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calumxkisses · 3 years

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Dancing In The Sky | a.i.

pairing: ashton irwin x reader

genre: fluff to angst

warnings: death (not main characters)

summary: request - Hi!!! It’s very morbid but, I really want one with ash or cal, where they’re in one of the boys house just the boys and their girls, and then the reader receive a call in the middle of the conversation telling someone in her family is dead and she just in shock and she tells them, and the he hugs her and she breaks!!! Thanks

a/n: recently my granny had to be rushed to the hospital and i thought i was going to lose her - luckly it didn't happen. i felt this request particularly close. i always say 'i love you' to my grandma before hunging up on the phone (we live pretty far away from each other) and i thought about what would happen if i forgot to say it, not knowing it would be for the last time. i'm sorry to anyone of you if this triggers you. i love you.

you should read this imagine while listening to: before you go

➳

The light coming in from the window on your right illuminates the whole room, it’s late afternoon but the sun shines almost as if it were noon. The scorching heat has now passed, there is a breeze that cools the air and spreads the scent of the grill in the garden, alternating the scent of grilled vegetables and steaks throughout the house. The pool water is still moving, the inflatable flamingo is wedged near the pool stairs and you can still see the tracks of Michael's wet feet near the diving board.

Halsey's songs are repeated at a low volume, but the guys sing them out loud and a smile forms on your face as you see how they are always ready to support their friends, not only publicly with tweets or instagram stories, but also in private, enjoying music like normal people do.

You hold onto the sweatshirt Ashton gave you as you grab your cell phone from the sofa and put it in your shorts pocket. Your hair is still wet from the shower you just took and it’s leaking few drops of water as you head outside, where your friends are starting to set the table for dinner.

You don't know how it happened, you have vague memories, but you feel grateful to have them around you, to have the opportunity to consider them as a second family, to be able to hug them and to be able to laugh with them. It is a fortune that not everyone has and you make sure you don't waste this opportunity.

“Honey!” Ashton yells, shaking his hand up and looking at you with an amused look. A few tufts of hair fall in front of his face and with one hand he tries to move them back, only to find them in front of his eyes again. His swimsuit is now dry, his chest is red from staying under the sun all day but his tattoos still manage to stand out in the tan and a huge smile covers his face.

Seeing him so happy, confident, at peace with his mind and in love with life, warms your heart and you almost feel like crying of joy in seeing him like this.

You wiped his tears, hugged him under the covers and held him a million times as his demons took over, when mirrors became enemies and food scared him.

You turned off his cell phone every time he read comments about his body and spent sleepless nights keeping him company while he vented his frustration by playing the drums.

You held out your hand to him while accompanying him in his battle against himself, you kissed him as he went through hell and his joy was worth every single tear.

You are proud of him, of the way he went back to wearing his favorite t-shirts and of the way he has come to love all his flaws, even though you're still sure he doesn't even have one.

As you leave the house, a cool breeze passes through your hair and you instinctively close your eyes to be able to appreciate the moment of coolness in the terrible heat of the last few days.

When you open your eyes, amazement takes over your body: the sky is not simply blue like the water in the pool you've been in all afternoon, but pink and orange clouds cover it completely; the sun hides behind them, tinges the sky with more intense colors and you feel your soul leave your body at the sight of so much beauty.

The sunset is so mesmerizing that you don't even feel the need to pick up your phone and take a picture of it, it's so beautiful that you're sure not even the best cameras would be able to capture such a marvel.

It’s a pink and orange sunset, bigger clouds are the backdrop to smaller more intense colors and the skyline of the city is slowly tinged with black, the lights of the buildings begin to see each other more and the world slows down as it prepares for the quietest hours.

The sunset arouses familiar, nostalgic, certainly not typical emotions in you; it’s so beautiful that you feel like you are living a dream, you pinch your arm lightly to make sure you are awake but Ashton's laugh reminds you that it is reality and, with that melody in the background, you understand that the difference between dream and reality is not that big.

And even if it were a dream, you know that dreaming never hurt anybody.

As the sunset surrounds you in a warm hug, a small white butterfly begins to flutter around you, spinning around and bringing a smile to your lips. The insect is small, but in the orange sky it stands out in an important way, making you feel like a Disney princess. You stretch your hand up, raising your forefinger and inviting the little butterfly to lean on it and, without fear, it leans on it, resting its wings and showing itself even more beautiful than you thought.

