going to be uncomfortable asf. first, one of my best friends has a thing for jesus (he says jesus is too hot to be straight 😭) and i cant tell if hes joking anymore, and second, i dont have a problem with people who are religious, but i do when they are flat out hateful and harrassing people from communities they "dont agree with", and i just know the people preaching at this school are the latter.
also rn i am the *only* poc in my entire school, and i noticed there were a lot more asian students and students of color, so hopefully there'll be less kids pulling at their eyes or calling me slurs :D
anyways i not a fan of the fact that "homosexual behavior on or off campus" warranted for expulsion, since i am a *very* queer and bisexual individual. at my current school, i dont really need to hide my gayness bc no one cares, and my teachers are accepting (my homeroom teachers a lesbian lol <33). i dont think i can handle having to hide such a big part of my identity at home *and* at school :( too add to that i really suck at making friends, so being somewhere without people i'm comfortable with, my anxiety gets really bad, and i just shut down completely.
my hs is p rundown (like most public highschools are) and the classes are average at best, so idk man, im torn :( i dont know if i should suck it up and go to lutheran school bc their good academics, or ✨be myself✨ and go to p shitty school :/
i dont know what to do (or if i can even do anything) abt it i just dont feel too good about this :( you've mentioned you went to a christian school, so do you have any advice? even if you dont, thank you so so much for listening to me rant for a moment there <33 i really treasure you and your blog, atp you feel like the big sister i've never had. i love youuuu <333
That is such a sticky situation. Cause maybe you can try to persuade your parents especially since they'll be paying for the private school on top of college tuition in the future, it can be a huge selling point. I know that's how I won in the decision of beauty school over college it's cheaper. And christian and catholic schools are heavily based in religion like it's a huge part of it so if you don't believe in it it can be absolutely mind numbing. I actually didn't go to Christian school, actually wasn't forced to go to church as a child, I was like 11 and for some reason told grandma Christianity is responsible for all the bad things that happened in the world. Which is wild that I even was able to come to that conclusion as a child she just brushed me off. But I did go to church summer camp to be with my friends which my friend and I got scolded for holding hands but she was just leading me through the crowd of people. So that's still unfortunately a huge part of christian beliefs
the thing that really caught me off guard is the homosexual activity off campus can lead to expulsion. On campus like sucks but is expected of a christian school sadly. But off campus in your day to day life is like your actions off campus shouldn't be judged by the school. Like I can't wrap my mind around that. I think since you have a whole summer maybe look for more schools you can attend I remember doing this in middle school because my home high school was an F school so you could choose any high school within a certain range. You'd be really surprised with how many schools are around you I'm assuming you're in the us but I'm sure everywhere has a ton of schools. And look for a school that holds some of what your parents want and also your own values and needs for your education. And maybe your parents seeing you take initiative might be an extra point.
If your parents are deadset on it. I think try to make the best out of it as much as you can usually there's a group of people in the same boat you're in where their parents forced them to be there. Trust me no matter where you go you will always be drawn to those like you every single time. But if you do get the choice of going to the original public school firstly screw every single racist little bitch who does that to you that is horrid I am so sorry you have to endure that. People suck. But you can also learn extra independently I always did that cause I was a bit ahead of my class. But I really think researching more schools in your area would help you find the perfect school for you. I personally was in love with Waldorf schools they're more creative led schools and freer, I wanted to go to one so badly. So figure out the exact kind of education you want like a magnet school, charter school it doesn't hurt to see how receptive your parents will be to it.
I really hope this helped at all and I hope it works out well for you. And Awwww it's so sweet you see me as a big sister, I gladly be your big sister, love you too🌸🌸🌸
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1kook ¡ 4 years
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kissanime & foreplay
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this is part of my netflix & chill collection !
summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k
notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 
HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜
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The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.
The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.
And of course, Doyeon.
Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.
Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.
The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.
So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.
Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.
However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.
He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?
Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.
Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.
It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.
Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.
You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.
Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.
After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.
He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.
“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.
You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.
You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?
With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”
You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”
He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.
You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.
Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.
Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.
“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.
You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.
“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”
By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.
Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.
You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.
You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.
“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”
At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.
“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.
You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”
Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”
“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”
The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”
His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”
Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”
“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.
His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.
The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.
Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.
“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”
A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.
With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.
Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.
He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”
“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.
The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.
The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.
A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.
You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.
There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?
A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.
His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.
You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”
Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”
“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.
The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.
Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.
As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.
The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.
“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.
“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.
Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.
“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.
There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”
“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“
A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”
His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”
You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.
It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.
The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.
The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”
Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.
“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.
Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”
You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.
“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.
When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.
He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.
Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.
“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.
He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.
Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.
The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.
“Kook,” you whine childishly.
Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.
But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.
From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“
He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”
You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“
“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”
The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.
For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”
Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.
“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.
It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).
But, this moment…
The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.
It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.
Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.
It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.
He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.
“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.
Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.
You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”
He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”
You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”
He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”
With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”
His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”
You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”
Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”
You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.
Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”
“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”
“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.
He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”
You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.
“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”
“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”
“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.
—
epilogue 
Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 
—
Copyright Š 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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awhst-alt ¡ 3 years
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I HAD THE BEST BYLER DREAM LAST NIGHT AND I REALLY WANNA SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL
it's so long (literally 2k words) so im gonna put it under the cut haha <3
so basically this would take place after mike and will start dating or something, idk exactly the time frame (i picture them being like 18 or something and this is the summer before college) and will goes to this summer arts program for like 2/3 months (i dunno how long american summer is but something like that) and its all the way far from home so there is dorms and stuff and he's "not in hawkins anymore" (no pun intended)
mike and will decide after will finishes his school they'd go to college together (cuz they're gonna be comic book artists together bc thats boyfriend shit) so throughout these months he's practically just waiting for will (<333333)
so one specific scene i remember from my dream involved will and mike getting off the bus to the school and then they hug and then mike grabs wills hand and brings him behind the bus and then he gives will a biggg kiss bc he won't be able to kiss him for 3 months. then they say they love each other and will gives him another quick kiss and is like "two kisses". they agree they'd call each other every day.
so will goes inside and mike goes back on the bus and goes home.
and basically the whole day is a whirl, until the end of it, in which mike is sitting in the kitchen near the phone waiting for like 3 hours for will to call, and will doesn't end up calling.
AND THEN IT GETS SPICYYYYY
so meanwhile at the arts program will asks like the front desk or something if he can call mike and they say phone is offlimits and they don't let him call mike
so then will goes to sleep and he's paranoid that he thinks mike is gonna hate him or something like that
mk than the next day in class there is this girl (they didn't reveal her name in the dream, ill call her stella) so stella is basically looking at will the entire class but will doesn't know it
so when they exit the class stella's like "hi" and will says "hi"
then stella says "i like your painting."
will is like rlly weirded out so he goes "thanks?"
"i um- hope this doesn't sound weird but i have no friends, do you want to be mine?"
"sure"
and then end of scene (this does not sound like a normal conversation but it's my dream so it doesn't have to make sense"
so BACK AT HAWKINS mike is still sleeping even tho it's like 3 pm because yk depressed boyfriend shit but then the PHONE RINGS and mike gets out of bed frantically and goes to the phone and he picks it up and is like "will?" and then it answers "it's el, idiot"
i feel like this is important for context but el speaks english very well now and hoppers back and she lives with hopper and not the byers anymore. ANYWAYS
el says "how's will?"
mike says "idk he didn't call"
"he didn't?"
"no, he didn't"
"okay. well maybe he will call later"
"yeah mb"
"wanna come over"
"ok"
so mike hangs up and gets changed and goes to el's house bc they r a couple o' besties and when he gets there it's like a therapy sessions bc mike usally talks to will every single day and he can't for like 3 months (unless will calls, but he's not going to) so he accepts he's gonna be depressed for 3 months and he's just talking to el about how he's gonna miss him so much and no be able to see his face and that shit
so el's like "well do u wanna do something to take ur mind off of him"
and mike's like "no im not gonna replace will" (I SCREAMED IN MY DREAM SRSLY)
but than el says "okay. guess im gonna go to the mall by myself" (ig starcourt is rebuilt by now)
and than mike bolts up and is like "fine"
"we can by something for will"
"okay yay"
so then they go to starcourt yasss!!
anyways back at the art school will is having lunch and stella is with he friends (even tho she said she doesn't have any friends) and one of her friends is like "omg did you see _____ he's so hot"
and another friend says "YESS! but ____ is cuter"
"what abt u stella? who do u have ur eyes on"
she says "byers" BUT NOOOOOOO WILL IS MIKES MAN
and they say "ew that kid who came back to life"
she says "yea. but he's cute, and shy, and once i wrap them around my finger i can get them to do anything"
so then she goes to sit down next to will at lunch
"hi will"
"hi"
"hru"
"im good"
"okay. good." and she gets upset because will goes ask how she is but she keeps her urging rage inside. and than they have this weird conversation and will is uncomfortable the whole time bc shes all like flirting with him and will is seeing someone obvi
but then she puts a hand on will's shoulder and he's shaking and then says something (idk what it is it wasn't explaining in my dream) then will stands up and runs to the bathroom. so he's just sitting in the stalls crying.
okay back at starcourt this part wasn't shown in my dream but im just gonna make up that mike and el go looking around starcourt for something for will (sort of like the mike/lucas/will montage where they were looking for stuff for el) and then i guess they find something for will and i don't have the slightest idea what they could have got for him BUT THEY GOT HIM SOMETHING GOOD
so mike's all happy but they'res still that depression inside of him lol
so fast forward a week, it really isn't explained but ill just make up that will still hasn't called mike, and he's super sad and all sleeping in but decides to look through his good ol binder full of will's drawings and in the arts school will and stella have a few more interactions im sure which are still very uncomfortable
okay so it's lunch again in the cafeteria and somehow will and stella are talking again but somehow it ends in stella kissing will and will like pulls away immediatley and is like "what is wrong with you!?"
and she says "what?"
"i'm seeing someone!"
"oh i uh- i didn't know."
the whole cafeteria is staring at them
so will's freaking out almost on the verge of a panic attack "idk what to do, he's gonna hate me and-"
"he?"
will has the look on his face like shit shit shit oh fuck no
"you're gay?"
"i-"
and will runs off once again. and everyone in the whole cafeteria knows that he's day and ofc with everybody being homophobic will knows it's not good at all bc everyone's gonna bully him
so then the next day he goes to class and the teacher is like "does anyone care to tell me where ___ is?" (it would be like a math question like 'where x is' but in art idkkk) and then the teacher calls on "will? can you tell me where ___ is?" and they'res a pause and then the teacher says "or perhaps you'd want to find your boyfriend instead?" (giving me anne with an e vibes prolly cuz i did a rewatch last weekend but i won't explain more in case some people haven't watched it but) anyways will stands up from his seat, everyone is looking at him, and he's shaking and so concerned but then he goes "fuck. you" badass will yeaaaa thats my boy
so then he runs out of the classroom and out of the school in a really cool montage way but then he realizes he's like 2 hours away from home but he runs and runs and he goes to a random bustop (it's not even garanteed if it takes him to hawkins but whatever) he gets on and tries to go back to hawkins.
and soon enough, he gets there, and immediatley goes to the wheelers because he needs to see mike and apologize for everything. so he's at the wheelers, and rings the doorbell, realizing he's still in his uniform lol but karen answers and mike is upstairs in his room sulking (i picture it would be 8 pm by now) so will asks for mike and karen calls mike. mike groans obviously because he doesn't know it's his boy, but he comes down, karen gets out of the way and as soon as he sees will they have a really big hug and it's super sweet and my heart UFHEIOSKA
mike says his usual "are you okay?" and mike is still confused as shit but will says "i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry" and mike says "you don't have to be sorry for anyrhing" but will says "ill explain"
so then they go to will's room, side-by-side on his bed and will starts explaining everything
(this is mostly improvised by me but it's still pretty similar to the dream)
"i hated it."
"the school?"
"yeah. there was no you, (mike blushes lmao), everything was terrible, i felt so lonely, they didn't let me call you-"
"what?"
"they said the phone was off limits. i wanted to talk to you so bad and i thought you'd hate me"
"i could never hate you, will, even if i tried." will smiles
"and then there was this girl, and she hit on me and i didn't know what to do bc i'd be the face of the school if i told her i was dating you and was gay and today she kissed me"
"WHAT"
"im sorry im sorry i didn't kiss back and i was so scared bc i never was in a relationship before and i was so scared it was considered cheating-"
and mike LAUGHSS
"what? mike? what's wrong?"
"if you don't do anything back, it's not considerd 'cheating'"
"oh. good. are you mad at me?"
"what? no! no never!" so mike opens his arms and says "come here" so will and mike hug or something like that and then mike says "do you need me to beat her up?"
and will says "you can't even beat eggs. besides, your noodle arms wouldn't be able to do harm to even a fly"
so mike laughs and says "i'm glad your home"
so will blurts "i cursed out a teacher"
"you? cursing?"
"yes."
"might have to start calling you a bad boy now"
will just smiles and says "i love you"
and mike says "i love you too"
AND THEN END AND IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF BC I LOVE THIS DREAM LIKE I CAN'T BELIEVE MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF THIS BUT IM OBSESSED
ALSO ONCE I FINISH WYBMFFAE ILL PROBABLY WRITE THIS INTO A FULL BLOWN FIC BUT AHIHFUSAH
edit: i have no idea what mike did with the present him and el bought for will but i guess they ended up giving it to him lol
37 notes ¡ View notes
youranxiousnerd ¡ 3 years
Text
Second Chances Thoughts
bc what
spoilers below
i have...thoughts
ah no chaotic intro, f in the chat
it’s still a nice intro, tho
IM SORRY ARE THEY NOT SHOWING THE TRANSFORMATION?!?!
WHAT
THIS IS A HATE CRIME /j
i used the thingy
no bows either?!?!
this is called high school musical: the musical: the series not high school musical: the backstage drama: the series
wow they got changed fast
“Passable!” 
I’ll be the judge of that oh wait i cant bc they didnt show us
YES QUEEN ASHLYN GETTING THE LOVE SHE DESERVES
ashlyn is such a queen
the perfect belle, stunning
“A couple letters, actually” it’s a sign (literally)
flower touch
AWWW REDLYN
STOP THEY’RE ADORABLE
they love each other so much
east high kids be snooping
not me thinking about carlos’ hand on seb’s back we were robbed im taking what i can get
“You were the perfect Belle tonight. I was really proud”
“Evil genius”
they’re so happy
AWWW A REDLYN KISS WHOOP WHOOP
kourt and howie are so awkward 
“drumroll?”
howie and seb would get along
weird little playoff, maybe he is lying?
they’re cute, tho
sad that they didn’t really get any build-up
“happy now?” “yes”
“If it’s with you, always” MY HEART
just like a fanfic
kourtney just invited north highs beast to east highs cast party
OH MY GOD MAZZARA IS ACTUALLY GETTING A STORY ABOUT HIM
i was not expecting that okay
ej and mazzara are the best
gina is so happy too bad it wont last
gina is an actress 
gahhhh portwell drama
oh god rini let the drama begin
that was very calm, did someone possess nini and ricky?
i really like them as best friends. i was a hardcore rini shipper last season but with all their constant conflict i realized how much fun they are as friends
“we are literally on the same page” 
“just for a moment” I LOST MY SHIT
miss jenn no
oooo seblos please be good
Seb calling Miss. Jenn out on her bullshit since idk when
“That’s a hard never mind now” okay wow
Miss. Jenn is Carlos’ godmother 
This is theatre, not football
CRYING GINA
gini
GINA SUPPORT DAY IS A THING PEOPLE!!!!!
oh wow a plot line actually being addressed
season 1 callback im not ready
gina and nini people!!! 
very sweet scene
ahha jamie callback we all knew it
i would really like to see miss jenns batb audition notes
“I’m in a great place, mentally” if you were you wouldn’t be saying that
OMFG IS SHE NOT GOING TO APOLOGIZE!?!?!
like that was a big deal, a big effing deal and then nothing?
you told a kid to jump off something high and you can’t even say “sorry”?!?!
back to the miss jenn love triangle
“I think I’m happy, or gettin’ there”
ricky you don’t have to be there yet it’s okay
that line hit
SEASON 1 OUTFITS
CORE 4 SONG
killer harmonies
sofia giving us that alto rep!!
portwell duet! audition outfits
very good, very very good. this song kinda screams autotune but it still sounds very good. 
last song of the season NOOO but very fitting
Is it just me or does “Second Chance” look like a music video they show in Justice (the teen store) in 2014?
cast bonding yay!
PAUSE THE ONLY SEBLOS MOMENT WE GOT THIS EPISODE WAS A WRIST HOLD?!?!!
DISNEY WTF
LIKE EVERY COUPLE GOT THEIR MOMENT AND ALL THEY GET IS A WRIST HOLD
BFBLBFIWGFSDMBF
shit why does my favorite ship have to be the gay one on a disney show?
east high booing the lily and french boi has me on the floor
“Big Red, you were also in it” BEST LINE OF THE FINALE OMFG
i missed antoine 
sorry carlos has glitter on his face
seb’s smile and wave at north high why am i laughing?
off topic but i have unintentionally started doing the seb wave (you know the one) (with the fingers) in real life.
also gay chair sit
e.j is also doing the gay chair sit 
lily what
you have had like one conversation
ew
she says she likes his face but not his personality? 
im calling bullcrap
pause didn’t lily steal the harness? are we just going to forget about that
probably, the writers did forgot to develop seblos
Let Ricky be single challenge
ANTOINE MY LOVE
REDLYN I LOVE YOU
SHUSH EJ’S SPEECH TIME TO SOB
ummmm
so this season has been for nothing?
all the shit they went through (the self-doubt, relationship problems, the injuries, the death threats) is for nothing?!?
since when does Miss. Jenn not care anymore about the Menkies?!?!
I actually get the kids side of this, but not Miss. Jenn’s. 
I was surprised they took this route with the Menkies, didn’t even cross my mind 
“It was five”
Big Red x medicine 
bet your ass ashlyn would have gotten a nomination best actress
“We got a pizza oven” THE EAST HIGH KIDS ARE COMMITTING ARSON
is mazzara staying for miss jenn? they could do long distance but it doesnt have the best rep in this show
gini
ashlyn is the captain of the portwell ship and nini is her right hand man (or whatever second best is called in sailing)
NINI MAKIN THE DEALS
RICKY WHY ARE YOU CALLING HER
WHYYYYYY
“Will you be my first kiss” smiles
OH MY GOD
WAIT NOTHING
WHAT
OMFG THEY CUT IT LMAO
“this summer is about to get hot” SUMMER SEASON 3?!?!
ANTOINE
OMFG HE BETTER COME BACK
I LOVE ABF
WAIT THATS IT
FWBEGLEWG
THATS IT
hey they ended with andrew barth feldman what more can you ask for?
Thats...it?
Oh wait some cast stuff...brb ima cry. The ending has some very series finale energy...I’m scared. Natalie wouldn’t have done the “buckle up wildcats” if there wasn’t a season 3, right? But the bloopers at the end...
The cast ending was great. “You are the Music in Me” was so heartfelt and I’m a sucker for bloopers.
Wait so no Lily home? It was probably a cut scene. 
If we got Lily home, can we get an album with the cast singing all the BATB songs? 
I have so many mixed feelings about this episode. Here is the thing, if you love the core 4 then this was your episode. If you’re like me and prefer the side leads then this was probably a little disappointing since we barely saw them. This episode felt rushed and a little messy, but there were some great moments. Season 2′s writing has felt a little weird. This season lacked the chaotic theater kid energy season 1 had. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with the show. If/when we get a season 3 I really hope the writers find that energy again.
