bow down before the pretty

anonymous asked:

Oh my god I love you no one ever writes 7 days to die aus please write/ref more!!

Ahhh, you should bless @gaywood for giving me the prompt in the first place! 

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but okay, I love to think about them not knowing each other at first, and it’s like Ryan collects a whole pack of them that follow him around like puppies as he passes through dead or dying towns

and maybe they’re the first people he’s come across who are decent, who aren’t out for his blood and the guns he’s built with his own two hands or the tins of food that sit heavy at the bottom of his pack. 

There’s Jack who snatches his arm as he’s sprinting from a horde, pulls him into a room that’s well fortified, and Jack’s clearly been there for a while, if the amount of stuff in the room is anything to go by; and he’s obviously got it from other people- killed them, Ryan thinks, and he’s quick on the draw- but Jack ignores him, keeps his ear pressed to the door, tense, before deflating. They’re safe.

Jack saved his life and he’s still got his pistol trained on him, even as Jack blinks at the gun, confused for a moment before moving on to check the other barricades. 

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anonymous asked:

zayn likes to hear your laugh :)

It’s the late night giggles that ghost over the shared pillow when he’s talking to you about his childhood, sharing stories and insights on life and genuinely making you smile

They’re the early morning screeches of laughter when his fingers dig into your ribs and tickle the sleep out of you, his mouth mere inches away from yours, his own laughter gracing his lips and the world as you know it. 

It’s the laughter you make inbetween sniffling, wiping the back of your hand against your face while he says something dumb in order to get you to smile again. He lets you breathe in a few times before swiping his finger against your cheek to diminish one of the tear tracks. He tells you there’s nothing he wouldn’t do in order to hear your laugh; and when you start to tear up again, he presses his lips to each of your closed eyelids and uses a joke Harry once said to have you laugh quietly, barely at all, but to still do so because of Zayn. 

They’re the laughs that have you bent and doubled over at the stomach because he’s said something, or gone and done something, and the simple action of him being funny causes you to jolt out into the biggest fit of laughter known to man. It makes him smile, first slightly at the corners of his mouth before he’s laughing with you, the grin broad and wide on his face and lighting up the fucking universe. 

Zayn loves hearing you laugh. He wants to hear it every day. 

“Pretty,” he’ll say, rubbing his thumb over the bridge of your nose and down to your cupid’s bow before he finally presses down against your bottom lip. “Pretty eyes. Pretty smile. Pretty you… pretty laugh.” He’ll pause, but only slightly, before reaching out to remove his thumb and kiss you on the mouth, his tongue slow and languid against yours, like it’s a dance. “Pretty everything.”