It’s white but at the corners of its wings it has black spots, its gaze seems to be directed towards you as its antennae move delicately. A sense of awe and wonder makes its way inside of you and you slowly bring the butterfly closer to you so you can admire it better, noticing how safe it continues to feel with you.

“Is everything alright?” Sierra asks as she sets the plates on the table, she's too busy to notice how you seem to be in symbiosis with the butterfly.

“Yeah.” You whisper while the insect continues to stay on your finger, motionless, leading you to feel a sense of peace in the moment you are living.

Suddenly, while the blue sky is giving its space to the dark night, the butterfly takes off and, after making another turn around you, heads towards the sky and merges with the lights of the stars.

You walk back to your friends, still confused about what just happened, and you see Michael trying to move the fire bowl to the corner of the pool. “Mike, if I were you I'd be more careful, you're not the luckiest person when it comes to fire.” You smile and you hear your friends laughing out loud as a grin appears on Michael's face.

“Don't worry, Crystal has seen enough tv shows about doctors to know what to do if I get burned again.” He replies looking at his girlfriend and laughing.

“Shut up and come here,” Crystal responds by pretending to be offended. “Dinner’s ready.” her lips try to hold back the smile that is forming on her face.

You sit on your boyfriend's lap while Luke sets the meat on the plates and Sierra pours the beer into your glass. Ashton pushes your hair to the side and kisses you on the neck, giving you goosebumps and getting winks from his friends.

“You’re terrible.” he replies while looking at them and squeezing his hands on your lap, his head resting on your back while he rolls his eyes and smiles. Everyone burst out laughing and the sound of their laughter still feels like the most beautiful melody to you.

As you are about to take your first bite, your phone starts ringing and vibrating inside the pocket of your shorts. You put your fork down and stand up, being careful not to trip over Ashton's feet as he gives you a questioning look. You give him a kiss on his head and you go away slightly from your group so you can hear better.

Your mother's voice is low as you bring the phone to your ear, a smile forms on your face to hear the sound of her voice but the world collapses on you a few seconds later, when her words become understandable while she cries.

The conversation is short-lived, it is mostly made up of your mother's sobs and words you never wanted to hear. Your mouth opens slightly and your heart seems to stop. And when she closes the call, you have a hard time figuring out if you are having a nightmare or if you are still in reality.

“Was that your lover on the phone?” Calum smiles as you stare at your phone screen as soon as you hang up the call. You look up and see everyone's gaze on you as your eyes start to pinch.

“It was my mother,” you take a deep sigh as you try to find the courage to speak. “My grandmother died a couple of hours ago. She's gone and-” and the words die in your mouth.

Your friends' smiles quickly transform as their brows rise and their eyes lose their light. Crystal is the first to hug you, in less than a second her arms are around you but it's all so surreal that you can't even find the strength to move your body. You hear whispers, but your ears are muffled as Ashton takes the place of your best friend and holds you close to his chest, kissing your hair and whispering words of comfort.

It all happens so fast that you struggle to metabolize, it seems to you that the whole world has stopped or is going too fast, it is hard to try to understand as your mind repeats your mother's words all over again.

You talked to your grandmother the day before, you described to her the weather and you told her all the projects you had in mind, including going to see her as soon as possible. She had told you some stories from her past because she knew how much you loved hearing stories from other times and then you said goodbye to her in a hurry because someone had rang the doorbell.

You didn't tell her you loved her and your heart breaks even more at the realization that she left without knowing the affection you felt for her.

Did she know you loved her? Did she know that she was the most important person to you? Did she know you were grateful for all the sacrifices she had made to make you happy? Did she know you were proud of her? Did she know you loved the way she kissed your hands? Did she know how much you cared about her? Or did she pass wondering if you loved her?

If that were the case, you would never forgive yourself.

Part of you, however, is aware that behind those wrinkles and trembling hands, there were years of wisdom and intelligence and that, even when she was sick, she knew that you loved her unconditionally.

You still remember how she was the one who taught you to ride a bike when your parents were too busy working, how her hunched back bent even more as she pushed you along the street outside your childhood house, letting you go on your own when you learned, while still lying to you about how her hands were attached to the bike, to make you feel protected.

You certainly still remember the way she bragged about you, how she proudly used to tell all the ladies at the grocery store that you were her niece, her greatest joy and the best gift she ever received.

And, if you close your eyes and focus, you can still feel the warmth of the old fireplace in her home, of her hands holding yours while your face was resting on her shoulder. You can still hear the sound of burning wood, of her sweet voice singing melodies belonging to past eras while, between one verse and another, her lips kissed your head and whispered words of love.