Let’s all give a round of applause for the cast and crew who filmed majority of the season during a global pandemic. That could not have been easy. They gave us a pretty good season under crazy conditions. They definitely had to change some things to fit the current climate. Overall, hats off the the cast and crew because you guys killed it. 
I’m really going to miss this show, hopefully it gets renewed. It has become a comfort show these past several weeks. My sanity says “no, don’t go” but my sleep schedule says “leave.”
To second chances!!
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mikwrites-archive ¡ 4 years
Text
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danger
       ➳ requested by @croctears​: im gon go ahead a req a badboy seungcheol bc im a huge mf simp for him 0:
➳ pairing: choi seungcheol x reader        ➳ warnings: mentions of blood, insecurity ➳ genre: bad boy but secretly soft seungcheol, v slight angst         ➳ wc: 1.7k
➳ a/n: idk if this classifies as bad boy cheol but i hope you like it !! ♡ i tried something new w this au/trope and pushing this out while suffering from writers block was not v fun WHJBSDJFH
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“Anyone catching your eye lately?”
“You ask this every week ‘Kwannie.” You sigh, and he huffs while Joshua snorts. 
“A week can change a lot! You can’t tell me you don’t see someone at least once a day that you’re interested in.” 
“I mean, if I had to choose, I guess...” You mutter the name lowly, partly hoping they wouldn’t catch it, but you knew them better.
“Choi Seungcheol?”
“Keep your voice down!” You hiss, swatting Seungkwan with the book in your hand, and being utterly stunned with your confession, he doesn’t react.
“I didn’t say I had a crush on him or anything, I just think he’s...”
“Hot?” Joshua offers knowingly, and you’re grateful you’re all sitting on the floor at the reception desk while sorting through returns.
“No! Well, yes, but he’s also...“
Dangerous.
“Just forget it.” You dismiss, and they both frown.
“He’s literally the resident bad boy of our school. And you’re like, the goody two shoes. I don’t think we can just forget it.”
“Okay, Mr. I watched Grease once and think it can apply to real life.”
“I’d like to see you and Seungcheol try singing ‘You’re The One That I Want’ like John Travolta and Olivia Newton John.” Seungkwan scoffs.
“Excuse me?”
The three of you bolt up at the sound of an all too recognizable voice, and you’re the first to act, scrambling to sit on the chair, clearing your throat.
“Yes?”
Seungcheol leans against the counter, fitted leather jacket creasing, handing a piece of paper over, and you fight the urge to cry out as Seungkwan pinches your arm, hard.
“One of my friends is looking for this book, but doesn’t know if we have it.”
You can palpably feel their disappointment at the contents of the note behind you, and you take the paper, recognizing the title easily.
“We do, I put it back just this morning so it should still be there.”
“Lead the way.” Seungcheol gestures, and you glance back pleadingly to Seungkwan and Vernon who are suddenly invested in the stack of books you left.
Seeing as you had no other choice, you proceed through the aisles silently, and when you reach the destined one, you scan the titles quickly, Seungcheol observing your actions relaxedly. When you find it, you slide it out of its place carefully, handing it to him lightly. 
“Thanks.” He smiles roguishly at you, adding on as he examines the cover, flipping it between his hands. “By the way, ‘Summer Nights’ is more of my taste.”
“You heard that?” You squeak as the words settle in your realization, covering your face with one hand, and Seungcheol grins. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He shrugs, and his nonchalance is a contrast to the fidget in your limbs. “It was cute.”
“That’s... good.” 
You want nothing more than the library floors to crack open and swallow you whole, but he laughs, walking backwards out of the aisle, and it’s the kind that draws a hesitant smile onto your own face.
“Thanks again for the book. We should hang out sometime. You’re fun.”
The headache that he leaves you with, accompanying the final words, is no match to Seungkwan and Joshua’s screeches that escape in the quiet library when you tell them what occurred.
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“Can I use your phone? Mine died.” Joshua asks expectantly during one of your study sessions, and you hand it over reluctantly, much to Joshua’s gratitude and Seungkwan’s amusement.
“She’s talking to her boyfriend, Joshua, quit interrupting.” Seungkwan drawls the last word teasingly, and you huff.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You call him Cheol?” Joshua gapes, the text notification popping up, and you snatch it back immediately. “Hey, I wasn’t done using that!”
“Use Seungkwan’s then!”
“So have you guys been talking often?” Joshua inquires curiously, after silence befalls the table, and you shrug.
“I guess? We’ve hung out at school a little and he’s asked me to go for boba a few times, but-”
“Don’t tell me you said no.”
“I said no.” 
“Why?” Seungkwan wails. “I thought you liked him! He certainly seems to like you!”
“I never said that!” You ignore his other comment.
“You didn’t have to!” 
“He’s... he’s really nice. He really is. But I don’t want to have to deal with the whole... reputation thing. Remember last month when he was literally all everyone talked about because he got a new tattoo? Or crashed his motorcycle in the parking lot? Or all the fights he’s gotten into?”
“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” Joshua snorts. “If you like him then who cares what everyone else talks about?”
“I’ll think about it.” You sigh, and you don’t catch the knowing looks they send one another.
But you don’t get a chance to think about it for long, the next day Seungkwan bursts into the classroom you usually all eat lunch together in, bent over and out of breath.
“Your boyfriend. In a fight. Cafeteria.” He manages to wheeze out.
You don’t have the time to refute the title Seungkwan put on Seungcheol, grabbing your bag and bolting out of the room.
You reach the front ring throughout the crowd just as Seungcheol delivers a punch, sending the other boy staggering into a side mass of people.
His mouth is bloody, spitting red to the side, cheek bruised purple and knuckles scraped. He braces for another throw, and you call out in the yells and cheers.
“Seungcheol!”
You’re not sure if he hears you, the crowd surging as staff appears and attempts to break the conflict apart, no one wanting to be caught as an instigator.
You wait agitatedly in the nurse’s office after lunch is over, grateful to the coincidence that you happened to volunteer during this day.
“I thought you worked in the library.” Seungcheol halts at the doorway, looking entirely distressed at your presence, and you keep your expression flat.
“I do. But I also work in the nurse’s office.” You gesture for him to sit down on the cot, and he does slowly.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I was in that fight?” He pipes up after a few moments of silence.
“I’m not your mom, Seungcheol.” You respond with little interest. 
“You look like her when she’s mad at me. Are you mad?”
“Why do you care?” It comes out harsher than intended.
“I can’t care?” He retorts, and you place down your supplies with a strong exhale. 
“No, it’s just that I’m not a close friend of yours, we’re not dating, so I don’t know why you expect me to have an opinion on something that doesn’t apply to me.”
“Maybe I want you to care.” He murmurs, and you swallow, chucking the bloodied gauze into the trashcan. Before you can respond, mulling over the appropriate words to utter, he stands, exiting the room. His last words are a low mutter before the door slams shut. 
“Sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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He doesn’t talk to you for a week after that.
You’re not sure if it’s because he’s suspended for most of it, or the looks that Seungkwan and Joshua send him whenever they’re with you and he comes near, but you don’t seek him out either.
It’s not until you see him walk out after school, busying yourself with your book as you see him approach, waiting on a bench in the parking lot for your late ride. Scuffed black boots enter your vision and you look up.
“Hey. Shouldn’t you have gone home already?”
“I’m waiting for my ride. They’re late.” You reply plainly, and Seungcheol scoffs. He’s still bandaged, but you can tell they’re healing well.
“I’ll take you home.”
“But... don’t you come to school on your motorcycle?”
He only raises an eyebrow at you in response, walking towards said bike, helmet under his arm, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you contemplate whether you should follow.
The text message that pings your phone answers for you, telling you they wouldn’t be there for another hour, and you scramble after Seungcheol.
“Here. I’ve ridden this enough to not need it this time.”
“Are you sure? I can always just walk home or something.” Your gaze lowers to the ground the more you progress in your sentence, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the asphalt. “You did just get into a fight not too long ago.”
He’s wholly amused at your suggestion as he tilts your chin up with two fingers.
“You’re too cute.”
He’s still holding the helmet out, and you take it hurriedly, shoving it on to cover your flushed features.
“Hold tight.” He advises as you climb awkwardly onto the bike behind him, and you immediately cling to him like plastic wrap after you tell him your address.
“You okay?” He leans the bike on his kickstand, and you nod, hopping off the seat and tugging the helmet off.
“Thank you.”
He shrugs in response, and you gnaw at your bottom lip.
“Do... do you want to come inside?” You offer, turning back and holding the gate open for him. “My parents aren’t home, not that that means anything, but I thought...”
It’s an olive branch, extended as a true desire to fully reconcile, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes it, stepping past the gate. 
“Do you want anything to eat? Drink?” Seungcheol hasn’t uttered a word as he sits in your kitchen, toying with the edge of the tablecloth as you sit across from him awkwardly.
“No thanks.”
“Cheol.” He looks up at you, expression unreadable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I...” you hesitate. “I just really like you. And I care about you. Too much I think considering we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. And I know I shouldn’t care about what others think if we get together, but I’m scared.”
“I’m sorry too.” He takes your hand gently, resting on the table. “I like you a lot. I just didn’t tell you, and that’s nothing you should beat yourself up over sweetheart. Please don’t be scared.” He smooths circles along the back of your hand comfortingly, smiling at you toothily.
“We’ll get through it together if we care about one another, and if it ever stops, let’s make the most of it.”
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➳ taglist: @writeiolite @soranihimawari @peachy-yabbay
191 notes ¡ View notes
tardytothepardy ¡ 3 years
Text
hm
Ok, so I've just finished reading through Gakuen Alice, the whole finale and everything, and I kinda feel like it was either rushed, or missing something. There were just weird elements to it, and stuff that doesn't make sense to me.
(massive spoilers for a lot of the series below, just an fyi)
So, in the finale, Mikan's been taken away from Alice Academy, and has been away from it for a couple years. She has no memory of anything from that time, though she sometimes still gets hit by intense emotions unexpectedly, most likely parts of her memory trying to get through. She's a high school student, she's 16 years old, and apparently there's recently been an incident of kidnappings in the area that seem to specifically target girls around her age.
So when she goes down to the beach with her two friends, simply called Sa-chan and Shi-chan, and a bunch of shit starts going down, there's reason to panic, right? Ahh, there's a bunch of men here that I don't know that are going to kidnap me!!! But then, another group of men that she doesn't know show up and beat them up! Whoa! Then, randomly, for some reason, one of her friends just smooshes up her face and suddenly she's an entirely different person. But that's not all. All these new strange men seem to know her, and they have crazy powers! There's one guy who just made all the kidnappers pass out with a wave of his hand! Another guy seemed to just make fire spring out of nowhere! What the fuck??
I just,, the way that Narumi and Tsubasa and Natsume and Tonouchi and fuckin,,, everyone else just seems to think it's so funny and wacky that Mikan, who does not remember any of them, is freaking out and thinking they are going to kidnap her, it bothers me. Like, imagine just going through your day, then a bunch of weird men who act like they know you surround you completely, then just laugh at you when you freak out. What the hell.
I just generally have gripes about how the characters act, basically. It's just fucking weird to me, idk. Could it be due to the fact that I read all of this within the span of maybe three days? Sure. But still.
Starting off, I just have to talk about how Natsume,,, acted? behaved? responded? something,, to Mikan. He fecking grabbed her wrist (and uh, again, she hasn't remembered who any of these people are yet) and just fuggin stares at her. Sure, that does trigger something in Mikan's memory, and she's starting to vaguely re-remember stuff, but then he just??? grabs her chest????? What????? WHy?? Would??? you??? do?? that????? I just,,, I know that he did do shit like that earlier in the series, constantly making comments about how flat her chest was (YOUR HONOR SHE'S FECKING TEN YEARS OLD WHAT'S YOUR DEFENSE) and looking down her shirt or whatever, but,, from around the first Christmas party onwards, he never pulled any of that shit. He never made comments about any of that weird shit, none of that. I (foolishly, apparently) thought that he had,, I dunno,, kinda moved on from that whole,,,, assault,,, thing,,, but no. Guess not.
And like, at this point, idk how old he would be, but probably around 17 ish years old. Wh-- why?? What,, what-- WHY DID HE DO THAT??? WHY DID HE THINK THAT WAS A CORRECT THING TO DO??? It was bad enough when they were younger and actually knew each other, it's fucking gross and uncomfortable now that they're both older and SHE DOESN'T FUCKING REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK HE IS. To her, he's just some random creep who groped her? Ah, teenage romance, what a dream~~
After that.... incident, a few other things happen, but he just fucking grabs her (she still hasn't fully realized what is going on or who any of these random men are) and fukkin yells at her for leaving the school before he woke up, all those years ago. Dude, buddy, pal, friendo, she didn't have any control over any of that shit. She wasn't the reason that Nodacchi brought him back a week or so after Mikan left, she didn't know any of that!! She was waiting that whole time, but she didn't have any control over when Nodacchi would bring back Natsume, I just,,, why. It annoys me immensely.
(i'm rereading through the whole interaction again and uh,, yeah that one panel where he's holding her and just starts talking about shit that she doesn't remember or understand and then fuggin says "You are mine"??? UH,, DUDE?? NO. STOP. Props to Mikan for not losing her shit bc I definitely would. I'd be having a panic attack or something, this is an intensely stressful situation and I just,,, The sighs that I am sighing are so intense. Disappointment is accompanying every exhale, I stg.)
It is only after Mikan absorbs that fragment of her first Alice stone that she even starts to remember stuff and I just,, I do not like it.
Moving on from that, Ruka. What's up with him. What's he been doing this whole time. Idk. He just feels weird to me. Maybe it's the fact that everyone's all grown up and all seem to be experiencing a particularly nasty case of same-face-syndrome, but he just seems so,,, bland? Empty? There's something off about it, I don't get it. I mean, at least Ruka doesn't try to do something to Mikan when she hasn't remembered who tf he is, so he has that going for him.
At least he has a purpose beyond just standing there: it's to give Mikan those earbuds that Hotaru made, and they allow for Mikan to hear Hotaru's voice which spurs her to become determined to find her. (Also apparently whenever this is all taking place, that is actually Mikan's birthday. Some point in the summer, I think? I can't say for sure without checking the wiki.) (ok so I looked at the wiki and it says her birthday is May 17th, so, yeah.)
But yeah I just,, after Mikan remembers everything and agrees that she wants to find Hotaru, the entire Class B from when Mikan was in the Alice Academy is suddenly transported there, and among the things that I saw, I saw that Nobara and Persona,,, had a kid??? What??? I'm confused. Never mind the fact that he's probably like twice her age, easily, but like,,, where tf did that come from? I don't get why that happened. It's weird. Why? Why was that a thing? I'm confused.
I'm not sure that I'm just underwhelmed, I think I'm also kinda disappointed, honestly. The series had been picking up so much steam, there were so many things going on, feelings were developing and growing, and I was completely caught up in it. But after the scene where Hotaru and Subaru sacrifice themselves so that Mikan can be with Natsume in the future I just,, wasn't really feeling it? I mean, I was crying all the way through to when Mikan was being taken out of Alice Academy, that was sad and stuff, but then the last few chapters just felt so rushed. So many things (but it also felt like too few things) were just piled on top of each other, one thing after another, I didn't feel anything. I was expecting to be elated once Mikan and Natsume were reunited, after all, that was the whole reason why Hotaru sacrificed herself. I fuckin watched him die, and I was screaming and rocking around in my chair and hyperventilating, I was caught up in all of that. But when Mikan did remember everything and stuff, I was fine. "Oh, cool. That's nice." I don't even know why, honestly.
I think, really, that (and this sounds questionable) I preferred everyone as kids. Because up to this point, they've all been kids. The way that they act are the ways that kids act (more or less, no kid should be through a fraction of what these kids were through), and I became familiar with them. But now everyone's grown up, they're almost adults, but since this is the finale, there isn't time to show how people have changed, and so they just feel one-dimensional. Like, I think one of the main reasons why Natsume's actions threw me off so much was that, like I said, it seemed like he had dropped that behavior (of um, groping, assaulting, harassment, stuff like that) kinda early on in the story. From at least the first Christmas party and onward, he never made weird comments, he just didn't do weird shit, and that's why it's so weird that that's what he decided to do. "Hey, how I can jog the memory of the girl that I fell in love with all those years ago? Well, I suppose I can grab her chest and comment on how it's bigger. That seems like a solid plan." Dude, what? No.
This whole encounter, of finding Mikan, was a thing that was thought about, almost certainly planned, for who knows how long, but it just kinda feels like they (the entire group) had like, a week, to come up with a plan to find Mikan, try to get her memories back, and then ???? something???
It's weird, I'm tired, and kinda disappointed. Which is really sad, because I really liked the story up until the finale. I almost feel like there's something else, to the story. That chapter 180 isn't the end, but that's as far as I could read it, so that's all I could get from it.
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gausses ¡ 2 years
Text
so i was tagged by @laudnaum and i just woke up from a 2h nap, hoookay let’s go ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
name: Lu
age: 27
height: 1.69m i think?
where do you call home? middle of nowhere in southern lower saxony
any tattoos or piercings? 4 in my ears, little kiwi on my right arm, a skull with a snake on my right upper thigh and a ...sleeve on my left arm. there was very much no concept behind it so its kinda patchworky. love the raven in the middle of it tho. and a bee on my left hand. all bw except the skull
last song you listened to? I was cleaning my flat earlier and i love dancing to upbeat/embarassing pop music during it so it was “I feel good” by Pitbull... but before that i listened to KIZ “Lecken im Puff” (why yes my music taste is garbage)
last movie you watched? aftermath i think it was called? it was boring i turned it off half way.
last book/fanfic you read? currently reading Stephen King’s The Dead Zone
do you collect anything? plants. weird/embroidered pictures.
morning person/night owl? depends on the time of year, currently very much a night owl but as soon as summer hits im gonna be up and at it at 5am. catch me in the gym at 6am running my 5km
optimist/pessimist/realist? eet is what eet is-st ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
a quote you live by? idk, i’ve learnt in the past year that it’s better to be yourself than a well-liked person that you cant stand. also you should always give everything a try, even if it’s just to find out you hate it.
introvert/extrovert/ambivert? ambivert very much
do you believe in the afterlife? i wish i did
a weird or fun fact about yourself? idk i feel like im such an open book? im oversharing most of the time so i will just ramble a bit here abt stuff, enjoy: I have no taste, my mother will tell me that a lot. and other people told me that- i get it, i dress weird sometimes but it makes me happy. i still love patterns with animals on them, no not leo print. i mean; give me actual leopards on the shirt. after 5 years i had to retire my bird rain jacket (picture) but found one with dogs on it (picture). Older women love this jacket, i got some compliments for it. one time i was i was in line for the register in edeka and the lady behind me asked me where i got it bc she has the same dogs that are on there. love it! And I can finally deadlift my own body weight! cant wait to wear spagehtti straps in summer bc my upper body/shoulders look so good. very happy with my fitness journey considering i had to lay low for 4 months and still struggle with my foot on some days. dont shatter your foot bones children. lastly; i started playing the guitar and its so much fun. but i havent had any lessons this year bc of miss rona and currently not the time to look for a new teacher; nor the money to go to an actual music school. so im just playing the same 5 songs over and over. my darkest secret? I started listening to country music to find songs to play/practice and i love it so much in a completly unironic way. Mason Ramsey’s “Before I knew it” SLAPS and i will fight you over it. yee haw!
if you could have coffee with someone, dead or alive, who would it be? im having a really bad crush on someone and im probably going to see them again in a few weeks but it would be nice to see them sooner aaahhhh. also any of my mutuals reading this, idk im not very talkative and always nervous but uh yeah- i have normal coffee, decaf and far too much tea.  so uhm mh im tagging??? @davinciae, @sorrel-ly and @anakinskvwalkcr if y’all want to maybe, i thought this was fun but no pressure (○` 3′○)
anyway now i have to go back to my rheology exercises ┗( T﹏T )┛
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willow-lane ¡ 3 years
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I saw [WILLOW LANE] at a coffee shop in [BROOKLYN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [MADELYN CLINE]. They are a [TWENTY-THREE] year old [WAITRESS] who’s been in NYC for [A YEAR] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [SPONTANEOUS AND FREE SPIRITED] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [NON-COMMITTAL AND SELF-INDULGENT]. [OUT OF THE BLUE BY KATIE PRUITT] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. / @villagestart​
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Hello everyone! I’m Ella and I’m super excited to be part of this roleplay and introduce Willow to all of you, she’s a new muse but she’s based on an old muse of mine so I think I have her figured out or mostly lol. I’d love to plot with all of you, so please like this or hmu. If you want my discord, I’d be happy to give it to you, just ask :D
basics
NAME: ava willow lane
NICKNAME: will, lolo, pillow
GENDER: cis female
PLACE OF BIRTH: burlington, vermont
DATE OF BIRTH: september 28, 1997
AGE: twenty-three
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual
OCCUPATION: waitress
NEIGHBORHOOD: brooklyn
background
Burlington was a dream within a dream, the station next to heaven. A town in love with itself and whose residents gloated about the wooded land, creased by hills, and threaded by streams. 