Most of all, you have memories of how her arms wrapped around your little body when there was a thunderstorm, when the screams inside your house got too loud and when you saw her again after weeks, with your hearts coming back to beat in unison and your lungs beginning to breathe again.

Now that she is gone, who would be by your side? Who would teach you to cook and sew?

You would no longer hear her heart beating when you leaned against her chest, you would no longer hear the sound of her breaths when you slept next to her, you would no longer wake up with the smell of the flowers she grew and, above all, her dry, wrinkled lips would no longer whisper “I love you” to you.

All the fights, all the moments when you were bothered by her calls and all your snorting about the boredom of being with her bring a pang to your heart that tastes of guilt and arrogance, of shame and wasted moments that won't come back.

She was now gone, her heart had beaten for the last time and her eyes had stopped shining and the more time passes, the more her absence starts to hurt.

While your friends are around you to not leave you alone and Ashton hugs you tightly while caressing your hair, everything seems to start to make sense: the butterfly that just moments before had leaned on your hand, the sunset so beautiful and intense - she was there, she was giving you her last goodbye with all the delicacy possible.

She was reassuring you that she will always be there for you, that she will be in the sunsets under which you will fall asleep and that she will be the butterflies that will fly around in the sky, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be alright.

And with this new certainty and a weight in your chest that will slowly go away, you let yourself go, the tears begin to roll down your face and the sobs echo in the silence of the evening, as the stars light up the sky and God gains a new angel.

Ashton knows it won't be easy, that it will be months before that pain will become more bearable and that family lunches and dinners will be harder, that that empty chair around the table will be a stab in the heart every time.

But he also knows that you are strong, that you will be able to overcome everything, that sadness will turn into a smile when you’ll remember her and that, whatever happens, in a way or another, he will always be there next to you, just like your grandma used to be.

—

#5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin imagine #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x you #ashton 5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #calum 5sos #calum 5 seconds of summer #michael 5sos #michael 5 seconds of summer #luke 5sos #luke hemmings

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elysianslove · 3 years

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character studies; haikyuu boys

requested by anon(s); character studies for haikyuu boys that had been requested for my 1k Event around a month back! sorry for making you bbys wait so long :(

characters; hoshiumi kōrai, kuroo tetsurō, kageyama tobio, daishō suguru, daichi sawamura, asahi azumane, miya atsumu, kita shinsuke, iwaizumi hajime

synopsis;

the character’s general personality

the character’s general motivation

the character’s motivation towards you

the character’s love language

the character’s preferred dates

what kissing the character feels like

what being with the character feels like

genre; fluff

warnings; just some curse words!

notes; if you’re interested in other characters, check out my masterlist! :) if you requested for a jujutsu kaisen character and i haven’t written for them yet, don’t worry, i will!

HOSHIUMI KŌRAI

hoshiumi’s general personality; there isn’t enough of this cutie honestly :( but honestly, the more i read of his personality and see of him in manga panels, the more i love him. i hope i can put this in words: hoshiumi is scarily skilled, in the sense that when you watch him, you’re not intimidated by him, but rather, in awe. you can visibly see all the effort he’d put into honing his skills whenever you watch him play. especially because he’s so quiet and concentrated during games, making him a completely different person on court. as a person, i see him as being extremely reliable and having a really strong, but quiet presence. so that when you’re around him, he doesn’t have to speak to let himself be known, you know? also! i remember him being really offended when an interviewer commented about how good of a player he is despite his height, and i honestly understand it. no matter what he does, he’s constantly being reduced to just his height, and how that influences everything, but there’s so much more to him than that. of course, his reasoning behind joining volleyball and becoming one of the best in japan is a little silly, but he is driven in general, and very determined. but i also don’t think he’s smug or overly confident or arrogant about his skills, even if he should because of the ladder he’d had to climb to get to where he is. he’s confident, of course, but he’s not annoyingly so. he won’t rub it in anyone’s face, because he has peace with it, in a way? like he himself is aware of it, so there’s no need to get that constant validation from others. like i said, him on court and him off court are two different people: so yes, he does love being showered in appreciation and attention, but for him, not for his volleyball self. he knows he’s good at volleyball, but appreciate him for more than that, for more than being so good despite being short; appreciate him for being caring, for being diligent and hard-working, for being a constant, reassuring and uplifting presence in everyone’s life. as i mention in the motivation section, i think hoshiumi is a very curious individual, in the sense that he’s always looking for adventure, always looking for something to catch his eye, snatch away his attention, to leave him in awe, to leave him breathless and exhilarated. i don’t think he’s an adrenaline junkie, after having said that, but i do think he’s in love with spontaneity.