The Lanes were living the typical American dream: the big house with the white picket fence, a large backyard and two perfect children. It was dreamlike.
Their kids could count themselves lucky and Willow Lane certainly did for most of her life. As the youngest daughter of a successful surgeon and a renowned psychotherapist who taught at the University of Vermont, she was taught that receiving an education was the only way to get ahead in life.
Her parents made sure to set their kids to success and while most of the kids from her street were out there playing, she was holed up in her room, reading the stacks of encyclopedia books her parents bought me for her birthday. 
As a young child, Willow was filled with a sense of wonder, and encouraged by her curious personality she wanted to learn everything.
By the time she was in the sixth grade, she was smarter than most of the kids in her class, still her parents reminded her every day that she must outrank them all. Her parents took pride in her achievements. They were quick to boast about it in public, but they remained strict in private. Anything less than gold didn’t deserve a place on the wall.
Her afternoons were always full. Whether it was ballet class, french lessons, piano lessons or soccer practice. She had no time for herself.
Then high school started and by then she was overworked. Tired of chasing perfection and only being met with a “try harder”. 
TW: DRUGS, ADDICTION, VOMIT MENTION, PANIC ATTACK: While she was still number one at her school, it was taking everything in her to keep it that way. Her parents didn’t know about those panic attacks she suffered at night or how she threw up before any competition. To them, she was handling well and she was very good at pretending but she also had a little secret. In her sophomore year, she was introduced to Adderall and she was quickly hooked. END OF TW
When she got accepted into a prestigious university, her parents didn’t hesitate to brag about how their kid would attend an Ivy League but Willow was mortified. 
Back in Burlington, she was the biggest fish in the sea but at Princeton there were students who were better and shone brighter than her. 
Maybe it was because she was suddenly cast into a whole new world that was so different from the one she grew up in. Maybe it was because she had harbored a bit of resentment towards her parents for her wasted youth. Whatever it was, by the end of her freshman year, university had swallowed her up. 
TW ALCOHOL, DRUGS, DEPRESSION She got into a bad crowd, drank herself into oblivion, partied harder than anyone, and developed a penchant for bad boys who were much older than her. All this while trying to maintain a perfect GPA. Thanks to her magic pill, she was able to function and not feel guilty about not being as perfect as her parents wanted her to be. After all, she was only trying to recover the freedom that they took from her. 
But this coping mechanism only turned to worse. The more she tried to drown her feelings in alcohol, the harder it came to bite her in the ass. It was clear as water: Willow Lane, picture perfect daughter, was depressed and had been for a while, and now it had caught up to her. 
She was fighting a battle she was slowly losing. Willow was in a constant state of helplessness, staring into the void, and completely unable to pull herself out of it. If it hadn’t been for the upbringing she had, she would have been completely fine with self-destruct. END OF TW
The summer after her freshman year, she came back home and decided to have a talk with her parents. Her parents sat across the table, and they were not celebrating the end of a successful first semester, instead, they were fuming with betrayal. 
Willow told them that she had dropped most of her classes and she explained to them how she was exhausted beyond repair. They were displeased, so disappointed that looking at them was painful. For the first time in their life, their perfect daughter had failed them.
By the end of the evening, her father was livid. Threatened her that if she didn’t take more classes and got excellent grades he would stop paying her tuition. That’s when it hit her. To her parents, she was nothing but an object, an accomplishment to brag about to her friends. That was not love, that was selfish and a wake up call.
She packed up her stuff that evening, went back to Princeton and emptied her dorm as well as she dropped out completely. 
Freedom at last. With only a few bucks in her account, she bought a random bus ticket that took her to Montreal, Canada where she stayed for a couple of weeks, while working as a waitress before she moved to a new location. For the past three years, Willow has been living off a backpack. 
She moved to New York a year ago, but she comes and goes. Whenever she gets bored or too attached to someone she escapes. 
She’s been clean for three years when it comes to Adderall, although she still drinks but only socially.
personality
Despite her strict upbringing, Willow is a free-spirit! She’s always looking for a new adventure and she wants to live her life to the fullest, she doesn’t care about rules or schedules. She lives a pretty hedonistic lifestyle, always chasing a high in life and sometimes that makes her take some reckless decisions. A naturally loving person, Willow is always there to lend a shoulder to cry on or offer to wipe off your tears, however, she does struggle with connections. If she feels a deep connection with someone she runs away as she believes that being attached to someone will tie her up to one place and as we know, Willow lives a pretty nomad life. She keeps coming back to New York because she loves the vibe but when she gets bored or overwhelmed she leaves without warning. As loving as she is, she can also be ruthless and cold, especially when feeling vulnerable. She has a sharp tongue and it’s not afraid to hurt some feelings if that means shattering the pristine image some people have of her.
headcanons
She has a rib cage tattoo that reads “Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.” It’s a quote from Sylvia Plath.
Speaks French fluently and sometimes she likes to pretend she’s a lost French tourist just for fun.
Volunteers at the animal shelter. Because she doesn’t have a set home, she can’t have a pet but she loves animals.
Never has enough battery on her phone and sometimes she sings in the subway to earn some coins because she tends to forget her wallet.
Really good friends with the homeless woman who lives down her street, she brings her food from the restaurant.
Keeps many scrapbooks from the places she’s been.
Sometimes she goes to music stores and plays the piano, one of the few activities she enjoyed as a child.
Loves reading and whenever she’s not getting in trouble or working, she’s at the library.
Wears too many rings, so don’t try to mug her.
connections
Older brother: Willow has an older brother who followed her parents’ plan. He graduated college and now has a very important job. Willow hasn’t spoken to him in three years, even if he’s tried to contact her. She just doesn’t want any ties to her old life, including her family.
“Best Friend”: I put it between quotations because she doesn’t stay in one place long enough to actually form long lasting friendships but this person is the closest to that. She adores them and actually sends them a postcard when she leaves.
Partner in crime: As stated, Willow is pretty reckless and she does a lot of stupid shit but she’s always seeking for someone to be her partner in crime and just go crazy with them.
Co-workers/Clients: She works as a waitress at a restaurant (if your character has a restaurant let me know, bc idk where she would work). 
Neighbor: She lives in a small apartment in Brooklyn with two other roommates, it’s not ideal but it’s what she has.
College friends/hook ups: Oh during her college year, she was a party girl and she made a lot of “friends” (She attended Princeton btw) and also hooked up with a lot of people (f/m/nb), most of them were older than her.
Flirtationship: She is a natural flirt and she doesn’t even try to hide it.
Unrequited: Maybe your character has a crush on her (and depending on chemistry maybe she does as well but since she moves often she tries to ignore it). It’s angsty, it’s fun, give it to me. (f/m/nb)
Hook ups: Y’all know the drill
Bad tinder date: Willow thought it would be fun to go on a tinder date and she proposed some crazy scheme and they both had to spend the night in a jail cell.
Roommates: She lives in Brooklyn with two more roommates.
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one-abuse-survivor ¡ 3 years
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hiya, it's me, the milky way
i just read your last response, bc tumblr seems to have eaten the notif, or it got lost when switching phones (yep, i finally got a new phone :D) thanks so much for the reassuring words; even tho i know my mom is just spewing bs, it's hard to solidly believe that, so thanks for confirming that.
a few days ago i talked to my dad (he was even less helpful than my mom) and he's basically putting all of my issues on "puberty" and "hormones" so i obviously asked how to do it better anyway and he said something along the lines of "you'll grow out of it" or "you'll just have to wait it out" so i was like "ok, sure" but he still expects me to do better right now,which just doesn't make sense. it sucks a lot to have my dad constantly blaming everything on puberty and hormones and expecting me to be better right now even though there is nothing i can do against puberty and hormones.
also there's this thing where my dad makes lots and lots of comments and jokes on other peoples costs and most of them aren't even funny and both me and my mom tell him to stop but he still doesn't. also he often calls me nicknames or pet names and i hate it but he doesn't stop even if i tell him to (he usually just laughs it off) and i though about just straight up telling him how much it hurts everytime he does it but i haven't yet gotten to do that.
another thing that just happened today was that my brother broke up with his gf and my parents were like "we saw that coming" and when i asked them how/why, they said something about having noticed changes in my brother's mood and behavior and like, that hurt because for some reason they can pick apart every little change in my brother but my issues just don't exist. i really feel like my parents aren't just subconsciously avoiding my problems but more purposefully ignoring them. and that just fills me with an entire wildfire of rage and anger towards them
yeah, anyways, thanks for making the tumblr search be able to find all the posts, thanks for doing what you do, i hope you're having a great summer so far. for me it's been rain for the most part.
:)
it's the milky way :)
nothing really changed since the last ask i sent (i believe i sent another one at some point but it might've gotten eaten by tumblr)
but school started again this week and i hate it so so much, there's just so many people everywhere and our timetable is not very well thought out and annoying (lots and lots of walking between classes, even in the short breaks)
i like to think i'm coping well because i have not yet missed any homework and i think my sleep schedule isn't as bad as last year (around 7.5 hours of sleep per night) but i had nightmares in the last 3 nights which kinda ruined them, which makes it so i actually enjoy getting less sleep without nightmares over this.
i also found out that my brother has a therapist (kinda? idk exactly how it works but there is someone getting paid to help him through stuff) and he takes ritalin because he often can't concentrate. so i've come to the conclusion that apparently his struggles are real and he's getting helped while my struggles are not real and i should deal with my shit alone because i've got good grades.
fml i guess
also i'm terrified of relapsing and this year going as sour as last year so there's that
and i got my mom to admit that going to a family counselor would definitely not be a bad idea altho she hasn't done anything about it
hope your day is going great :D
also ps: did you get my last ask or was that really just tumblr eating it?
Hi again!
You're welcome for the reassuring words! I hope you got to enjoy the sun this summer in the end. I've been in a less-than-great mental space all summer, but at least I got to go to the beach often, haha. Also, I'm glad you have a phone again :D
You're right that what your dad says doesn't make any sense—he can't simultaneously tell you you have to grow out of your current struggles because they're all due to teenage hormones and that you should be able to change at will from one second to the next. Yeah, hormones do have a big impact on our emotions, but that doesn't mean your parents shouldn't be helping you navigate your current struggles. The way you feel right now is important to you right now, and that should be reason enough for them to take you seriously. They should be using this opportunity to teach you how to best take care of yourself and to help you solve problems that could still affect you in the future otherwise. Instead, they're choosing to neglect your needs and blame you for struggling with things they can't bother to help you manage.
I think you have every right to be angry that they noticed the changes in your brother's mood and that he's getting proper help while you're being ignored and gaslit about your issues. What they're doing to you is unfair and neglectful and abusive, and you deserve so, so much better than this.
Sorry to hear school has been so overwhelming and you've been having nightmares :( getting a good night's sleep can make all the difference in how you handle everything that goes in in your life, and it really sucks when nightmares interfere with your sleep like that. I hope they get better when you settle into the school routine!
I also really hope your mom goes through with the family counselor idea, and that things go well if she does. And if you talk to your dad about how his nicknames make you feel, I hope that goes well too!
Please know it's not your fault if you do end up relapsing this year. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but if it does, please be gentle with yourself. You're going through a lot right now. It's okay to not be able to handle it all without help, and while your parents ignore, blame and gaslight you. You're doing the best you can given the circumstances, and you deserve to give yourself all the credit for that.
Sending all my support your way ❤️
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Survey #441
“all alone, he turns to stone while holding his breath after death  /  terrified of what’s inside, to save his life he crawls like a worm from a bird”
Have you ever watched a movie in class/school that made you cry? Yep, a few. What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about? If I'm having a really bad day, I can tolerate as early as 7:00. :x What is you favorite type of lunch meat? Honey ham, probably. What time of the year do you dislike the most? Summer is disgusting. It's too hot, too humid, too many bugs, and I just hate it. Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs? No, that sounds gross. What is your favorite color to wear? b l a c k Are you an overachiever? Oh, hunny. What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)? Maybe uhhhh big eyes. What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'hara) would you marry? Darkiplier bc he is merely a misunderstood soft boi. How long have you gone without shaving (girls- legs, armpits; boys- faces)? Legs: It's been nearly a year. Pits: not that long, considering I shave them every time I get in the shower. What is the meanest thing you have ever said to someone else? I'm sure it would be something in one of the letters I sent Jason. Or Dad. Idk. Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry? The phase never ended lmao. What is your favorite thing about your life? My loved ones. Save all the animals that die during road kill or save 1 human from a fire? Sorry, but I'm picking the animals. Have you ever painted a picture of somebody? Yes. How many real bfs/gfs have you had? Two. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Yes. Except for when I was with Tyler. Name a comedy that you like. White Chicks. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Yeah. What’s the best Nirvana song? I'm not sure, really... Maybe "Drain You?" What was the last thing that impressed you? No clue. When was the last time you were in a pet store? Several months ago when I went in to get more rats for Venus. What nationality is your last name? Irish. What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip? Plain, rippled Lays in French onion dip. Who was the last boy that you saw cry? I don't know, actually. It may have been Sara's dad, which was years ago. Does your mom know you do surveys? I mean no, it's not like it's come up in conversation. Have you ever had a serious injury? When I was a kid, there was this one time I was running down the road with my friend, and I tripped; I was a fast runner, so I skinned the everliving FUCK out of my knees to the point there was even pus. I was SOBBING, and it took weeks to heal; I had the scars for years. What was the last thing you achieved? Losing weight at the gymmmm. Staying dedicated to going. Would you enjoy being famous? No. I couldn't take all the eyes on me and even ONE person's negative judgment. What’s under your bed? A big box of my art supplies. Do you enjoy travelling? Yeah. I wish I could do it more. Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? No. When was the last time you drank strawberry milk? Not since I first tried it at elementary school. It was absolutely disgusting. Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set? I doubt it. Do you have a clock in your room? No. Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher? No. If I'd listened to him while driving, I could've gotten myself killed while merging onto the highway. People are assholes and didn't want to move over. Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite? Probably "Freakshow." Does mind over matter work for you? Not usually, no. Are you paranoid? Oh yes. What is the best thing about winter? Everything!!! Literally the only BAD thing about winter is the dry skin/lips. I love the cold, Christmas and all that comes with it, the decor, hot chocolate, snow, getting all cuddly... Everything. :') Have you ever been truly in love? Absolutely. Are you currently planning a trip? No. A trip to Illinois is just a wish right now. How many plants are in your home? None, I think? What is your favorite possession? Excluding my pets (because I don't like calling them "possessions"), probably my laptop. Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked? I have before, yes. What movies have tripped you out? Off the top of my head, the only entertainment media in general that has ever truly "tripped me out" was the first time I played the Silent Hill game. The movie didn't affect me to that level because I already understood the concept. When I watched Jason play it for the first time, I was SO confused and just blown away by the concept that I did loads of research and just thinking about it all. That franchise is just cool as shit, okay. Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade? I LOVED rollerblading. I haven't done it in years, though. Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night? NO. I will NOT settle. Being genuinely in love with my partner is too important to me for me to ever do so. I don't know if any of my friends are in that situation. Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating? With my current body? FUCK no. If I was happy with my body, the answer is still probably no. I'm too self-conscious and awkward with that kind of stuff, and besides, I really don't think I want a picture like that to exist of myself to avoid potential trouble. Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep? No. What summertime treats do you love? We have this local slushy place that is FUCKING BOMB. It may sound basic, but they have SUCH a vast variety of flavors and goodies you can top it with that it's truly just so amazing. How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss? I am VERY picky. I have to be really interested in you. Save for how things were with Tyler... I just felt like I was supposed to. What do you hate most about moving? I. Hate. The process. Of moving. It is just so, so stressful to me. I have a very hard time confronting big tasks, and that's exactly what packing and unpacking entails. Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting? Not necessarily. Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks? No. Has anyone ever whistled at you? I don't think so. Do you like scarves? No. Is your father homophobic? Possibly. I don't actually know. I honestly don't think he took Sara's and my relationship seriously, so that may be a sign. Do you take gummy vitamins? The only vitamin I take now is vitamin D, which isn't a gummy. Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? Ha, yeah. I gave Jason a makeover once. Who would you like to meet before you die? MARK. I am so determined, alsdjfkaj;wek;rj. I just want to hug him and say thank you and ugly-cry. If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it? No. Even if I had the body of a model. What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The fuckin' flat earth theory, probably. If Heaven and Hell exists, where you going when you die? Well, considering I have an, uh, very negative opinion of the Christian god... Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else? My mom. The day she passes is a day I am inexplicably horrified of. What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday? My life. If there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy? My mom really could use it. Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself? I love "Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse, but idk if it was actually written for the movie. How old was the first person you kissed? He was 18 when we first kissed. Will you be a strict parent one day? I never want to be a parent. If I hypothetically became one, I don't think I'd be strict, necessarily, but very protective. Last person to stand up for you? Probably Mom, idk. Have you been to a baby shower? Yeah, a few. Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My dad. What’s your favorite high school memory? Just... a lot with Jason. Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single? I prefer being in a (healthy) relationship, but I won't get into one just for the sake of having one. What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? Hmmm... scuba-dive, maybe? What subject at school did you absolutely hate? Math. Italian food or Chinese food? Italian. I don't really like (most) Chinese food. Do you like to make flash cards when you study? I rarely did that. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? Yes, somehow. Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No. I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. Ashley. What do you think about Marilyn Manson? He's one of my favorite musical artists, but he's a disgusting dick personally. Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Nothing, really. I was a very well-behaved kid. Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? Yeah, I have a Canon. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? No. Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? Not every year, but most. Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? No. Jalapeños: yay or nay? I loooove them. Did you ever play Minecraft? Nah. My niece is getting into it. Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I did have one. I wasn't one of those premium members or anything like that; I just had a basic account. Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense? Bitch me. It's extremely embarrassing. I 100% got it from my dad. What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you? The manner through which Jason broke up with me. It left me traumatized. What type of person angers you the most? Abusive people that think only they matter and have no consideration for how their actions affect other people. If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it? I'd lose a shitload of weight, for one. My teeth would be whiter, my eyes bigger and bluer, I'd want my hair colored/able to hold color far better, I'd lighten and lessen my body hair, make my skin clearer, thin my eyebrows... I'd change a lot. What are your feelings on feminism? MANDATORY. Absolutely necessary in a misogynistic society. However, I do believe some people take it way too far to a point it is anti-man and puts women on a holy pedestal. It is about equality. Describe your first relationship? Perfect, until it wasn't. Describe your last relationship? Wonderful and healthy, but distance and our health were issues at the time. Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? My history with sex is confusing and complicated and I really don't know. Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply? Thinking about it... it's probably because of how Simba runs from his problems and bad memories, but returns to confront them and is victorious. That's how I want to be. What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I'm nice and clearly sincerely cared about them and their feelings. Do you feel protective over someone? My sisters, nieces and nephews, Sara... What perfume/cologne do you wear? It's called "Blush." Where did your vehicle come from? I don't have my own, but Mom's came from a girl at the dance studio. She ran into a deer, and the front got fucked up, but the sweetheart paid to fix it up to being operable so Mom had her own car. The front bumper is kept intact with zip ties and duct tape, but hey... it works and has for many, many years now, lol. What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? Ummmm... I actually don't remember. What is your favorite way to eat chicken? As tenders, probably. It is your birthday. You hope the cake is: Red velvet. This year for my bday, our controlling-as-fuck family friend bought me my birthday cake without consulting ANYBODY, and I was so fucking annoyed. It was a very kind gesture, yes, but um, can I have a say, please? What do you wear to bed? Usually men's pj pants and a tank top. What were you doing at 8pm last night? Sleeping, actually. I was extremely tired and went to bed early.