motivation; i think hoshiumi’s motivation is very simple, and it’s to better himself. to not have his inspiration and drive rely solely on to be a better version of his brother, to be better than his brother in general, but rather improve so that he can hone his own skills, so he can wow everyone around him, to be given the title of best spiker without a single comment on his height, to the best, regardless. to be the best just because he is the best. towards you, it would probably be his curiosity. like i mentioned above, i see him as really curious, so he watches you from afar, observes you, wondering how much more there is to you, wanting to learn more about you. he wants to learn of your interests and hobbies, whether they align with his or not, whether he can give you all you want or not.

hoshiumi’s love language; physical touch and acts of service. despite what i initially thought, i don’t think he’d be too into pda. he won’t mind kissing you in front of others, of course, because there is a little part of him that’s incredibly smug about being your partner. but then again, he prefers things like holding onto your hand, or linking your pinkies together, or piggy back rides. he loves to constantly be helping you somehow, and also consecutively feed into his ego a lil, so he’ll constantly be carrying your things for you, helping you cook by cutting up vegetables, or handing you ingredients, or helping you renovate your room at three in the morning. he really likes the little things that build up to shape domesticity between the two of you, but loudly, you know? as in the love he has for you is well-known: he’ll proudly wear your scrunchie on his wrist, or let you do a little make up on him and walk around with it. he’d tattoo your name on his forehead if he could.

hoshiumi’s preferred dates; the beach, hiking, theme parks, staying in and playing physically active games like twister, fast food drive throughs

kissing hoshiumi; really playful, and a little giggly too. it’s not silly kissing, it’s serene, but it leaves you feeling all bubbly in the way he wraps his arms around your neck and pushes you to him like you’re the only one that matters in this world

what being with hoshiumi feels like; baking with someone and making a mess with the ingredients, but you can’t stop laughing

KUROO TETSURŌ

kuroo’s general personality; oh boy here we go. okay so we all know provocative, smug, cheeky kuroo, yeah? and i firmly believe that yes, that really a part of his personality. there is a part of him that really is like that. a person’s personality is never black and white, and that’s exactly the case with kuroo: there’s a lot to him. it’s not just that at first glance he seems intimidating and scarily attractive, he is. but i think there’s a reason for that, and in a way, it’s a coping mechanism. kuroo is, deep down, a huge dork, and a really big nerd. but like i said, there’s nothing wrong with being both that and a little bit of an asshole sometimes. it’s just that i think there’s a reason that other part of his personality developed, and it’s a way to protect himself, you know? i’m pretty sure it’s canon that kuroo’s parents didn’t entirely get along, and it’s really easy to feel alone in situations like that, so that really suave and attractive and charming part of him developed so that he can attract people to him, so that he can have this pulling effect on others. it makes you want to spend time with him, lose yourself to the hours with him. that doesn’t mean kuroo tries to hold back his nerdy side, or that he’s ashamed of his funnier, dorkier side. if anything, i think he’s pretty confident in both sides of him. because just as that ‘cool’ side of him is dazzling, the louder, cheekier side of him is pretty charming too. on a completely separate note, i think kuroo cares, oh he cares so much. his heart is too big, if i’m being honest. he wants his friends to succeed, wants to see them be their best, is always pushing them to be better. he means it, he really does. he won’t say it out loud, but if you need him, he’s staying up extra hours for you, getting you your favorite snacks, being extra touchy on a day he notices you’re upset. he’s very aware of everyone’s emotions around him, and that might be because of his parents too, in which he’s become really hyper aware of any telltale signs, you know? all that being said, pair him with bokuto and he’s a crackhead

motivation; i honestly think kuroo always puts people above himself. i can’t explain why, but i just know that he does. make sure my friends are okay, then i’ll check on myself. push my friends to do better, and then work on motivating myself. watch my friends succeed before i look at how far i’ve come. being so proud of his friends, before he realizes how proud he is of himself too. so, in turn, his motivation would be the people around him. he thrives on communication and socializing and having strong, close connections and relationships with people. that is his main motivation. in regards to you, it’s a little different. i mentioned in one of my headcanons for him that he’s really suave and cool around everyone except his crush, and i stand by that, honestly. the only way to rid himself of that nervousness and endless amount of butterflies in his stomach would be to confess to you, removing that weight off of him. also you’re like, really pretty lol

kuroo’s love language; very touchy, very, very touchy, so it’s definitely physical affection and physical touch, with possibly acts of service. acts of service in that he notices when you stay up late to help him practice, or his own willingness to stay with you as you power through an all-nighter, or just silently knowing right away what either of you need without having to speak. he loves, loves, loves pda. he will make out with you in public, he doesn’t care, nothing can stop him. likes to have his arm around you constantly, or does that stupid thing where he puts his hand in your back pocket, or approaching you from behind and and hugging you and kissing all over your neck even if you’re in the middle of a conversation with someone

kuroo’s preferred dates; literally anything they’re all fun with him. fancy dinners or diner visits, movie dates at the cinema or at home, arcade visits, walks at the park, the beach

kissing kuroo; oh it’s breathtaking. it’s always really passionate, and always has you gripping at his shirt at the way he forces your heart into your throat, or the way he has your stomach flipping at the small gasps he lets out when he kisses you open mouthed, which happens more often than not

what being with kuroo feels like; like hugging someone you haven’t seen in years, where your arms are thrown around them tightly and they hold you to them and your heart is about to burst from your chest

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

kageyama’s general personality; the most misunderstood character :( he is not just an angry boy >:( he is just really, really passionate, especially about volleyball, and he wants other people to try and share that passion with him. he’s just really bad at expressing his feelings, and communicating with other people. like all it is is that kageyama loves volleyball, and he takes it very seriously, and when other people don’t, he takes slight offense to that, because in his eyes it just seems after they’re discarding or mocking the sport. that annoyance translates wrong into anger, but the place it originates from really is just pure. have you seen how happy volleyball makes him? he’s not a bad person, not by a long shot. and his character development too! it wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to communicate, it was that people weren’t willing to try with him. they took him for what he seemed like, not what he truly is. when he joined karasuno, they allowed him space to properly express himself, and they introduced him to what became a family to him. he learned to trust, learned to communicate. he’s not a bad person!! he’s just!!! a kid!!! he learns, slowly but surely, and he changes, for the better. okay but, completely different thing to mention. kageyama’s good at volleyball. no, he’s good. and he knows he is. he’s not really smug about it, but it’s not like his confidence is misplaced. he’s just aware of his skills, but he’s also aware of his flaws, and as he grows as a person, he’s more willing to take a step back and look and observe himself, to better himself as a player. i also think kags is insanely determined. like that episode where he studied his ass off just so he could pass and barely made it to the tokyo training camp? how does that directly translate into determination? he really is willing to put his all and more to improve, to play, to the best.

motivation; like i mentioned above, it’s definitely to become improve himself. it’s not that he’s never satisfied with how he is or his skills, it’s more that he’s sure there’s still more space for him to better himself, that this isn’t all that he’s capable of and that he can do better, that he can be better. like i said, it’s not that he puts himself down about not being enough, on the contrary; he believes that he’s one of the best, but that’s not his limit, there’s more to him, there’s more for him to explore. towards you is a little bit trickier, honestly. he honestly wouldn’t even know he has a crush on you until one of his upperclassmen noticed his reactions towards you, and they confront him about him to which he responds ‘oh, so that’s what that is?’ like he really is so clueless. i don’t think he’d have a full on motivation with you, he just wants to be around you, because he finds that he kind of does enjoy the feeling he experiences when he’s around you. it’s really as simple as that

kageyama’s love language; acts of service, absolutely, and, privately, physical touch. it’s not that he won’t hold your hand if you slip it in his, or he won’t return your kiss if you do kiss him in public, but it’s more of you’re the one that usually initiates these things. but! that does not mean kageyama isn’t touchy. he really is, a hundred and ten percent, touch starved. look at him! please! he is craving your touch almost always, he just doesn’t like initiating it in public, and occasionally he’ll take the initiative at home. but please, hug him, hold him, cuddle him, grasp his hand for hours, kiss all over his face. he absolutely adores it. and he shows his love better, takes initiative of it more, when it comes to giving. one of my headcanons for him i mentioned that whenever he gets milk from the vending machine, he gets you your favorite snack too, just because in his head he’s like ‘oh, they’d like that.’ it’s things like that with kags.

kageyama’s preferred dates; don’t do anything involving competitiveness he will go crazy. but things like carnival dates, or diner visits, or ice skating, or stargazing

kissing kageyama; really soft and sweet. it’s very timid and careful and cautious, but he always kisses you fully on the lips, his eyes fluttering shit, his hand coming to rest at the base of your throat, slightly on your chest

what being with kageyama feels like; falling asleep on the beach, sunburnt, with sand and salt on your skin, your body warm but the breeze cool