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smalltragedy ¡ 3 years
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* brigette lundy-paine, nonbinary + they/them | you know kirby wormwood, right? they’re twenty five, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, two weeks? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ring ring by mika like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole balancing acts at perilous heights destined to entertain, jack of all trades master of none, refusal to accept the mortal world as it is thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is december 1st, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )
hllo welcome 2 my third character i love them a lot theyre a. remake of an older oc of mine so this is fun <3 sdfhk anyways once again i am asking u. pleathe like if u wld like to plot.
ARSON TW
mini playlist.
wizard ;; lucas lex / ring ring ;; mika / crows ;; clues / sunrise sunset ;; bright eyes / la llorona ;; beirut / no children ;; the mountain goats / might be love ;; the pesky snakes / sax in the city ;; let’s eat grandma.
statistics.
full name: kirby wormwood (currently).
nickname(s): magpie.
birthday: december 1st, 1995.
zodiac: sagittarius sun, aries moon, libra ascending.
mbti & temperament: estp & improvisor / sanguine.
label: the hellion.
hometown: abilene, texas.
sexuality: bisexual.
pinterest.
biography.
alright lets get right into it. kirby ws switched at birth. they cld’ve hd a very like. picket fence trampoline in the backyard. 4 columns cos its texas n it feels right. bt instead they were chosen <3 somewhat unintentionally <3 by dorothea n fawley wormwood, two traveling circus workers who emergency stopped in abilene.
n u know what. growing up in st. pierre’s traveling circus ws kinda fkn awesome? like ok. besides the fact tht they were homeschooled fr like evr n there were a sparing amt of children 2 socialize with? it ws p cool idk.
it ws kinda like everybody ws their parent n also not at all bc they were all very casual. bt they grew up learning hw 2 maintain the circus (n also like. normal school thingz bt i dnt think kirby hs ever cared abt school like ever) n whenever they hd a show kirby wld facepaint or handle tickets until they were old enough 2 start learning like. the Real fun things. 
fawley hd a lot of his own weird odd little like superstitions n beliefs n practically raised kirby on them like n they dnt rly <3 make a lot of sense. lots of made up philosophy. very much like. nothing defines u. u cn b anything or anyone. n kirby ws like ok cool. n then developed a god complex.
names didnt rly stick 2 kirby when they were a kid like. nothing satisfied them or felt worthy fr them or simply they just. got tired of a name. this isnt related 2 them being nonbinary BUT it did help ease some of the. pressure of exploring gender identity. theyve only hd one name tht stuck genuinely n tht ws magpie n. thts bc everybody hd their own bird name n it felt very. like community. like a role. usually the names they used during performances bt. anyways KFHDSGLKKHL
theyre Kirby bt answers 2 most. neutral nouns.
honestly. they were also a rascal as a youth. ws like. oh. i learned sleight of hand? cool. time 2 pick pockets. wld throw popcorn into the hair of other kids n b like. omggg what was that ... became a mime fr a year. it ws a rigorous training.
now a master of charades. bt anyways. they traveled pretty much weekly, maybe bimonthly n sometimes just pure monthly. there wsn’t an off season fr them, when the colder months came they’d travel south and when summer rolled in they’d go right back up again. it ws easy to switch personas almost daily n just. never reveal ur true self. totally not saying tht’s what kirby did bt thts what they did. it nvr made them lose sight of themselves it ws more like. acting. tricking ppl fr fun. 
anyways all good things come 2 an end and when kirby ws like. 18. they were like hey ur old enough that we cn trust u with fire. we think. n they started 2 learn fire-throwing n like. they were ok at it bt lessons were painfully slow n kirby ws like. i wld b so good at this if i cld do it all the time. n it ws like. hey kirby, chill. u already know a lot of things.
arson tw // u see where this is going. tents are kind of flammable. kirby ws unsupervised. bad decisions all around. circus is aflame. all the animals n all the circus workers got out fine bt like. st. pierre’s ws efficiently out of business. arson end of tw //
n kirby fkn booked it they just. ran. pure fear. nvr looked back which is like super traitorous of them 2 do bt. sometimes they meet up in secret like. sunglasses n all at a coffee shop. not all of them just like. fawley or someone else. theyre like. ur family u cld burn down a thousand circuses n we’d still love u. n kirby is like yeah i know bt i’ve rly committed to the bit now. n they dnt reunite.
anyways. since then kirby hs just been. a traveler. nvr rly staying anywhere fr super long n driving around in their shitty little van tht’d been used as housing back at st. pierre’s.
they’re in irving n theyve been there fr almost. suspiciously long. compared 2 their average stays. when asked abt what they do or why theyre there theyll just. give a vague answer or spin a long tale tht usually involves a burning circus.
theyre staying at uh. abernathy creek rn bc of course they r they fit in so naturally. welcomed with wide arms. might b soul searching rn might b on the hunt fr their birth parents might b just vibing ... whose to say ..
personality & facts.
has a Big personality tht attracts others fr better or fr worse. either super likeable or the most despicable person on the earth. no in betweens. n honestly tht is a talent in itself
has no off button is constantly. spinning tales or performing a dance or getting kicked out of bars fr whatever nonsense reason. 
honestly they prob think tht nothing bad cn ever happen to them even tho like. bad has literally happened 2 them before? love the optimism here. KLFGDLKFSDHGF
acts a bit like u’ve known them fr ur entire life they r oddly warm in tht way bt they themself r so distant tht its like. oh nice ok ...
both honest n yet dishonest like. yes they will hustle u out of ur money bt they will also tell u their opinion straight up. 
probably smart bt they r just like. prime thembo? flowy pirate shirts n cropped tshirts n pants tht r never tight. dresses like they do still work n live at a circus. 
likes 2 instigate things between others n then stand back n just watch it happen while taking like zero accountability. loves a good small town drama. avid milf hunter.
does not hv any faith in the american healthcare system at all n will straight up refuse 2 go 2 a hospital if they get hurt theyre like. i cn do it myself im like practically a professional. they r not a professional. 
bt does hv like. a thing abt apples. fkn loves them. 
uuuhhh cn play instruments bt all very badly. only knows one (1) song tht isnt made up n its wonderwall by oasis. they play it at parties. they expect fr tomatoes to b thrown at them at any given time.
very nimble. agile. granted its frm. learning circus tricks frm a baby age bt they hv impeccable balance n cn sneak up behind anyone without a single noise. uses this 2 their advantage in order 2 scare ppl. chaotic neutral.
loves having the attention on them i wont fk around here. will go to drastic measures to accomplish receiving it. my other muses r capable of taking things srsly bt kirby just. is not. they do not take a single thing srsly they barely even took. st. pierre’s destruction srsly n they caused it. maybe.
likes being able to just. be unknown so the amt tht ppl know abt them is actually very. little. i dnt think they even tell others their last name. sometimes not even their first. just hs so many aliases n nicknames. i know i didnt list any bt thts simply bc Any cld.
probably acts out to compensate fr the. underlying guilt they hv bt thts okay. i mean it isnt bt.
will probably show up if u call them fr help bt they lose interest in people p quickly n r always moving onto the next shiniest person. bt when they do they give them like. all their attention. if u wrong them in this period they will just. ignore it. bt when theyre bored then its like. u werent even friends at all? very odd.
perhaps it is commitment issues bt <3 ya. thts them. they do not claim favorite colors or movies or. most interests. probably bc theyre very very disconnected frm pop culture i think they learn everything thru twitter n google.
i wld not call them a good person bt i also dnt think theyre like evil horrible nasty awful they just. think abt themself a lot more than they think abt others n also refuses to face consequences ever and also .. anyways.
wanted plots.
part of the bird’s nest ;; honorary bird honorary circus member. u hv to be very well regarded by kirby to earn a bird name bt i feel like tht doesnt feel like a lot considering theyve only been here fr like. two weeks KDGDSHKGK. the catch is tht u cn only refer 2 them as magpie frm then forward. 
hand in unlovable hand ;; theres comfort in being terrible ppl together n it may not last bt it doesnt hv to anyways. its just them n the like. vibes. n knowing tht its smth thts nvr gna b long term. cld b anything ur character just hs to be also a little evil. KHDSGFDS
one jester ... wht abt ... TWO jesters .. ;; hoo boy. ooh man. unstoppable force and immovable object combine forces n just become. the worst of the worst. ultimate jokesters. epic pranksters. absolute clowns. chaotic energy unmatched. always nonsense. 
n also ;; ppl they’ve stolen frm, ppl who hv caught them in that act, ppl who’ve maybe seen them in the circus a very long time ago, Found Family Trope, real family shenanigans, kirby just asking everybody if theyre their dad., mortal enemies if they see each other its an instant duel 2 the death, etc.
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junghelioseok ¡ 5 years
Text
pronoia.
↳ you can definitively say that you did not sign up for this.
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◇ namjoon x reader ◇ zombie apocalypse!au | college!au ◇ 15k [1/1]
notes: a very late birthday present for @imaginationofacrazyfangirl, who i kind of like for some reason. 
⇢ pronoia (n): a state of mind that is the opposite of paranoia. a suspicion that the universe is conspiring in your favor.
warnings: some violence obviously. some gore. mostly just me trying to be funny. irreverent humor, zombieland jokes, and a couple bad philosophy references bc idk what i’m talking about. exactly one (1) brooklyn 99 joke. yoongi is lowkey a badass bc u cannot convince me his crafty, conniving ass wouldn’t be good in this kind of situation. jk’s ready to risk it all for a twinkie. tbh this is kind of a mess and the ending might be rushed but i still worked really hard on it so please leave feedback sndfjfkjsksds 🙈
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It’s too quiet.
Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, the dull hum fading into the background as water starts dripping somewhere to your left. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically against your ribcage as you suck in a deep breath and tighten your grip on your baseball bat.
It’s hard to believe that just three days ago, you were a regular college student. Three days ago, your biggest concerns were finding a decently paid summer job and getting through your last philosophy lecture without daydreaming about the cute teaching assistant bending you over his desk. But now, sandwiched between two rows in the back of your university’s biggest auditorium, you have several new concerns. Bigger concerns.
And first and foremost among them, are the zombies.
To be honest, you still aren’t entirely sure how it happened. The last emergency alert had killed your phone’s battery for good, and you’d only just managed to catch a glimpse of the words “mutated virus” and “nationwide epidemic” before the screen faded to black. And a good thing too—the undead guy trying to sneak up on you from behind definitely would have gotten you had you not seen his reflection in your now-useless hunk of metal and glass.
Thank god for the softball unit in high school gym class, you think to yourself, trying in vain to wipe the blood and brain matter off of your bat. Sure, you didn’t think you’d be utilizing those skills to kill zombies, but at this new low point in your life, anything that aids your survival is a home run in your book.
Deeming your weapon sufficiently clean, you tuck it back into a makeshift sling you’d fashioned out of an old scarf, adjusting it so that it lays flat against your spine. With both hands now free, you begin inching toward the back exit. There’s a growing ache in your bladder that you can no longer ignore, and you send a quick prayer up to any gods that may exist before cracking the auditorium door open, glancing left and right down the seemingly empty hallway. Silently, you count to ten.
After a few more moments of deliberation, you decide the coast is clear. The restrooms are at the very end of the hall, and you can’t help but feel like the little gendered stick figures are taunting you as you cautiously make your way toward them, your shoes silent against the linoleum floor.
You are approximately fifteen feet away from your destination when you hear footsteps. Your heart kicks into overdrive at the unsteady rhythm—a short tap followed by a long dragging sound, as if the approaching individual were limping. For a moment, you debate running for the nearest bathroom and barricading yourself inside, but enclosed spaces are a bad idea according to every zombie movie you’ve ever seen, and you aren’t particularly keen on the idea of becoming zombie food.
Instead, you steel yourself and turn around, pulling out your bat. The approaching zombie doesn’t look like a student—in fact, you’re pretty sure he was your trigonometry teacher for a semester during freshman year—but that’s hardly important right now.
What is important, however, is the black-and-white figure that’s just rounded the corner behind the limping math professor-turned-zombie. And it’s running toward you—fast. Far faster than any of the undead beings you’ve seen, and, upon closer inspection, faster than most of the human beings you know.
And that can only mean one thing.
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, half in surprise and half in horror as the dark-haired track star pulls even with your former professor and swings at his head, using all of his momentum and landing a solid crack. The zombie crumples to the linoleum floor, blood and viscera seeping from the crack in his skull, and you frown in distaste before looking up at your classmate. “Uh, hi?”
“{Name}?” Jungkook asks in disbelief, skidding to a stop. He’s wearing a single boxing glove on one hand and wielding a smashed wine bottle in the other, and you almost want to laugh at his appearance. After all, you’re about ninety-nine percent sure he was wearing the exact same thing at the last house party you both attended. But now—with a bloodied zombie still twitching at your feet and the imminent threat of even more coming after you—probably isn’t the best time to bring that up.
“It is you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, his eyes widening. “Are you alone?”
You nod. “Yeah. You?”
Jungkook nods back. “Yeah. You’re the first person I’ve come across who hasn’t—well… you know.” He gestures downward vaguely.
“Yeah. I know.”
For a few seconds, the two of you stand in silence, ruminating on how everything managed to change so quickly. Just last week, you and Jungkook were regular college students. He ran track and and co-captained the campus dance crew, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were lab partners, you aren’t sure you ever would have met. But after months of sitting together in class, equally stumped by the biology textbooks you were forced to buy and elbow-deep in formaldehyde far too often for your liking, you’ve grown to consider him a friend. And right now, you really, really needed a friend.
“Jungkook,” you begin, laying an arm on his shoulder, “I need your help.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he says, shaking his shaggy hair out of his face like a dog and glancing around the hallway. “We should team up. I mean, we’ve been lab partners for months so we already know we work great togethe—“
“We’ve failed almost half of our lab reports, and you nearly set the table on fire last Tuesday,” you cut in. “But that’s not the point. The point is the current state of my bladder and how you can help me with it.”
Jungkook blinks. “Uh.”
“I need to pee,” you clarify.
“And what exactly do you want me to do about that?”
“Come with me,” you reply, grabbing his wrist. Jungkook lets out a protesting grunt when you begin pulling him down the hallway toward the restrooms, struggling even more vigorously when you try to make him follow you inside.
“This is the girl’s bathroom!” he gasps, wrenching out of your grasp.
You stare at him. “The entire city is overrun by zombies and that’s what you’re worried about?”
“It’s weird!” he protests. Nevertheless, he trots in on your heels, peering around curiously as you bang on the wall of the nearest stall in an attempt to draw any lurkers out into the open.
“Check for zombies, idiot,” you instruct when Jungkook gets distracted by his own reflection in the mirror. “I don’t wanna get eaten.”
He huffs but complies nonetheless. Raising his broken wine bottle, he glances into each stall, kicking open the doors with unnecessary force. “Clear,” he reports once he’s checked the last one, offering you a mock salute. The effect is ruined by the bright red boxing glove still on his hand, but you bite back the snide remark on your tongue and instead walk into the nearest stall.
“Plug your ears or something,” you tell him as you lock the door. “I don’t want you listening to me pee.”
“Why the hell would I listen?” Jungkook retorts, sounding thoroughly horrified.
“Some people are into that,” you reply, wagging a finger at him despite the fact that he can’t see you through the closed door. “It’s called urolagnia. Don’t kinkshame.”
“I don’t want to know why you know that,” he grumbles under his breath. “Shut up and pee already. I have to go too.”
“But this is the girls’ room,” you snipe, finishing your business and stepping out to wash your hands. Jungkook takes your place inside the stall while you turn on the sink, eyeing his reflection pointedly in the mirror. “You’re gonna get cooties.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha,” he says dryly. “You’re hilarious.”
And then he’s turning around, flipping you the bird before slamming the metal door in your face.
You shrug, unfazed. “I know I am,” you say, addressing your own reflection in the mirror. “Also, do you by any chance own a car?”
///
“This feels like a bad idea,” Jungkook mutters, eyeing the quiet parking lot. It’s nowhere near full, but there are still several dozen cars scattered around, empty and abandoned with no owners to be found. At the far end lies your prize—a black SUV with tinted windows and a bicycle strapped to the roof. “Should we make a run for it?” Jungkook asks. “I mean, we don’t really have any other options if we wanna make it out of here with our brains intact, and—”
“Hang on a sec,” you interrupt, grabbing his arm. “We can create a diversion first. Give me your wine bottle—I’m gonna throw it.”
Jungkook hugs the glass bottle to his chest, eyes round and expression aghast. “And leave myself defenseless? What do you want me to do, punch the zombies away?”
“That’s literally what you did ten minutes ago,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “Do you have a better idea?”
He pauses for a long moment before a resigned sigh leaves his lips. “Fine. I get to throw it, though.”
“Whatever,” you reply, waving a hand at him. “Knock yourself out. Or them. You should really knock them out, on second thought.”
Jungkook wisely chooses to ignore your rambling, hefting the bottle and testing its weight. Rearing back, he tosses it in a perfect arc, and you watch in fascination as it somersaults through the air before crashing down onto the asphalt in an explosion of shattered glass. “There!” you hiss urgently, tugging on Jungkook’s sleeve when a zombie immediately lumbers out from behind a nearby sedan, searching for the source of the noise. “We run on three, got it?”
“Got it,” he whispers back, watching raptly as several more zombies follow the first. “One…”
“Two…”
“Three!”
Together, you make a mad dash for the SUV. Jungkook gets there first, skidding to a stop and trying the driver’s side door only to find it locked. “I’ll check the other side,” you tell him, glancing around to make sure the zombies are still distracted. “Work on breaking a window or something, fast!”