DAISHŌ SUGURU

daishō’s general personality; i feel like all the haikyuu boys have so much more to them than what seems as a front. like our introduction to suguru was him being this snake-like, manipulative character. i mean nearly all his and his teammates tactics against nekoma were related to manipulation. but why is he inclined to that trait? i don’t know much about canon him, but i like to think that he was kind of in the shadow when he was younger, and the only way he could’ve gotten people to listen or pay attention to him was being this unlikeable and intimidating character. but canon-wise, i think just as his manipulativeness is his strength, it’s also his weakness, and i also think he’s really aware of that, and he knows this tactic has its faults. i also don’t think he’s insanely determined, because yeah he was upset after the match with nekoma, but it wasn’t earth-shattering. from what i’ve seen with his interactions with mika, though, i think he’s very loving, deep down, and very subtly. he doesn’t show it outwardly, but you can see the way he looks at her, the way he gets so proud whenever she remembers something about volleyball. i don’t think he’s a bad person, per se, because at the end of the day, this is also seventeen, eighteen year old suguru, and there’s so much space for him to grow out of this. i think it’s more that he’s the type of person to prefer the easy way out, so he relies on things like getting on the referee’s good side. it could also be that he’s aware of his downfalls so he wants to have anything to his and his team’s advantage, you know? it’s not to say he doesn’t put in effort, because i still think he does, or even that he’s lazy, but it’s more that he wants something and he has a way of getting it that’s faster for him, you know? like i said, i don’t think he’s a bad person, at all. everybody has their flaws, and i think all the haikyuu boys have their own, it’s just that suguru’s is more explicit.

motivation; so like i mentioned how he likes the easy way out, i think suguru’s motivation would be to have high achievements. he seems like an insatiable person, one that always wants more, and more, and more, so he’s always climbing up higher. but also, even though he’s insatiable, he kinda? gives up easily? or not that he gives up easily, it’s more that he’s okay with a loss, or that he accepts defeat relatively easy with a shrug, as in “there’ll be more opportunities, it’s not the end of the world.” towards you, suguru would probably want to have you as his s/o to prove to himself, or to prove to others, that’s capable or worthy of someone like you. it’s kind of sad in a way, because in his head you’re way out of his league, but he makes it seem as a front that you’re just barely worthy of him when he asks you out, simply as a defense mechanism.

daishō love language; subtle acts of affection, 100%. you could see how happy he was to explain to mika all about volleyball, and how happy he was to know that she had been listening and actually putting in an effort to understand the sport that he likes. it’s things like that that really, really matter to him. listening intently when the other speaks of something they’re passionate about, remembering tiny details, like their favorite drink, or their go-to order at a restaurant, or something they’d mentioned in passing that they really wanted, or the way they prefer to sleep at night. that’s the way he expresses his love, definitely.

daishō’s preferred dates; visiting movie theaters, staying in, late night strolls on the beach, clubs/parties

kissing daishō; really, really slow and lazy, kinda lewd as well, in that it’s shameless, and loud

what being with daishō feels like; the feeling when you predict a plot twist in a movie or show correctly

DAICHI SAWAMURA

daichi’s general personality; dad. what a dad. such a Dad. dadchi sawamura. i think it’s very obvious that he’s a very mature character, and he easily fits in the role of a leader. i think him being captain is perfect, because he leads the team perfectly, and he knows all his teammates really well, and is able to respond to each of them correctly, knows how to motivate them perfectly. in that way, he’s a very, very reliable person. he’s someone you can lean on constantly, whenever, wherever. someone you can turn to knowing that your best interests are in their mind when he reaches out to give you advice. he’s someone that will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. he’s also not the type of person that considers the role of a leader and captain as a burden, not someone that thinks it’s a really big responsibility which he wishes can be taken off his shoulders from time to time. no, he appreciates the role, and takes it with all of its heavy weight. he’s really independent and mature in that sense. it’s not to say that he’s very stable constantly, because everyone has their moments, and although he really is unbothered by the responsibility, i think he constantly overthinks his decisions. maybe not so often, but it happens, because every decision he’s ever taken has impacted all of his teammates consecutively, you know? he has to think big, consider the big picture. but yeah, daichi is a very reliable and mature person. will it get annoying and will it have you begging him to loosen up every once in a while? maybe, but is he also very childish at times? yes. make sure to get it on camera though

motivation; much like kuroo, the fact that they’re both captains aside, he does everything for other people. it’s different though because kuroo puts other people above himself, but daichi thinks for everyone including himself. the only one with braincells. he thinks broadly, and considers all consequences for both himself, and for others. his motivation would probably be to see himself and everyone succeed and be their best, to see their efforts put into work, to be able to be incredibly proud of everything they’ve achieved. he really is such a dad. towards you, however, it’s a lot sweeter, and it’d be something like his infatuation with you. he’d want to be the reason for your happiness, wants to be yours, wants you to be all his. kinda possessive but like, in a sweet way.

daichi’s love language; confessions and domestic acts. daichi is unafraid to let you know he loves you, regardless of who’s around, or where you two are. he’s super okay with wrapping his ams around you randomly and just pressing a kiss to your temple and going “i love you.” he doesn’t know why he does it so often, maybe every time he says it, it reassures him. domestic acts in how he’s so comfortable waking up next to you, or how when you sleep over at his house you still get up and make breakfast, or how even folding laundry together is fun. he finds huge comfort in being able to appreciate the most mundane things, like doing the dishes or cleaning around the house, can feel so serene and loving with you.

daichi’s preferred dates; fancy dinners, mini golf, theme parks, road trips, driving up mountains

kissing daichi; weirdly, it’s not soft as you’d expect, more rough and possessive. he always kisses you like someone is watching and he wants to show you off, to prove that you’re all his.

what being with daichi feels like; listening to a love song and feeling nostalgic, even if you’ve never been in love

ASAHI AZUMANE

asahi’s general personality; oh i love this big teddy bear <3 that’s literally what he is. i absolutely adore the fact that he’s really intimidating physically, but his personality is the farthest thing from it; in fact, it’s the complete opposite. i have something important to include though!! in the same way asahi’s very fragile, especially his esteem, and the same way he guilts himself entirely and places the blame on himself whenever something goes wrong, he’s also very easily, and very steadily uplifted (as in, a win is a win, it’s sure and certain and it’s grounding), very easy to accept wins for everyone, not just take all the credit. when he spikes a ball and they score a point, it’s not a win for him, it’s a win for the entire team. that easily translates to asahi being a very giving and thoughtful person. he has a heart too big for him, and yes he’s an over-thinker, but that just means he’s mindful of others, very cautious and careful. although i think if you approach him with an issue, like you’re straight up sobbing, at first he’d be a little wary and anxious and awkward, i also believe he’d be exceptionally good at comforting someone after a few moments. his presence alone is comforting, but he knows if you need to be held or not, knows if you need to be listened to simply, or if you want advice as well, knows if you need comfort in food, or comfort in distraction. asahi just knows. and he’s definitely the one that uses that physical intimidation to his advantage when it comes to like, walking girls home, so that no one bothers them, or being in the same area as someone he knows that’s constantly bullied because just his figure alone scares them off. and my goodness, he’d definitely just subtly slide up beside a girl that he’s noticed is being eyed by men. he’s just... really pure.

motivation; i think asahi’s motivation is a little more personal, and it’s probably to believe more in himself. it’s to put himself in situations where his skills are tested so that he can improve, to lessen of his fears, to lessen of his self-doubt, to grow more confident and sure of himself, you know? towards you, oh my god. asahi would never approach you. he really wants to, because he really likes you, has liked you for as long as he can remember, but he won’t approach you, unless one of his friends threatens to do it for him. that’d probably be it honestly: he just chooses to embarrass himself instead of having anyone else embarrass him. at least he has a little more control in that former option.

asahi’s love language; he’s most definitely touch starved, so physical affection!!! he always wants to be touching you, even if it’s simple hand holding. he definitely links your pinkies together too! and honestly, i think he would like public displays of affection, even if it gets him really flustered. of course, don’t straight up make out with him in the middle of a public setting, but give him a little peck on his lips, or cheek kisses, or random hugs where you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest and press a little kiss there too. also!!! forehead kisses!!!! he always, always gives those!!!

asahi’s preferred dates; stargazing, beach picnics, park visits, nights in, any place he can dance with you to slow, serene music honestly

kissing asahi; it always makes you feel all warm inside, and always flutters the butterflies in your stomach. it’s not slow, nor is it fast, it’s just steady, but it’s pouring love and passion

what being with asahi feels like; being the only one awake at home at a really late timing