The sound of a throat being cleared stops you dead in your tracks. “You’ll do no such thing,” a low voice drawls. A moment later, the platinum blond head of Min Yoongi—a reclusive senior you only know because he deejays at your favorite club every Friday night— pops out from behind the hood of the car, his dark eyes narrowed at you accusingly. “We got dibs on this one.”
“Yoongi?” you ask in surprise. “What are you—wait. We? Who’s we?”
“I’m we,” a new voice announces—one that you’re very, very familiar with. Kim Namjoon steps into view behind Yoongi, and you aren’t sure whether to be horrified or thrilled to see your philosophy TA alive and well, with what looks like a metal fence pole perched on his shoulder like a bayonet. “Hey, {Name},” Namjoon says, offering you a small smile. “Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”
“N-Namjoon,” you stammer, your heart skipping a beat and racing to catch back up. “You’re… okay.”
“More or less,” the tall man replies agreeably, shrugging. Then he glances toward his blond companion, raising a quizzical brow. “Come on, Yoongi. We’ve got room for two more, don’t we?”
Yoongi grumbles something under his breath that sounds like acquiescence, and Namjoon grins, patting him on the back. “Welcome aboard,” he says, turning back to face you and Jungkook. “We’ve got to move fast. You’re Jeon Jungkook, right? I’ve seen you around the track field. Can you do me a favor and watch my back while I open this door?”
Jungkook nods, accepting Namjoon’s brief handshake and the metal pole he hands over. Namjoon then pulls a wire coat hanger out of his jacket pocket, and you watch, awestruck, as he jimmies the car door open.
“There aren’t any keys,” Jungkook points out, peering over the taller man’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the ignition. “Now what? Does anyone know how to hotwire a car?”
“Yes,” Namjoon and Yoongi say simultaneously.
“Well, only in theory,” Namjoon adds when Yoongi rolls his eyes and brushes past him to duck underneath the steering wheel. “Yoongi’s the real expert here.”
“That makes me sound like a criminal,” the blond man grumbles as he sets his toolbox on the ground and gets to work. “For the record, I only know how to do this because of all the times my keys have gone missing. I’m not the fucking Pontiac Bandit.”
“Sounds exactly like what the fucking Pontiac Bandit would say,” you and Jungkook say at the same time, high-fiving each other.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “This isn’t even a Pontiac,” he grumbles, hissing through his teeth as he pulls a few wires free and begins fiddling with them. “Quit watching me and make yourselves useful. Go check the trunk for supplies, or something. Christ.”
Namjoon hums thoughtfully, eyeing the surrounding cars. “That’s actually a good idea. There might be something useful in some of these other cars too. {Name}, why don’t you come with me? Jungkook should probably stay here and keep watch.”
Your mouth goes dry at his suggestion, but you nod hurriedly before your brain can short-circuit at the sound of your name leaving his lips so casually. “That… yeah. That sounds good. Let’s do that.”
“Good luck!” Jungkook calls cheerily as you walk off, earning himself a hard kick in the shins from Yoongi, who’s still flat on his back on the floor of the car.
“Dude, shut the fuck up! Do you want to die?”
Jungkook looks properly abashed. “Right,” he says, lowering his voice. “My bad.”
To your left, Namjoon muffles his laugh behind his hand. Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, and you grin, waving at the two before departing with Namjoon. Together, you wander deeper back into the maze of abandoned vehicles scattered around the lot, peering inside for anything that might be useful. Stopping at a sedan with open windows, you slip a hand inside and unlock the door. There’s an unopened bottle of soda in the cupholder, and Namjoon smiles as he reaches into the backseat and pulls out a few grocery bags.
“Try popping the trunk,” he suggests.
“On it,” you reply, searching for the right button. Namjoon walks around back to open the lid, grinning triumphantly when he sees what’s inside.
“More groceries,” he says, hefting another bag. “And half a case of bottled water. This should be enough to get us started.” Beckoning for you to join him, he hands over the three bags before hefting the case of water over one shoulder. “You okay? I can take a bag if you want.”
You shake your head, threading your baseball bat through the handles of each bag and hefting it onto your shoulder. “I’m fine. Thanks, though,” you tell him, trying to ignore the way your heart rate picks up when he gives you a look of approval, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth and dimpling his cheeks.
“So,” you begin as the two of you start trekking back toward the SUV, “where are we headed, anyway? It seems like you and Yoongi have a plan.”
Namjoon nods. “We do. There’s a reported quarantine zone up north—it’s all over Twitter.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out his cellphone, along with a massive battery pack. “I’ve been conserving my phone battery as much as I can, keeping track of any news, and I think it’s our best bet.”
“Smart.” Ruefully, you pull out your own device and show him the black screen. “My phone died ages ago.”
“You still might be able to charge it,” Namjoon points out. “The electrical grids haven’t gone down yet. And I know Yoongi’s got a cord back at the car, so we can charge our devices on the road too. He’s got all sorts of stuff—this battery pack is his, actually. I couldn’t find mine.”
“Of course you couldn’t,” you mutter, thinking back to every time he’s misplaced his laser pointer or lecture notes during class.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you say quickly. Off in the distance, you spot a few zombies shambling along, no doubt searching for their next meal. Silently, you and Namjoon begin walking faster.
Yoongi and Jungkook are both seated inside the car by the time you return. Jungkook hops out to help you load the bags, and you shoot him a grateful grin as you climb into the backseat alongside him. Namjoon takes the passenger seat, kindly plugging in your phone while Yoongi adjusts his mirrors with a frown. “The engine’s gonna draw their attention,” he says. “They probably won’t be able to get us in the car, but hang onto your weapons just in case.” Then he pauses, glancing back at the metal pole in Jungkook’s hands and the wooden bat in yours. “Well. We’ll need to make a stop and get actual weapons.”
“We can try the police station,” Namjoon suggests. “I’m sure others will have had the same idea, but it’s really our only option. Then we’ll have to load up on food, water, and gas.”
Curiously, you peer into the grocery bags sitting on the floor between you and Jungkook. “Most of this stuff’s perishable. We’ll need to get non-perishable stuff if we’re going to be on the road for a long time. How far did you say that quarantined zone is, Namjoon?”
“I didn’t. I’m not actually one-hundred percent sure myself. Social media is a mess, as you might imagine.” Turning around in his seat, Namjoon shows you his Twitter feed—conflicting news alerts interspersed with grisly photos of the destroyed city and panicked requests for aid. “The last emergency alert said that the military base just outside of city limits is safe, but I’m not so sure.” He scrolls down, revealing several videos of zombies staggering around a helicopter, and upon closer inspection, you realize that they’re in full military garb. Horrified, you take his phone to get a closer look, thumbing down the page to reveal even more atrocities.
“Shit,” Jungkook breathes, sidling over to look over your shoulder. “That’s not good.”
Yoongi sighs, eyeing both of you in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, no kidding. The only thing we’re sure about so far is that the infection started in the south, so heading north is our best bet. And hopefully, we’ll find—”
THWUMP!
Namjoon’s phone clatters out of your hands as the parked car suddenly tilts, swaying dangerously to the left before all four wheels return to the asphalt once more. Horrified, you stare at the huddled horde of zombies that has suddenly appeared at your window, bloodstained hands trying in vain to reach you through the glass. “Yoongi, I think you need to drive now!” you shout, wincing as they begin thumping on the window in earnest.
The blond man curses when the car rocks again, his eyes flickering between the dashboard and the zombies swarming on Namjoon’s side of the car. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfu—HA!”
The engine roars to life, and you watch as the zombies closest to you flinch at the sudden noise before renewing their efforts, banging on the window until spiderwebbing cracks begin to form.
“Dude, floor it!” Jungkook yells.
Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. The car lurches forward, tires squealing, and you yelp as you’re slammed back against the seat. Instinctively, you fumble for your seat belt, ignoring the stunned look Jungkook shoots you in favor of buckling yourself in and watching the undead horde recede in the distance as you pull farther and farther away. “Holy shit,” you mutter, your head falling back against the backrest, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Holy fucking shit.”
Yoongi huffs out a sardonic chuckle as he slows ever so slightly to turn onto the main road. “Yeah. Welcome to the apocalypse.”
///
It’s odd, seeing the city you know and love in ruins. Billowing black smoke rises in the distance, filling the air with an acrid stench and a metallic tinge that you don’t want to think about. The roar of the SUV’s engine sounds like a siren’s song in the eerie silence of the streets, drawing unwanted attention from the undead. Everywhere you look, soulless eyes follow. Some zombies even try to chase the car, but they are quickly left behind as Yoongi slams down on the gas pedal, weaving past overturned vehicles and prone bodies.
You don’t wait to see if any of the bodies will rise up again.
Namjoon begins fiddling with the radio as Yoongi turns down yet another street, heading downtown. Static blares from the speakers, and you watch his frown get deeper the further along he scrolls through the stations. “Nothing,” he mutters after a few long minutes. “That’s not a good sign. The infrastructure is crumbling.”
Jungkook tears his gaze from the window. “What do you mean?”
Namjoon switches off the radio, letting silence envelop the car for a few seconds before speaking again. “I mean everything that sustains our way of life—the things we take for granted most days, like running water and electricity and the internet. We aren’t going to have them for much longer. Without workers to run things, we…” He sighs. “I figure we have maybe a week, at the most.”
“And then what happens?” you ask, your voice soft.
“I don’t know,” Namjoon admits. “To be honest, we might not even survive long enough to find out.”
“But we have to try,” you murmur. “Sure, we’re outnumbered and weaponless, but we have a car. We’re faster and smarter. I don’t think things are hopeless just yet.”
Namjoon shakes his head at your optimism, but Yoongi’s nodding, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t mind him,” he advises. “Joon likes to overthink things and work himself up into a frenzy, but I think we’ve got a chance at making it through. Besides...” He gestures out the window with his thumb. “We won’t be weaponless for much longer.”
The car rolls to a stop in front of a square brick building that you recognize as the police station, the dark windows overlooking the street like gaping mouths. Most of the glass is broken—even on the higher stories—and you shiver at the sight of the jagged edges glinting like teeth in the wan afternoon sun.
“So... getting inside won’t be a problem,” Jungkook says dryly.
“Guess not,” Namjoon says, frowning. “Somebody definitely beat us here. Should we chance it? Everything could already be gone.”
“We’re already here, man,” Yoongi drawls, already beginning to open the door. “We may as well check it out.”
Cautiously, the four of you pile out of the SUV, eyes darting left and right as you make your way toward the front door with Jungkook in the lead. It’s hanging off its hinges and the glass is pocked with bullet holes, and a frown spreads across your face as you trace one lightly with your index finger. “Looks like there was a fight,” you murmur quietly to Namjoon, who’s standing just behind you with a rather large rock that he must have just picked up from outside. Yoongi takes up the rear with a hammer grasped tightly in his hand, and you bite back the Thor joke that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here anymore, though,” Jungkook says, winding his way farther into the lobby. “Think these elevators still work?” he asks, gesturing at the twin metal doors on the far wall.
“Not worth the risk,” Namjoon decides, walking over to the stairwell and opening the door. He peers inside before gesturing for you to enter, allowing everyone to step past him before quietly shutting the door and eyeing the two sets of stairs branching out from the landing. “We’re looking for the station’s armory,” he whispers. “What do you guys think? Up or down?”
“We could split u—” Jungkook begins to suggest, but you cut him off before he can even finish the sentence.
“And get killed off one by one like in every horror movie ever? Are you serious, Jeon?”
Jungkook blinks. “Fine. What do you think, then?”
“I think the parking garage is probably downstairs,” you muse, peering over the railing to look at the lower landing. “And it doesn’t look like there’s another level below that, so I’d say going up is our best bet.”
A smile curls the corner of Namjoon’s mouth, dimpling one cheek as he follows your lead and glances downstairs. “Nice observation,” he says once he’s straightened up again, laying a hand on your shoulder. The gentle pressure sends a shiver up your spine, a butterfly taking flight in your stomach on fluttering, iridescent wings. It’s all you can do to smile back, thanking him softly as he retracts his hand. Already, you miss the warmth of his palm.
“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, effectively ruining the moment as he begins the ascent with his pole at the ready. Yoongi follows, and Namjoon gestures for you to go ahead of him, tucking his rock under one arm.
“It’s not the best weapon,” he says when he catches you looking, a rueful chuckle escaping him.
You grin back. “Better than nothing.”
Up ahead, Jungkook stops on the second floor landing, pressing his ear against the door. “I can’t hear anything,” he grumbles, fumbling for the doorknob and cracking the door open. “But it looks like the coast is cle— oh, shit!” Jungkook pulls the door shut again, his eyes wide.
“What happened?” Yoongi hisses. “What did you see?”
“There’s a bunch of them in the corner,” Jungkook whispers. “They’re… eating something.”
“Someone,” Yoongi corrects wryly, earning himself an elbow in the ribs courtesy of Namjoon. “Sorry,” he mutters, not sounding very sorry at all.
“How many are there?” Namjoon asks.
Jungkook pauses, casting his gaze upward as he does a mental tally. “At least seven or eight that I saw. There could be more though.”
“Did you see anything that could’ve been an armory? Some place where weapons would be stored?” Namjoon presses.
“Nah. Looked like a bunch of desks, mostly. Offices and whatnot.”
Namjoon nods slowly, tapping his chin. “Okay,” he says after a few seconds of deliberation. “Let’s keep going.” He takes the lead this time, stepping past Jungkook to the next staircase, and you follow after him, struggling to keep up when he elects to take the steps two at a time. His long legs span the increased distance with ease, and it takes every ounce of self-control you possess to refrain from staring at his flexing thigh muscles.
One flight of stairs and several instances of shameless ogling later, you find yourselves on the third floor, tiptoeing through a darkened hallway lined with doors and peering inside one by one.
“These all look like interrogation rooms,” Yoongi grumbles after a few fruitless minutes.
“Nope, this one’s a closet,” Jungkook pipes up, walking inside and exiting with a mop. The door slams shut behind him, and he winces under the absolutely withering glare Namjoon shoots at him. “My bad,” he whispers, offering the taller man the mop. “But on the bright side, I think this might be a better weapon than a rock.”
Namjoon sighs and accepts the mop. “Fine. Let’s make the rest of this search quick though. And be quiet,” he adds, with a pointed look at Jungkook. “We might be close to where the weapons are kept now, since we’ve left the administrative areas behind.”
And as it turns out, he’s right. The very next door you open is a room with a multitude of industrial shelves and racks lining the walls. Much to your disappointment, most of them are empty, but a more thorough search turns up a couple of handguns along with several cases of ammunition. Jungkook finds a stockpile of smoke grenades that he refuses to part with, and you roll your eyes as he shoves them into his pockets. “What the hell are smoke grenades going to do against zombies?”
“You never know,” Jungkook retorts. “Besides, I don’t see anything else in here. Do you?”
Dejected, you shake your head. “No, I don’t. Guess Namjoon was right—someone had the same idea as us.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Namjoon says, picking up one of the guns and peering closely at it. “Who here knows how to handle a firearm?”
Yoongi grunts. “My uncle used to take us hunting on camping trips. I’m not a great shot, but I’m all right.”
Namjoon glances over at you Jungkook. “What about you guys? No?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Do shooting games count?”
“No.”
“Okay, then no.”
Namjoon sighs and hands the other gun to Yoongi, who accepts it and checks the safety before tucking it safely into his belt. You watch as Namjoon checks his own gun, unloading the magazine and inserting a new one. “I take it you know a thing or two about guns,” you remark, inching closer to him as he engages the safety with deft fingers.
“My grandfather was a cop,” he replies softly. “He taught me a lot before he passed away.”
You bite your lip as his brow furrows, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs, his gaze sliding up to meet yours. “It’s alright. It happened years ago.” Then he glances down at your hand, his expression softening just the tiniest bit. “But I appreciate it. Thanks.”
The next few minutes pass in silence as the four of you complete your sweep of the room, peering at the bottommost shelves for any equipment you might have missed. “Hey,” Yoongi says suddenly, his voice hushed. “Hand me your bat, {Name}.”
Both you and Namjoon turn to face him. “Why?” you ask curiously, handing it over and watching as he lays it on the table and pulls his hammer from his waistband.
“Nails,” he says shortly. “Found some in that drawer and figured I’d make you a proper apocalypse weapon.”
“Wait,” Namjoon interrupts, striding over as Yoongi begins hammering nails into your wooden bat. “You’re making too much noise. Someone’s going to hear us.”
“Uh, it’s kinda already too late for that,” Jungkook hisses from the entrance. He’s peering through a little square window that sits about two-thirds of the way up the door, and flinches when a bloody, pale fist slams against it, splintering the glass. “We’ve got company, guys,” he grunts, pressing his full weight against the door and wincing as the glass shatters over his head. “Anyone got any bright ideas to get us out of here in one piece?”
“No,” Namjoon says slowly. “Unless…”
“Unless?” you press.
“We need a diversion,” he says, shaking his head. “But I don’t see how we’ll create one unless… well, unless one of us goes out there and leads them away from here. But that’s asking way too much, and—“
“I’ll do it.”
All three of you whirl around to face Yoongi, who looks thoroughly unfazed by the sudden scrutiny, picking idly at a frayed corner on his jacket. “You can’t be serious,” Namjoon says, finding his voice first. “It’s dangerous.”
“So is staying here,” Yoongi replies. “Besides, aren’t you always going on about the greater good? Altruism and Comte and all that shit? Let me do this, man. I can handle it.”
“That’s not—” Namjoon stops, rubbing the bridge of his nose and letting out a heavy sigh. “That’s not the point. It’s just not practical, Yoongi. You’ll be vulnerable if you’re alone.”
“No, I’ll be fast,” Yoongi corrects, pulling out his gun and clicking off the safety. “You think we’ll do any better as groups of two? I don’t.”
“But—“ Namjoon tries again, his brow creasing, but Yoongi shakes his head and strides to the door.
“I’m gonna go left,” he says, his hand on the handle. “We came from the right, so you guys should be able to retrace our steps and get out.”
Jungkook stops him before he can exit, pressing a handful of smoke grenades into his palm. “Hang on,” he says, his throat tight. “You might need these.”
Yoongi pockets them, nodding. “Thanks, man.”
Namjoon looks like he wants to argue some more, but finally bites his lip and nods, his face resolute. “Good luck,” he says after a long, heavy pause. “Stay safe.”
Yoongi flashes you all a crooked grin. “See you soon.”
And then he’s flinging open the door, swinging his hammer into one zombie’s skull and kicking another in the knees. Namjoon stays in the doorway, shooting any and every zombie that he can see through the smashed window. You can just barely hear Yoongi jeering insults over the sound of gunfire and stumbling footsteps, the occasional thud of something heavy against the linoleum floor letting you know that Namjoon has successfully found his mark.
After what feels like an eternity, Namjoon finally pulls back from the window and turns back to you and Jungkook. “Coast is clear,” he whispers. “Let’s go.”
“And Yoongi?” you ask, anxiety roiling in your gut at the thought of the blond man facing the horde of undead alone.
“He’ll be fine,” Namjoon says automatically, and you know he’s trying to convince himself just as much as he’s reassuring you. His grip is tight on his gun as he wrenches open the door and ushers the two of you out into the hallway, and even in the dimness you see the worried glance he shoots over his shoulder, lingering on the corner that Yoongi has disappeared around.
“Come on, Joon,” you murmur, nudging his arm gently. “Yoongi’s gonna beat us back to the car at the rate we’re going.”
That draws a soft chuckle from your companion. “You’re right,” he murmurs back. “Let’s go.”
///
As it turns out, however, Yoongi does not beat you back to the SUV. The blond-haired man is nowhere to be found, and you see concern etch itself permanently onto Namjoon’s forehead as he peers around the eerily quiet street. The air feels too still, and every crunch of gravel from underneath your sneakers sounds like a gunshot.
“He’ll be back, right?” Jungkook whispers urgently to you while Namjoon is out of earshot, his doe eyes wide and beseeching. “You don’t think he got…”
He trails off, and you shake your head, unwilling to even think of the possibility that harm has befallen the blond-haired man. “Yoongi’s tough,” you declare. “He’ll be back any minute, and we should be ready to take off when he does. In case, you know, he’s still being chased.”
“Right,” Jungkook says, glancing over at Namjoon, who’s standing closest to the driver’s side and is suddenly beginning to look very sheepish.
“So… I can’t actually drive,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as your jaw drops.
“Wait, you can’t drive? Don’t you live off-campus? How do you get to class?”
Namjoon shrugs. “I usually bike. Sometimes I walk to class, if the weather’s nice.” Then he pauses, dejection settling on his features. “Although I guess I won’t be teaching classes again any time soon.”
Your heart sinks. You know from the syllabus that he handed out on the first day that this was his first semester as a teaching assistant, his passion for philosophy shining through in every lecture he’s given. “You’re a great teacher,” you tell him, intent on cheering him up. “I learned so much from you. I mean, nobody likes moral philosophy, but you somehow managed to even make that interesting, which is pretty damn incredible.”
Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Thanks. You were a pretty damn incredible student, yourself.”
“Why, thank you,” you tell him with a grin.
Beside you, Jungkook rolls his eyes and pretends to retch. “Fine, I guess I’ll drive.” Grumbling, he swings open the driver’s side door and plops down onto the seat, adjusting it for his longer legs. “Now how the hell do I start this thing?”
Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly and tears his gaze away from yours, reaching underneath the steering wheel and pulling out a tangle of wires. You stop listening as he explains to Jungkook how to spark them together and instead turn your gaze back to the looming police station, watching intently for any sign of Yoongi’s return. Crumpled newspapers and stray plastic bags roll by, buoyed by the spring breeze. Across the street, a lone pigeon roams, head bobbing as it searches for crumbs.
“Looking for me?”
You jump, letting out a surprised shriek as Yoongi’s blond head of hair suddenly pops out from behind the trunk. “Jesus Christ, Yoongi, what the hell? Where did you come from?”
“Originally? My mother’s womb,” he replies, shrugging. The movement draws your attention to the sleeves of his jacket, newly tattered and splattered with crimson, and any witty retort you might have had is immediately swallowed up by concern.
“Is that blood? Oh my god, is that your blood?”
Your shout alerts Namjoon and Jungkook, twin looks of concern marring their faces as they clamber out of the SUV and join the two of you. “No, no—I’m not hurt,” Yoongi reassures, dismissing your worries with a wave of his hand. “Things did get a little dicey, but it all worked out in the end.”
“How exactly did you escape?” Namjoon asks.
Yoongi grins crookedly. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
Jungkook blinks. “What?”
“If I couldn’t beat them, I had to join them,” Yoongi elaborates, gesturing to his tattered, dirty clothing. “I stumbled across the evidence room while I was trying to find another way out, and got an idea. This—” he gestures at the red stains splattered across his clothing, “—is actually spray paint. The police must’ve confiscated it from graffiti artists or something. Then all I had to do was rip up my jacket and limp a little and, well, here we are.”
“And that worked?” you ask in disbelief. “You just… pretended to be a zombie and walked out?”
“More or less,” Yoongi says with another shrug. “Now come on, let’s blow this joint. They could find us any second, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really wanna die just yet. Pretending was enough.”
You have about a million more questions, but Yoongi takes his spot in the driver’s seat before you can ask any of them, readjusting the seat and promising an inquisitive Jungkook that he’ll teach him how to drive the hotwired vehicle next time. The rest of you take your seats as the engine roars to life underneath the blond man’s skilled fingertips, and with a squeal of tires against asphalt, you are off once again, heading toward the great unknown.
///
“Wait, wait, no, stop!”
Yoongi slams on the brakes at Jungkook’s shout, the car skidding to an abrupt halt. “What is it?” he demands, his gaze darting around frantically as his fingers reach for his gun. “Is there a problem?”
Jungkook winces. “Sorry. I was talking to Namjoon, actually.”
Yoongi visibly relaxes, shaking his head as he resumes driving. Namjoon glances back at Jungkook, his eyebrows disappearing behind his dark hair in silent inquiry. “Yes?”
“The radio,” Jungkook says, gesturing at the dashboard buttons that Namjoon has been fiddling with incessantly for the last several minutes. “Go back to the last station for a sec.”
Obediently, Namjoon turns the dial. Staticky white noise fills the air, and Jungkook frowns. Then a few jumbled words filter through the static, and he lets out a triumphant shout. “There!”
“Huh,” Namjoon says, leaning closer to the speaker. “I can’t understand a thing they’re saying. We must be out of range.”
“But we must be getting closer—I think I can make out a few words,” Jungkook says. “Everyone shut up and let me listen…” He trails off, and for a few moments, there is only the sound of garbled static and the low whir of the tires against pavement. Then Jungkook flops back against the seat, a pensive frown settling on his face. “Huh.”
You nudge his shoulder. “Well? What did you hear?”
“Not a whole lot,” he admits. “And I can’t be sure that what I heard was right, but… I think the broadcast is coming from Sonyeo City.”
Namjoon purses his lips, his chin jutting out in the way it does whenever he’s deep in thought. “Sonyeo City… that’s about six hours away, isn’t it?”
Yoongi hums. “Yeah, just about.”
“Do you think…” you trail off, hesitant. “Do you think that this means Sonyeo City’s… safe?”
“There’s no way to be sure.” Namjoon casts his gaze out the window, and you get the feeling he’s looking far beyond the crumbling streets and dark buildings, to the horizon where there still may be a glimmer of hope. “But at least we now have a destination in mind.”
The rest of the ride is quiet. Namjoon keeps the radio on just in case another snippet of discernible audio comes through, but none of you manage to catch anything important. Yoongi stops at a gas station to refuel, and a few minutes after that, finally manages to find a grocery store that looks to be mostly intact and devoid of any immediate threats.
“Let’s get this bread,” Jungkook proclaims as he slides out of the backseat, walking toward the entrance of the store. “And by bread, I mean Twinkies.”
You gape at his retreating back. “Is that a Zombieland reference?”
“Maybe,” he replies, shooting you a playful grin over his shoulder.
Shaking your head, you follow him through the automatic doors and glance around the interior of the store. Row after row of shelves take up the majority of the room, with an open space on the far right for fresh produce and glass-paneled refrigerators lining the wall. Behind you, the doors slide open again with a whoosh, and you turn to meet Namjoon’s eyes as he steps inside with Yoongi. “We should lock the doors,” you point out.
“You’re right,” Namjoon agrees, inspecting the metal frame surrounding the glass.
“Hang on,” Jungkook interrupts, eyes wide as he watches Namjoon fumble with the mechanism. “Are you locking us in?”
“For the time being,” Namjoon says absentmindedly, still focused on the door.
You walk over to Jungkook and pat his cheek. “He’s not locking us in; he’s locking them out. Or would you rather have a horde of zombies stumble in while we’re grabbing supplies?”
“... fair point.”
“Exactly.”
Yoongi, meanwhile, is gazing around the store, leery as always. “Hello?” he calls, his voice cutting through the silence. “Anyone home?”
Not even two seconds later, a shambling, shuffling figure emerges from a far aisle, moving surprisingly quickly despite its odd, lopsided gait. Two more follow, and Yoongi raises his gun, clicking off the safety and narrowing his eyes.
Toward the other end of the store, you spot another zombie dragging itself along the floor, leaving a trail of streaky, bloody handprints in its wake. Three more shuffle out from behind a display of watermelons, heading toward you, and you tighten your grip on your nail-studded bat as they draw ever closer.
Shots ring out behind you, but you don’t chance a glance backward. Out of your peripheral vision you spot Jungkook on your left, bringing his metal pole down onto the crawling zombie’s head with a sickening crunch. Leaping into action, you swing at the closest zombie’s head. It was once a woman, you notice—long stringy hair falling around her decaying face, the bottom half of her jaw visible through the peeling skin. “Sorry about this,” you say, wincing as your bat makes impact. The nails catch in her skin, her neck cracking under the force of the blow, and you yelp as she falls over and the other two zombies take her place.
“Watch out!”
Namjoon’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you, and you instinctively duck as he sprints over and shoots one point blank. Jungkook takes out the other, driving the pole through its chest before pulling it out and smashing it over the zombie’s head. “Are there more?” he asks, slightly out of breath.
“Not sure,” Yoongi says, rejoining you. “I would think most of the lurkers were drawn out by all the noise.”
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Namjoon says. Walking over to a checkout lane, he grabs a pile of plastic bags and an abandoned cart. “Let’s stay together and take the aisles one at a time. We’ll take as much as we can carry.”
“Don’t forget bottled water,” you pipe up, pointing at the stack of water bottles piled next to the door. “We’ve already drank most of what we have. And if we’re getting canned food, we’ll need a can opener too.”
Namjoon follows the direction of your finger. “Good call.”
“I’ll get it,” Jungkook volunteers, jogging over to select a twenty-four pack of bottles and heaving it into the cart. “Now what?”
“Let’s grab the can opener first,” you say. “Maybe some other utensils too. Sound good?”
Namjoon nods. “Sounds great,” he says, handing you one of the bags. Jungkook and Yoongi accept the other bags that Namjoon doles out, and together the four of you head farther into the store, scanning the signs until you come across the one labeled household goods. It’s clear that others have been here before you, but a quick raid of the shelves yields two can openers and a set of silverware, all of which you deposit into your bag. Namjoon grabs four unbroken bowls, mismatched and in varying sizes, and you hold out your bag for him to drop them inside.
Next up is the canned food aisle, where you stock up on various vegetables and far more beans than you care to think about. Jungkook grabs a box of instant coffee, and Yoongi disappears for a few seconds and returns with a massive jar of vitamin supplements. “Gotta stay healthy,” he says in response to your raised eyebrows, adding it to the growing pile in Namjoon’s cart.
“Speaking of healthy, we should grab some produce,” you say. “It won’t stay good forever, but we can at least get some apples and oranges. And we should probably grab some stuff for dinner too. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.”
As if on cue, Namjoon’s stomach rumbles. “Dinner would be nice,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Let’s finish up here and then eat in the car. We probably don’t want to stick around here for much longer than we have to.”
After some discussion, the four of you decide on sandwiches for dinner and set about gathering the necessary ingredients. Yoongi wanders to the deli area to pick out a selection of meats that haven’t yet spoiled, and even manages to locate some cheese. You peruse the produce, selecting a head of lettuce and several ripe tomatoes while Namjoon fills a bag with apples and grabs a bunch of bananas. Jungkook raids the bread display, shoving two whole loaves and a box of dinner rolls into his bag. Several bags of chips and a pack of juice boxes later, you are ready to go, heading back out into the parking lot where the SUV is parked.
“Wait!” Jungkook suddenly yelps, stopping dead in the middle of loading the trunk. “I forgot my Twinkies!”
“Are you serious right now, Jeon?” you hiss, watching in disbelief as he hurriedly drops his bags and turns back toward the entrance.
“Yes,” he says stubbornly, already beginning to jog away.
Yoongi groans and flops down into the driver’s seat. “Sartre was right,” he grumbles under his breath. “Hell is other people.”
Namjoon gives him an astonished look, mouth already open and ready to question what exactly his friend knew about the French existentialist philosopher, but quickly snaps back to the issue at hand when you abandon your own bags and dart after Jungkook. Immediately, Namjoon follows, nearly tripping in his efforts to keep up with you, and you whirl in concern when he lets out a sudden, startled shout. “What is it?”
Namjoon grimaces, brushing a stray lock of dark hair off his forehead. “Sorry, it’s just—holy shit!”
A skeletal, gaunt hand is grasping at Namjoon’s ankle, and you gasp when you realize that it belongs to the female zombie from before, her milky eyes gazing unseeingly out from beneath stringy hair. Cursing, Namjoon shakes her off and fumbles for his gun. Pointing it down, he aims and pulls the trigger.
Click.
“I’m out of bullets,” he whispers in dawning horror.
You reach for your trusty bat, tucked away in its sling on your back, but the handle keeps evading your grasping fingers, the nails catching in the fabric. Your palms begin to sweat as Namjoon kicks at the zombie, stomping on her arm and cracking all the bones. He’s glancing around frantically for something he can use as a weapon, but to no avail. And all the while, the undead woman continues her dogged pursuit, crawling after him with one good arm like a lopsided cockroach, teeth gnashing furiously in anticipation of her next meal.
“NOT TODAY, MOTHERFUCKER!”
Jungkook barges onto the scene with his metal pole in hand, glinting dull silver in the flickering fluorescent lights. He smashes the zombie over the head once, twice, three times before relenting, his chest heaving with exertion. Namjoon sucks in a deep breath when she finally falls limp, reaching out to clap Jungkook on the back. “Wow,” he says shakily. “Thanks, man. That was a close call.”
Jungkook straightens up and hefts his weapon over his shoulder. “And that’s why we have rule number two here in Zombieland,” he says proudly.
Namjoon asks the question before you even have a chance to stop him. “What’s rule two?”
Jungkook grins a grin so wide, you’re surprised his mouth doesn’t fall off altogether. “The Double Tap, of course.” Then his gaze flickers downward, to where a familiar blue-and-white box lies crumpled against the linoleum. “Oh, no. My Twinkies!”
You sigh.
///
Dinner—if it can even be called that—is a quick affair, eaten while huddled in the SUV and parked in an alley. The sun is setting rapidly, dipping beyond the horizon and bathing the surrounding buildings in a fiery orange glow. It’s been mercifully quiet for the past half hour, broken only by the occasional crunch of a chip or a slurp from a juice box.
Yoongi starts driving again after he’s polished off the last of his sandwich. Dusky twilight cloaks the city in purple—turning it into something strange and unfamiliar. Normally, the streets would be aglow with lit lamps and illuminated homes, crowded with people returning home after a long day of work or classes. Now, though, the streets are silent and abandoned. The few zombified citizens you pass are quickly left behind, and you know you aren’t imagining the melancholy air that’s settled over your companions, nestling deep into the nooks and crannies of the SUV, stagnant and unshakable. It grows stronger the farther Yoongi drives, the buildings getting shorter and the space between them growing longer, and your heart breaks a little in your chest when you turn for one last look at the city you’ve all come to call home.
You can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you know you won’t ever be coming back.
Namjoon begins fiddling with the radio dials again as Yoongi turns onto the highway, a burst of static breaking the stifling silence in the car. Jungkook startles slightly at the sharp sound, looking up from where he’d been staring out the window. “Is that the station from before?”
Namjoon hums in affirmation, adjusting the volume until the white noise is just a low buzz. Jungkook settles back into his seat, but you can see that he’s listening carefully, his knee bouncing in anticipation.
And then, without any warning whatsoever, a voice comes through the static, clear as day.
Testing, one, two. Is anybody out there?
If you’ve still got a functioning brain and at least one ear, congratulations! another voice chimes in, brighter than the first. You’re listening to 2J! Straight out of Sonyeo City, we’re your premier source of zombie news—
—your only source, really—
—and we’re here to bring you all the latest so that you can stay safe out there, the second voice continues as if there was no interruption at all.
Unfortunately, the first voice says, adopting a more somber tone now, there isn’t a lot of good news. We’re still in the dark about how this epidemic started. Reports claim that it began in a city in the south, which multiple sources have confirmed, but the government has yet to put out an official statement regarding the situation.
They’re being pretty dodgy about the whole thing, to be honest, the second voice continues. The first emergency alert said it was a mutated virus, but the second claimed it was a contaminated water reservoir. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some super-secret experiment gone wrong, Jin.
Honestly, me neither, the man named Jin says. But that’s enough of the conspiracies for now, Jay. Let’s talk survival! First thing you’ll want to do, dear listeners, is head north toward Sonyeo City, where a quarantine zone has been set up.
Jungkook releases a long, pent-up breath. “We were right,” he whispers. “Thank god.”
Namjoon flashes him a little smile and cranks up the volume, listening carefully as Jin’s voice fills the car.
Your best bet is to drive, of course, hop in your car and get going. Stock up on gas and non-perishable food, and some weapons certainly wouldn’t hurt either.
If worst comes to worst and you have to kill a zombie, the best way to do it is to smash its head in, Jay pipes up. You can also break their kneecaps to slow them down, but that won’t kill them for good. They’ll keep coming as long as they can still move—and if they bite you, you’re a goner.
Now onto ways to avoid zombies! Jin says, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. One thing I’ve noticed during my research is how quickly their optic nerves deteriorate once they’re infected. In fact, the rate of deterioration is second only to that of their vocal chords!
And now tell them what that means in plain English, Jay prods, laughing.
Jin chortles. Basically, they have shit eyesight, especially in the dark, he clarifies. If it’s nighttime and you find yourself surrounded somehow, your best bet is to stay quiet and move slowly. If they hear you, well…
You’re a goner, Jay supplies helpfully.
Exactly. Thanks, Jay.
No problem, Jin.
And that brings us to the end of this broadcast, Jin says, clapping his hands. Thanks for tuning in today, and we’ll see you next time.
Until then, this has been 2J. Stay safe out there!
There’s a dull click, and then the static resumes, filling the silence left in the wake of the broadcast. “Well, at least we’re headed in the right direction,” Yoongi says after a few long moments. “It’s a long drive though, and I don’t think I can stay awake for much longer. We might want to start looking for a place to sleep for the night.”
“That’s a good idea,” Namjoon says. “I’m pretty sure we’ve all been running on pure adrenaline up to this point, so we definitely need some rest. We’ll start fresh tomorrow morning.”
Mumbles of agreement all around. Ten minutes later, Jungkook points to a quaint little farmhouse on the right side of the road, the windows dark. “Think anyone’s home?”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Yoongi replies, slowly pulling off the road and into the winding driveway, watching for any movement from the house or the surrounding fields. The hum of the engine doesn’t draw any unwanted attention, and you breathe a tentative sigh of relief as he parks the car beneath a large oak tree. Together, the four of you pile out and approach the house, weapons at the ready.
“Should we knock?” you whisper, looking at the little brass knocker in the middle of the front door. “Ring the doorbell, maybe?”
“Can’t hurt, right?” Jungkook jabs his thumb into the button by the doorknob, listening intently as the bell chimes inside the house. After a few beats of silence, he shrugs. “Guess no one’s home.”
“And the door’s locked,” Yoongi says, trying the knob. “Maybe they’re away on vacation or something.” Wandering over to a nearby window, he jimmies the frame, a wry grin crossing his features when it pops open easily. “They should probably invest in better locks, though.”
One by one, you climb through the window. Namjoon is the last one inside, folding his tall frame through the small space, and as soon as both his feet touch carpet, Yoongi shuts the window again and closes the curtains. “Don’t wanna be seen from the street,” he explains as he pulls out his cell phone and taps the flashlight button, illuminating the room in harsh white light. Namjoon does the same, as does Jungkook, and you pull your own phone out as well—now fully charged from the long car ride. A quick sweep of the house reveals that it is indeed empty, and Jungkook whoops when his flashlight falls upon a rifle mounted over the fireplace. Further investigation reveals two more pistols in a cabinet, along with ample ammunition, and Yoongi grins as he loads all three guns and hands one over to you.
“You ever shot one of these before?”
The gun is heavy in your palm. Slowly, you shake your head.
Yoongi glances over at Namjoon slyly. “Why don’t you give her a lesson out back, then?”
You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s ears flush pink, his feet scuffing nervously against the carpeted floor before he chances a look at you. The smile that he offers you is warm but hesitant, and when he speaks, his voice is even more so. “Sure,” he says. “I can show you how, if you’d like.”
“I’d really like that,” you tell him, the butterflies erupting in your chest when his smile widens. Together, the two of you head toward the back of the house, taking a detour to the kitchen where Namjoon grabs an armful of empty soda cans. His shoulder brushes against yours as you walk, but neither of you pull away. Even as you step onto the wooden patio that leads into the rest of the yard, you remain side by side, admiring the full moon that hangs bright in the sky, providing just enough illumination to view your surroundings.
“I suppose we should start with the basics,” Namjoon begins, his gaze alighting on a low fence lining the property. Jogging over, he lines the cans up on the wooden beam before returning to your side and gesturing for you to raise the pistol. His fingers skim across yours as he shows you how to disengage the safety, and your heart skips a beat when he explains how to reload once you run out of bullets, his large hands guiding yours through each step.
There’s a damp chill in the evening air, but you don’t even feel it. Namjoon is so close by this point, his chest pressed almost flush against your back as he shows you how to aim. His fingers wrap around your wrist, warm and gentle, and you shiver when he speaks again, his mouth at your ear, his voice rumbling through his chest.
“Ready?”
You nod, almost afraid to breathe as your finger finds the trigger. Namjoon’s grip on your wrist loosens but doesn’t disappear entirely, and you steel yourself for the recoil as you finally pull the trigger. The loud crack has you wincing, but Namjoon is laughing, the sound deep and husky as he urges you to lower the gun.
“Nice shot.”
You turn to look at the fence, now missing one soda can. “Oh, wow,” you breathe. “That was… kind of therapeutic, actually. Can we try again?”
Namjoon grins. “Of course we can.”
///
Ten cans and a box of ammunition later, you and Namjoon find yourselves lounging on the steps of the patio, staring up at the velvety night sky. “I’ve never seen so many stars before,” you murmur, a little awestruck by the sight. “But now that we’re away from the city and all that light pollution… wow. It’s amazing.”
“It’s beautiful,” Namjoon agrees, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long before he collects himself and looks up at the sky once more.
“I wish I knew more constellations,” you say, laughing softly. “I can really only pick out the Big Dipper. And even then, I can only find it about eighty percent of the time.”
“What about the Little Dipper?” Namjoon asks. He scoots a little closer to you, pointing upward. “Do you see that really bright star up above the Big Dipper? That’s Polaris—the north star. It’s the end of the handle.”
You follow the trajectory of his finger curiously, eyes widening when you spot the smaller, but still distinctive, spoon shape. “Oh! Yes, I see it now. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.”
Namjoon chuckles. “I can show you where Orion is too,” he says. “That’s as far as my knowledge of constellations goes, though.”
“You know more than I do,” you reply, smiling up at him. Softly, you lay a hand on his arm. “Thank you for showing me.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, cheeks dimpling as he gazes down at you. This close, you can see all the stars reflected in his irises, his skin glowing silver under the luminescence of the full moon. And in a sudden surge of boldness, you allow your hand to slide down until it’s laying atop his, your fingers settling in the spaces between his own.
Namjoon glances down at your intertwined hands, his lips twitching with a barely restrained smile. “You know,” he murmurs, his breath visible in the chilly air, “I’ve always kind of liked you.”
You blink at the admission. “Really?”
He huffs out a soft chuckle, his chest rumbling with the sound. “It’s crazy, right? But it’s true. Ever since you sat down in the front row on the first day of my class with a bright pink pen and no laptop… do you know how rare it is to see someone take handwritten notes in this day and age?”
Your cheeks heat up. “You noticed that?”
“I did,” he replies, taking your hand in his and twining your fingers together properly. “Do you remember that essay the professor assigned? It must have been the second or third assignment—the one about moral responsibility in modern society?” At your nod, he smiles and continues. “Yours was the best one I read, hands down.”
“Yeah, he talked about it for three days straight,” a new voice says. Whirling around, you see Yoongi’s head poking out the back door, smirking like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. “He wouldn’t shut up about it. It was annoying as hell.”
Namjoon groans. “Seriously, Yoongi?”
The blond man puts his hands up innocently. “Just stopping by to make sure you guys weren’t dead,” he says before letting the door shut again, chortling to himself.
Namjoon sighs and turns back to you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry about him. He doesn’t have much of a filter.”
You giggle and squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry about it. He’s gone now, so I can finally do this.”
Namjoon tilts his head curiously. “Do wha—?” he begins to say, only to be cut off by your mouth on his. The kiss is soft and slow, your lips moving lazily against his, and by the time you pull away, both of you are breathing much more heavily. Namjoon’s hands find their way around your waist, tugging you close, and you nestle deeper into the warmth of his embrace, enjoying how it wards off the chill in the air.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you know,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek.
He chuckles and chases after your mouth, his nose bumping affectionately against yours. “Yeah. Me too.”
///
You wake up the next morning to golden sunlight streaming in through the window and an arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Namjoon hasn’t opened his eyes yet, his hair sticking every which way, but his grip on you tightens when he feels you begin to stir. “Good morning,” he mumbles, finally cracking an eye open and smiling down at you.
“Good morning,” you whisper back. You’re positive that you look like an absolute mess—hair in disarray, face crusty from sleep, body desperately in need of a shower—and yet Namjoon is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on, dimples dotting his cheeks as he reaches up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. You reciprocate with a kiss to his palm, and he grins. Grabbing your chin, he tilts your face up so he can kiss you properly—his lips soft and gentle against yours. It almost feels like an ordinary morning, and for a few moments, you can pretend that there isn’t a monstrous epidemic running rampant through large swathes of the country. For a few moments, you’re just a girl and a boy, basking in the idyllic haze of each other’s presence.
But then there’s a knock on the door, followed by Yoongi’s low drawl. “Get dressed and come eat, lovebirds. Sooner we get on the road, the better.”
You break apart from Namjoon, giggling when you see the dopey grin stretched across his face. “Why are you looking at me like that, you weirdo?”
His grin only widens, his arms looping around your waist. “It’s just funny,” he says. “Waking up with you, Yoongi yelling at us—this is the first ordinary morning I’ve had in a long time. And I’ve missed it. I’ve missed it a lot.”
“So have I,” you murmur, burying your face into the warm cotton of his t-shirt and allowing yourself one more moment of normalcy before getting out of bed. Walking into the bathroom, you are pleased to discover that the water is still running, and Namjoon even manages to unearth some unused toothbrushes and toothpaste from underneath the sink. The bristles are a little too stiff for your liking and the water has a metallic tinge that refuses to dissipate, but being able to brush your teeth makes a world of difference. There’s a noticeable bounce in your step as you make your way downstairs with Namjoon, and Yoongi and Jungkook pick up on it right away.
“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Yoongi says without looking up from his bowl of dry cereal. “The sex was that good, huh?”
“W-we didn’t…” Namjoon stammers, his cheeks flushing. “That’s not what we—”
You squeeze his hand, stopping his rambling in its tracks. “Let them think what they want,” you advise. “They’re just jealous of your dick game, anyway.”
“Ew,” Jungkook grumbles, throwing an apple at you. “Way too much information, {Name}.”
You shrug, just barely managing to catch the piece of fruit. “You guys brought it up first. Not my fault.”
The remainder of breakfast passes quickly. Yoongi and Jungkook head outside to start loading the car while you and Namjoon scour the house one last time for anything that might be useful, and within the hour, you are back on the road toward Sonyeo City.
“You know, this Jin character sounds like a piece of work,” Yoongi grumbles from the passenger seat for what feels like the millionth time. Jungkook is driving today, which leaves you and Namjoon in the backseat with the eclectic collection of food and weapons you’ve amassed. The four of you are listening to the 2J broadcast again, and after a rather lengthy discussion of zombie evasion techniques, Jin has lapsed into telling the worst dad jokes you’ve ever heard.
What does a vegetarian zombie eat? Graaains!
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Yoongi groans.
Morning turns into midday, the sun high in the sky. The road winds on, through green cornfields and grassy plains and the occasional small town. Several times, you spot a zombie or two shambling around aimlessly through the windows, but they’re quickly forgotten as Jungkook slams on the gas pedal. You get the feeling that he’s relishing the lack of an enforced speed limit, and taking full advantage of the empty highway.
It’s late afternoon by the time you arrive on the outskirts of Sonyeo City. Off in the distance, you can see taller skyscrapers rising up, gray and hazy against the horizon, but the area you’re in right now seems to be the warehouse district. Low, squat factories sit on either side of the road and a branching network of railroad tracks weaves throughout, but everything is eerily still and deathly quiet. No smoke rises up from the smokestacks, and you’re pretty sure you spot a train that’s been toppled over onto its side before Jungkook hits the gas again and takes you deeper into the city. The buildings get taller the farther you drive, but you still have yet to see any signs of life besides the occasional bobbing pigeon or scurrying rat.
That all changes when the car rounds the next corner. It looks as if a bomb has gone off in one of the largest brick buildings lining the street, covering the entire block in a layer of rubble. Zombified citizens mill around in the debris, and Jungkook slams on the brakes, his eyes wide with panic.
“Dude, just back up and try another street,” Yoongi says when he doesn’t move. “They haven’t noticed us yet.”
“No, that’s not it,” Jungkook says, his voice shaking. “We’re… we’re low on gas. Like, really, really low.”
Yoongi takes another look outside and blanches. “Are you fucking kidding me? We’ll get killed if we try to refuel now!”
“I’ll—I’ll get us as far away as I can,” Jungkook stammers, throwing the vehicle into reverse and beginning to back away from the mayhem. He clears the corner and continues backward for another two blocks before the car slows to a full stop, a groan escaping his lips. “Fuck.”
Glancing out the window, you see four stray zombies stumbling toward you. “Uh, guys? We have a bit of a problem.”
Namjoon curses and begins digging through the stash of weapons at his feet, pulling out several long knives and an axe you’d taken from the farmhouse. “We don’t stand a chance without a car,” he mutters as he pulls out supplies. “Yoongi, grab the gas. I’ll watch your back while you fill up the tank. Jungkook, be ready to drive at a moment’s notice. {Name}...” He grins, handing you the rifle to join the pistol you already have at your side. “You’re on sniper duty. But save it as a last resort, okay? Gunshots will draw even more attention to us, which is the last thing we need right now.”
“Got it,” you say, accepting the box of ammunition he slides over and ignoring the way your heart begins to pound in your chest. “Stay safe out there, okay?”
Namjoon presses a quick kiss to your mouth, ignoring the disgusted sound Jungkook makes. “I will, don’t worry. Be back soon.” And then he’s hopping out of the car, joining Yoongi at the gas tank and scanning the street for any approaching threats. The four zombies at the end of the street are still a block and a half away, but the distance doesn’t make you feel any better as you watch Namjoon and Yoongi standing out in the open, unprotected. Through the open window, you can hear Yoongi cursing, hands shaking as he opens up the gas can.
Bang!
A young man bursts out of an apartment complex just up the street, the door slamming against the brick wall behind it. Even from a block away, you can see the frantic expression on his face as he dashes outside without taking proper stock of his surroundings. Your mouth opens to shout a warning—beside you, you can see Jungkook about to do the same—but it’s already too late. The zombies are upon him before he can even scream, rotting teeth tearing into his flesh and ripping chunks away until he’s reduced to a huddled mass of blood and viscera on the ground, deathly still and silent.
Then, to your absolute disbelief, the man is crawling to his feet again, his stance lopsided and his expression blank. Half of his jaw has been torn away, exposing teeth, and your stomach squirms at the sight of his fresh wounds still oozing crimson.
“Holy shit!” Jungkook screeches, whirling around to face you with wild eyes. “We need to get out of here!”
“I know, dumbass!” you yell back, craning your head back to check on your other two companions only to nearly jump out of your skin when the door flies open in your face.
“It’s me!” Namjoon shouts, sliding into his seat. Up front, Yoongi is already seated, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Drive, Jungkook!”
Jungkook lets loose a colorful string of curses and fumbles to start the engine, eyes skittering between the steering wheel and the approaching zombies. “Come on, come on—”
“WAIT!”
All four of you whirl around, searching for the source of the unfamiliar voice. A split second later, a young man with fluffy blond hair pops up in your window, followed quickly by another man with longer, dark brown hair. “Please wait!” the blond man entreaties, wincing when you let out a startled yelp and slam a hand against the glass. “Please!”
“Who the fuck are you?” you gasp.
“My name’s Jimin, and this is Taehyung,” he says, glancing over to where the zombies are rapidly approaching. “You have to take us with you!”
Jungkook chooses that moment to butt in. “What the fuck? No way! How do we know you’re not infected?”
“We’re not!” It’s Taehyung who speaks this time, his voice low but no less urgent than Jimin’s. “Please, you have to believe us.”
“How do you expect us to do that?” Yoongi growls. “We don’t know you—you could be trying to kill us, for all we know.”
“Why the hell would we kill you?” Jimin yelps, looking offended by the very idea.
“We’re not zombies, I promise” Taehyung adds, frowning. “No need to be so paranoid.”
“I think a healthy dose of paranoia is a good thing in this situation!” Yoongi snaps.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Namjoon’s pensive expression, his chin jutting out in the way it does when he’s focused. “Joon? You okay?”
His frown deepens. “I think we have to let them in.”
Yoongi balks. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Namjoon shakes his head. “No, seriously. Remember what Jin said in that broadcast—about how quickly an infected person’s vocal chords deteriorate? There’s no way they’d be talking if they were infected. Absolutely none.”
Jimin claps. “Exactly! Now can you please unlock the door?”
You look at Namjoon, who nods. Jungkook groans and Yoongi slaps a hand over his eyes, but you nod back and reach over to flip the switch, the door unlocking with an audible click.
“Thank you so much,” Jimin chants as he piles into the backseat in a mess of limbs. “Thank you. Holy shit, thank you.” Taehyung follows after him, slamming the door shut, and you grunt when Jimin scoots over to give him a little more room and nearly elbows you in the face.
“Careful,” Namjoon cautions, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging until you are practically seated in his lap. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung make themselves comfortable, carefully avoiding the bags of supplies on the floor as Jungkook starts the car.
“Thanks again,” Jimin repeats earnestly once he’s settled in. “I know it must’ve been hard sticking your necks out like that, but we really do appreciate it.”
“Why were you even out in the open like that?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his eyes at Jimin. “Isn’t there supposed to be a quarantine zone somewhere in this godforsaken city?”
Taehyung nods. “Yeah, it’s in the city center, past the river. We were headed there ourselves, but then the explosion happened.”
“You guys must’ve seen it,” Jimin says. “Few blocks back, rocks and garbage everywhere? We think it was a gas leak, but who knows? It totaled our car, and we’ve been on foot ever since.”
Yoongi looks a little abashed. “Sorry to hear that.”
Jimin shrugs and offers him a crooked grin. “It’s all good. We’re still here now, and we’re still alive. That’s really all that matters.”
///
As it turns out, Jimin is a cadet in the local police academy—something you discover when his jacket falls open to reveal an impressive array of weapons strapped to his belt. Taehyung is an art history student, but between his fondness for paintball and his childhood on a farm, you quickly find that he’s almost just as well-versed in marksmanship as Jimin.
In the last ten minutes, however, Taehyung has fallen oddly silent. A glance over at the brown-haired man reveals that he is staring out the window, lost in thought as buildings rush by. Jimin is still chattering about the academy to a very interested Namjoon, but you don’t miss the occasional furtive glance he gives his friend, his brow creasing briefly in concern before he manages to smooth his expression out again.
Up ahead, you catch a glimpse of the river—a ribbon of blue snaking its way through the city. “There’s a big bend in the river, kind of like a horseshoe, right around the downtown area,” Jimin explains. “I think it was some kind of fortress back in the day, before the rest of the city was built around it. Most of the walls are still standing—historical preservation and whatnot—so the only way to get there is by crossing the bridge or going through the tunnel. And I’m like ninety percent sure they’ve already closed the tunnel down.”
“Bridge it is, then,” Yoongi says. “You know how to get us there?”
“Yeah, you take a left at the next light and then—”
“Can we actually stop here for a minute?”
Everyone glances back at Taehyung, who seems to have finally found his voice again. “Stop?” Namjoon asks, a frown etching its way across his face. “Why?”
Taehyung sucks in a deep breath, his gaze darting over to an unassuming brick building on the corner. “It’s just that… that’s where my little sister lives.”
And in an instant, you understand. You understand why he’s been so quiet this entire time, and why he’s been gazing out the window so wistfully. Jungkook steps on the brake, and the car rolls to a slow stop at the curb. “I get it,” he mutters, his fingers tight around the steering wheel. “I’d… I’d want to check too, if it were my brother.”
Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung smiles weakly, mumbling his thanks, and Jimin takes his hand with a reassuring smile. “Come on, Tae. Let’s go get Eonjin.”
“I’ll come too,” Jungkook volunteers, hopping out of the driver’s seat. “You might need the extra help.”
Yoongi sighs and exits the car as well, glancing back at you and Namjoon. “Guess I should stretch my legs too. You two wanna watch the car?
You nod. “We can do that.”
Yoongi nods back and follows the other three men into the building. You watch as they disappear into its dark depths, letting out a soft sigh.
“Do you think they’ll find her?”
Namjoon hums. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I hope so, for Taehyung’s sake. But I really don’t know if they will.”
You sigh again, shifting into a more comfortable position on his lap and letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. His arms tighten around your waist, and you shiver as his warm breath caresses your neck. “I’m glad my parents are overseas on a cruise right now,” you say softly. “They posted photos just yesterday, so I guess that means that whatever this epidemic is, it isn’t a global thing.”
“You’re lucky,” Namjoon mumbles. “I haven’t heard from my parents yet.”
You stiffen in his embrace. “You… you haven’t? Oh my god, Joon, I’m so sorry.”
He tries to shrug off your concern, but you don’t miss the way his throat bobs harshly as he swallows. “It is what it is,” he says after a few seconds. “I’ve heard from my sister, at least. She says she’ll be making her way here in the next day or two.”
“That’s good,” you murmur. You don’t know what else you could possibly say, and Namjoon, luckily, seems to understand.
“Yeah.”
Silence falls over the two of you, then—each of you lost in your own thoughts. Even though you’re so close to your destination now, it still feels far—as if it’s a mirage that will disappear if you so much as breathe the wrong way. You don’t know what awaits you, and for a moment, you’re terrified of the possibilities. But Namjoon’s arms remain wound around you, his presence warm and reassuring even now, and you think to yourself that maybe—just maybe—everything will be all right.
And then Jimin’s banging on your window again, forcibly pulling you out of your stupor. “Guys! Guys! It’s Tae—he’s been bitten!”
A beat passes. His words take a second to register in your brain—Tae, bitten—almost as if they don’t make sense together. It’s a sentence you never wanted to hear, and your limbs suddenly feel like they’ve been submerged in water, slow and heavy and dragging.
Namjoon, however, is up in an instant. “Where is he now?” he asks, throwing the door open and laying a hand on Jimin’s shoulder as he blabbers on. “Is he bleeding? Is he hurt anywhere else?”
“No, no—” Jimin looks close to tears. “It’s just—it all happened so fast. We were in Eonjin’s apartment but she wasn’t home, and then this guy came out of nowhere and—and…” He trails off, gesturing weakly behind him. “Look for yourselves.”
Yoongi and Jungkook stumble their way out of the building, supporting a pale-looking Taehyung between them. Blood drips down his wrist and onto the sidewalk, and the sight of the bright red liquid shakes off any stupor you might have been under. Delving into the backpack full of supplies from the farmhouse, you pull out the first-aid kit, brandishing it in the air as you jump out of the SUV. “He’s losing way too much blood,” you say, pulling out a roll of bandages and a tube of ointment, handing the rest of the kit over to Namjoon. “We have to stop it.”
“This isn’t exactly a safe spot for medical procedures,” Yoongi points out, gesturing around the street with his free hand. “We’re out in the open, totally exposed.”
“Then we’ll get back in the car,” Namjoon says. “We can drive and patch him up at the same time.”
“But he’s infected,” Jungkook whispers. “What happens when he… y’know. Turns?”
None of you have an answer for that. Jimin’s running his hands frantically through his hair, and you can practically see the desperation swimming in his honey brown eyes. “We can’t just leave him behind,” he murmurs. “We can’t.”
“Then we won’t,” you tell him, stepping up to Taehyung and slathering a generous amount of ointment on the bite wound. Then you pull off a short section of bandage, tying it around his upper arm like a tourniquet. “We’re going to get you in the car now, Tae. Is that okay? Can you still walk?”
Taehyung blinks dazedly, his brown eyes taking a few seconds to focus properly on you. “I… I think so. Hang on. Lemme try.”
Namjoon nearly drops the first-aid kit. “Wait, did you just talk?”
Taehyung blinks again, swaying slightly on his feet. “Yes?”
Your eyes widen as realization dawns. “Wait, but infected people can’t talk. Their vocal chords…”
“... deteriorate,” Namjoon finishes for you. “Yeah. So then that begs the question: why can Taehyung still talk?”
For the second time in as many minutes, none of you have an answer. “Tae,” you try again. “How do you feel right now?”
Taehyung’s mouth pulls down into a slow frown. “I feel… slow. A little muddled, I guess? No brain eating urges or anything though, which is nice. Brains probably don’t taste very good.”
“No,” you say, exchanging a glance with your equally flabbergasted companions. “I can’t imagine they would.”
///
Not twenty minutes later, you are driving across the bridge that leads to your final destination. A rather formidable wall with an even more formidable gate stands in your way, and you watch as several guards peer out from over the top, weapons drawn and at the ready.
“Stop right there!” the guard stationed on the ground commands, his gun trained on the SUV. “Get out of the vehicle with your hands up and identify yourselves one by one.”
“My name is Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon says, clambering out with his palms extended. You follow after him, stating your name as well, and the guard directs both of you to stand against the wall, calling for a man named Seokjin to come check your vitals as your companions continue introducing themselves.
A minute later, a smaller door to the right of the gate opens, and out walks a man wearing a white coat and a genial smile. “Sorry about this,” he says, adjusting his stethoscope. “Proper procedure and all that. You can never be too careful, right?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, pulling the collar of your shirt aside so he can listen to your heartbeat. “This is hardly the worst thing to happen to us in the last few days.”
The young doctor laughs—a high, squeaky sound that reminds you of a windshield wiper. “Touché,” he says, waving Namjoon over so he can listen to his heart as well. “Well, look at that! You both appear to be alive—congratulations! It’s nice to meet you.”
His laughter is contagious, and you can’t help the answering giggle that bubbles up in your chest and escapes into the open air. “Nice to meet you too, Doctor.”
He grimaces, flapping a hand at you. “Please, call me Jin. Everyone does. Doctor makes me sound way too stuffy.”
The sound of the familiar name has your eyebrows flying up into your hairline. You exchange a glance with Namjoon, who looks equally shocked, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he ventures, “Jin? Does that mean you’re one half of the 2J radio broadcast?”
Jin’s face splits into a delighted grin. “It sure does! Were you guys listening to us?”
You nod. “It was the only station we could find. I don’t think we’d be here if it weren’t for you and Jay.”
His grin broadens. “His real name’s Hoseok, actually—I had to talk him into the nickname. Took me ages.” Then his expression sobers. “That’s great to hear about the broadcast, though. Really. We weren’t sure that we were reaching people, but it’s nice to know that we definitely are. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” you tell him earnestly.
Jin grins. “You’re welcome,” he says, waving goodbye as he moves on to check on everyone else’s vitals. He makes friendly smalltalk with Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jimin as he listens to their heartbeats, but frowns when he reaches Taehyung, regarding him a little more closely. Jimin looks on anxiously, twisting the hem of his jacket, and you and Namjoon wordlessly sidle closer, ready to defend your friend if the need arose.
“You look a little pale,” Jin says, but his voice isn’t accusatory. “Are you feeling okay?”
Taehyung shrugs vaguely, his eyes unfocused. “I’ve been better.”
Namjoon chooses that moment to step forward, keeping his voice low and guarded. “Jin, you know a lot about the zombies, right?”
Jin nods. “I’ve been conducting research, yeah. It’s slow going though.”
Jimin eyes Jin warily. “What would you say if we told you that one of us was immune to the zombie virus?”
Jin’s mouth falls open, his gaze immediately landing on Taehyung again as he leans closer and stares intently at his pupils. “Immunity? Now that’s interesting,” he mumbles to himself, rubbing his hands together. “That could change everything.”
Taehyung blinks blearily at him. “What are you going on about?”
Jin just laughs. “They’re clear,” he calls to the guard, who nods and returns to the guardhouse. Once he’s gone, Jin claps his hands together and beams. “All right!” he exclaims. “Let’s get you all settled in, shall we?”
“What are you going to do to Tae?” Jimin asks suspiciously, scooting a little closer to his friend.
“Absolutely nothing, if I don’t have his permission,” Jin promises. “But guys, think about it. Someone who’s immune? I could learn so much about what’s causing that immunity if I ran a few tests… maybe even find a cure, eventually. It’s an incredible opportunity.” Upon seeing Jimin’s lingering distrust, however, he stops and laughs again. “But honestly, I won’t do a thing if he doesn’t want me to. Right now, I just want to help you get settled in. All of you need lots of rest and a proper meal. Doctor’s orders, okay?”
Jimin nods. “Fine.”
Up ahead, the gate is slowly beginning to creak open. Jin is welcoming all of you to Sonyeo City, but you barely hear him. Your focus is on Namjoon and Namjoon alone, his presence warm and reassuring as he finds your hand and laces your fingers together. 
“Ready?” he asks.
You suck in a deep, steadying breath and squeeze his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
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ih8paris ¡ 3 years
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i hate paris
Do people still use tumblr? I’m so old. And I never used it. I don’t keep up with the times. I don’t give a shit. You know what? It all passes. Except facebook. They made a deal with the devil and really, was it worth it? I use facebook. I live in Paris and there are these groups for women, expats, cheap people like me that want free yoga. That’s what I use it for. And news. BBC CNN ABC NBC MSNBC, you get it and the posts. They report what the people supposedly want, but then we can see what the people are actually saying. Donald Trump won’t win? Look at voices talking? Look at the little people. It looked like he was going to win. What do you know, he did. But what if he had lost. What if Hilary didn’t get a handle on COVID and then Donald won in 2020? We would all be so fucked right now. Maybe we already are. Anyway, I’m not here to talk politics. I’m here to process my life choices and see if there were signs that I was making HUGE mistake. 
So here’s the thing. I’m a bit untraditional. Growing up was shit. Chuck left and made sure to shit all over everything before he did. And the whole get married in your 20′s have babies get divorced get remarried have more kids bc hey you’re not old at 30 and this is the guy you actually wanted to have kids with. I rant but you get it. Traditional not for me. Also not traditional, i have some money. This money has paid for college, pastry school and yes this wonderful covid filled experience in paris: the city that hates me. I’m fortunate. I don’t live lavishly. It’s not that much money. I grew up poor, I pinch pennies. Then i do exciting things. Or maybe challenging things? I am fortunate and grateful. And guilt filled. I am given this gift and shit it away, trying make something out of this paris experience. It’s like a bad relationship where i keep begging to give it one more change. It will get better. I’m a fucking idiot. So here I am, you know third times the charm, right? Back in paris. Vaccinated. I’ve made connections with people. I feel confident that this will not be a waste. It will be fun. It will be educational. I will network. Gain experiences. Omg learn so much. Be able to travel. OH the hopes and delusions i had. But maybe we should start from the beginning. 
Omg, which beginning. Paris, i guess, we can go back further when the moment calls. So 30 is approaching. I’ve moved back home. That’s story for another time. Remember my life is not traditional. So I’m home to help out and idk try to figure out what the fuck i want to do with my life. See the big mistake i made in my 20s was listening to people i don’t admire. i graduate with an art degree. my college exit interview said i am qualified to work at a bank or Kraft foods. no connects, recommendations. No direct. And my family keeps talking about getting a job, benefits, 401k. At one point a little later on, my grandpa was pushing for me to go into service. Sorry gramps, they don’t want me. My education was good. I learned a lot. They had good resources and a lot. But then nothings. So i worked at a bakery. I worked hard at this bakery. For more than a few months i worked 7 days a week. I didn’t have a life. i had money. Money i made. And apparently that was the most important thing, from the talks i keep getting from my family. And of course i wasn’t earning enough, so needed to work harder and climb the ladder. There is no ladder in a bakery. Whatever, I rant again. We’ll come back to this. 
So 30. It’s looming. I’ve thought about grad school. The money I mentioned earlier. It’s had time to grow. The GRE expires after 5 years, not that i took it but 7 years after I graduated, i wasn’t taking it. So Europe. Europe is artsy. I would like to make good money, enjoy the work okay, but mostly make good money with the least amount of actual work. So teaching. My mom teaches. Computer programing. She’s the head of the department. She fucking hates it. The dude that was suppose to get that job, he died. It was sad. But they also didn’t replace him so when the other guy retired, it became her job. It was an unpleasant 10ish years. But again, I digress. So teaching. Work hard and play hard. And it’s always changing - ish. I guess as much as you want, or don’t. New students every 15 weeks. breaks at all the holidays. Summers off. And when you’re just about to get bored, you’re back at work. Maybe because this is the only lifestyle i know, but it doesn’t sound bad. I worked in an office of women in high school. That i for sure knew i never wanted. But teaching. College. Okay. I need a masters. Learn about MA and MFA. Start looking for jobs in Cali because life’s too short to fucking deal with the snow and mosquitos. Idk everyone doesn’t live in Cali. So now the plan is MFA. They are much more rare and more in demand at universities. More money - but this time i think chasing the money necessary bc Calif = expensive. Now back to looking in Europe. I love Italy. I would love to live in in Italy for more that just a semester but actually live Italian or close to it. The language makes sense. The people make sense. The art makes sense. And it’s omg gorgeous. Alas, no American accredited MFA programs I could qualify for in Italy. I don’t know if there were none but if there were, they would have been in textiles, or digital/graphic design. Which I don’t know anything about. I’m old school, metal work, drawing, printmaking - although so far we haven’t gotten along, another thing i going to try to make work before i leave this city that hates me, for good - painting, ceramics, you get it. I hate computers. I appreciate technology but my mom teaches computers therefore there was never a working computer in my house so we (my brothers and me) don’t do computers. So i find this school - in english and in Paris. Paris, so glamorous. Home of famous artists and their art. The Louvre and Eiffel Tower and Fashion. So okay, i check out their programs. One i have no fucking clue what it is. Still don’t. Another is Photography - pass. Graphics - no. List continues. Then i see Drawing. That’s interesting. I can draw, i draw well. This is a program i could probably get into. SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: you can get into any program. No program is ever full. It’s bull shit. Masters program. Undergrad = everyone is applying at the same time. Masters = ages range and much fewer people go. So don’t fall for that shit - EVER. 
They have a one year and two year program. The second year is less than half the first year so makes sense to go the second year and get the MFA vs MA. So that works out. I’m reading and checking it out. Not sure what I’m looking for but in hindsight, i knew something was missing. Talk it over with my mom and her peers who are also teachers. Consensus - don’t be part of the first group. So i have an interview to get it - what a joke. It is also a time for me to learn more about the program. So i ask, is this new? How long has it been around. Answer: Oh no, it’s been working several years. Very confident. I didn’t have a follow-up, just said I don’t want to be in the first group. I said those words. Her response: Oh no no don’t worry. I was so naive. And yes this continued through the whole program. People’s personalities are what they are. So she lied to get me into the program and just kept lying. No respect for the insane about of money i was paying for this ‘experience’. No respect for the education i could have gotten somewhere else. Because this program had NO educational value. I’m not being bitter or dramatic. It was a complete waste of time and money. Then covid happened. Might have been a blessing in disguise. I can go into detail of the program later. This is just an overview of the beginning. 
So, I get accepted. What a surprise. I’m now officially 30 and this - i feel- is my last hoorah. After this i will be an adult who can get an adult job and become an adult. But first i need housing. And a visa. Which is very confusing. So the French and Italians - Italians I am familiar  with, tell you about it later. So they’re similar in that lazy, lack of thoroughness, that’s their thing. Difference being Italians own it, French hardcore deny. So I’m reading this paperwork and it says thing like you need to have all your documents before your visa appointment including plane ticket. Well I can’t go without the visa so why would i get a plane ticket? Cart before the horse shit - it’s very french, wait until you hear about banks.  
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briellelevi ¡ 4 years
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『 maude apatow. twenty-one. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that GABRIELLE LEVI from CHESTNUT DRIVE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -INVASIVE & -IMPULSIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool FLORIST and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +AFFECTIONATE & +IDEALISTIC. i hope i see them around again! 『 kenna. twenty. cst. she/her. 』
basics
full name: gabrielle luisa levi.
nicknames: gabby, gabs (family only), brielle, bri, elle, etc
age: twenty-one.
birthday: january 23rd, 1999 (capricorn)
gender / pronouns: cis woman, she/her
sexuality: bisexual.
family: david levi (father), katherine carmichael (mother), older brother, aurora levi (older sister)
hometown: mapleview.
background
meet the youngest levi child: gabrielle. most know her as brielle, the nickname she started going by when she was thirteen. no one rlly calls her gabrielle except for her family & super close family friends.
she was always super close to her dad growing up. like.... total daddy’s girl. it probably had a lot to do with her dad being the ‘fun parent’ tbh 
looves her siblings! always. was v much the annoying nosy little sister growing up. meddled quite a bit in their personal affairs. did the same to her friends too tbh. but in a well meaning way! she just wants her friends and family to be happy and thinks that sometimes they just need a push, yanno??
juggled a million different activities throughout school. she was always picking up new hobbies and was just... trying new things constantly.  embroidery. sewing. drawing. she got rlly into writing one summer and even wrote a book! it uh... wasn’t very good. she was like twelve, ok?
she played quite a few sports in middle & high school. her personal favorite and the one she consistently came back to every year was tennis. oh, she loved everything about it! she did really contemplate maybe becoming a professional tennis player but... she wasn’t that good and she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle that much pressure. 
and even with her million hobbies, she still found time to act out a bit. she was constantly sneaking out of the house. to go to parties, to hang out with her on again/off again boyfriend, to sneak into abandoned buildings after dark. why? she couldn’t really tell you. maybe it was just her boyfriend’s influence or it was her acting out due to her parents fighting OR acting out because her dad was the mayor and it always seemed like everyone’s eyes were on her anyways. who knows! she doesn’t. it was fun though. she does look back on those times fondly.
she has always been very impulsive and not rlly the best at making decisions. she went and got a tattoo of her boyfriend’s initials when she was eighteen. like... right on her eighteenth birthday. she was young, in love, and wanted to prove it. he did the same.
two more impulsive tattoos followed that one. one of a bee on a flower & one that says “remember who you are”. she still has yet to regret the last two. she thinks they’re nice. 
and probably the biggest impulsive decision she’s ever made - she moved to new york city with her boyfriend when she was nineteen. it was while her parents were divorcing and she kinda just wanted to get away. from her mom more than her anyone, she was just like... really upset and angry with her. even though rationally she knew that her parents were probably better off apart. at first, she just wanted to take a trip but her boyfriend was wanting to move so she thought... hey! why not? and off she went. 
she got a job at a little flower shop in new york that really opened her eyes to just how much she loved flowers. she had always been the type of kid to just pluck flowers out of the ground (sometimes out of her neighbor’s garden) and give them to her friends and family. she just never really thought that she could do something with flowers as a job.
a year after the move though, she learned that her boyfriend had been cheating on her. almost for like... the whole time they had been living there??? a mutual friend told her and she was honestly just heartbroken. 
and to like.... everyone’s surprise, her mom was the one she called in tears that night. she’ll say that she just called her mom because she knew her dad was busy as mayor but really... she just wanted her mom. her mom picked her up as soon as she could and brielle ended up staying with her for a few months. it was a nice time for the two of them and they repaired their relationship a bit. it was good for them 
she ended up moving into an apartment with some old friends from high school and has been ever since she moved back (which... if my math is correct was about a year ago?? give or take). she likes having roommates. 
lil fun facts
rides a bike basically everywhere she goes. she knows how to drive, she just prefers not to. the whole thing just makes her really nervous.
loves to cook!!! is always cooking different meals for her roommates. has been known to cook breakfast for any one nightstands/fwbs/significant others her roommates have had over. 
likes insects. she just thinks they’re Neat. has seriously considered starting up beekeeping as a hobby. she’s done a lot of research into it but she doesn’t think her current residence is the best place for it. 
went vegan for like a month back in high school. still enjoys a lot of vegan dishes though! she tries to eat vegan at least once a week. 
likes flavored lemonades. strawberry is her favorite and is the usually what she has in the house. whether she made it herself or just bought a jug from the store. depends on how she’s feeling that week. 
has a lil kitty cat named pepper! she technically adopted pepper with her ex-boyfriend but he just let her take her :) 
really likes pressing flowers. she likes to make art out of them and has considered starting an etsy shop. not just for the pressed flower art but for some of her embroidery and sewing projects.
is looking to cover her tattoo of her ex’s initials.... if anyone has any ideas pls hit her up she’s so tired of looking at it its so cringe-y
wanted connections
her roommates!! she probably has like... 2 or 3 of them? they should be around the same age as her considering most of them are her friends from high school. 
best friend since childhood! they kept in touch when brielle moved away but it just wasn’t the same. was probably overjoyed when she moved back!!! could be her roommate too? maybe? idk. up 2 you!
high school exes - people she dated before her ex. or even during one of the times they had broken up. they were always off & on in high school.
her ex she moved to new york with? could be fun.... why did he move back? who knows!
almost lover/one that got away - this is gonna be the most specific one but like... they were always super close friends. they had feelings for brielle. had this dramatic “Hey, I Love You” confession right before she moved away in a hope that maybe she’d choose to stay. rlly confused her tbh. she left anyway. now she’s back! they could decide to just be friends. maybe they’re over her but brielle has feelings for them. maybe they BOTH like each other but think the other one doesn’t. we could do anything! i just like... angst.
family friends - yanno... friends of the family. could be friends with her dad or her mom. or was a mutual friend idk.
hmmm... this is all i can think of atm... i’m rlly up for anything! i’m gonna try to make like an actual in-depth wanted connections page but no promises bc i can be lazy :// 
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