MIYA ATSUMU

atsumu’s general personality; i’m sorry if i bore you guys because fair warning, this bout to be long as hell. unlike oikawa, who i think has this charming, intimidatingly skilled attitude as a front, i think atsumu’s personality is just expressed or comes off incorrectly. as in, for example, he’s really sensitive when it comes to carelessness in regards to volleyball, but it comes off as selfishness and rudeness, even though the origin of it all isn’t his want to be rude. it’s not that he doesn’t know how to express his feelings either, because i know that his feelings are loud, it’s just that he doesn’t know how to make it add up, in a way? i also think he’s self-centered, yes, but as a defense mechanism. this is gonna sound really sad but it’s more like, “i won’t give you a chance to make something awful to hate about me,” and something like, “i’m in control of why they hate me.” also, there’s no way that never affected him. maybe as a child, it didn’t really cross his thoughts, because he’s always had osamu anyways, and he couldn’t really make sense of it all, but as he grew older, the more it became clearer that he wasn’t entirely likable, and that really took a toll on him, worsening his attitude towards people. people aren’t rude for no reason, you know? there’s always a place it stemmed from. he takes refuge in that he’s good at volleyball. yeah he’s a piece of shit, but his setting? no one can top it. he has that, and he owns it, and no one can take it away from him. i think atsumu’s one of those people where, over the years, you can watch and see their light dim, in a way. like he’s not a depressed person or anything like that, he just becomes less and less... bright? angrier, irritable, less inclined to trust others and let them in, self conceited. it’s also probably a result of being left out or rejected by others. but the thing is, atsumu is all these things, but he’s also childlike, and so full of love. you can see the way he interacts on the court, his dynamic with his teammates, the way he reacts to kita’s ‘get well soon’ bag. he really is just a ball of sunshine, but it’s all cooped up inside. it’s been buried underneath a mountain of self destructive thoughts and negativity from others. i also consider him a very impulsive person, the type to never think twice before anything, but that can translate into spontaneity too! it’s both a positive and a negative thing. atsumu is also very, very trustworthy person. in short, atsumu is very cheery once around the right people, in the right setting, but he’s so quick to shift into intimidation if necessary.

motivation; of course, just like osamu, atsumu’s main drive is his brother, whose been there since he was born. there’s no one he can rely on as much as osamu, regardless of their unbelievable competitiveness and their constant arguments. however, i think there’s a little more to atsumu. going off on what i mentioned above, volleyball is his safe haven. it’s something he can fall back on and be sure and certain of the safety net available. it’s not what makes him atsumu, but it’s a big part of him, a big part of shaping his personality, which is why i think constantly improving is atsumu’s other motivation. he can’t ever let himself go, you know? towards you, well, it was probably something really stupid honestly. you might have to play hard to get with atsumu, even though either way he’s gonna like it, but the chase? he adores it.

atsumu’s love language; acts of service and physical affection. he’ll save your favorite go-to orders for every restaurant on his notes app, he’ll blow-dry your hair for you after a shower if you’re too lazy, he’ll learn hairstyles for you, he’ll hold your shirt down as you take off a sweater so it doesn’t ride up, he’ll make you try food he knows you’ll like, he stays up on facetime with you after recognizing the telltale signs of you being upset, he’ll go shopping with you, giving you a thumbs up, halfway, or down for each outfit, he’ll collect notes for you if you’re off from school, and so much more. that’s how atsumu expresses his love; that, and physical affection. always touching you somehow, someway, with his hand in yours, or on the back of your neck, or on the small of your back, or on your waist, slipping slightly beneath your shirt, or around your shoulder. and he’s always kissing you too, either on your cheek, or on your lips, or on your knuckles, or on your wrist, or your temple. and he’s always hugging you, and i mean always, you’ll have your head on his chest, or his chin tucked on your shoulder. atsumu doesn’t say i love you, he shows it.

atsumu’s preferred dates; campfires at the beach, stargazing on a rooftop, waterparks, carnival visits (tries to win you everything but can’t do shit), bowling, drive throughs

kissing atsumu; really playful but always leaves you hot and bothered. he kisses like he’s trying to prove a point, which you can’t decide on, but it always leaves you a little breathless, a little dizzy, and even more in love with him

what being with atsumu feels like; leaving a movie theatre and slightly dissociating from reality

KITA SHINSUKE

kita’s general personality; omg i love!!! him!!! kita, as shown in the anime and manga, is a very methodical person. he does things the way he always does them, routinely, and he finds comfort in that. and he doesn’t do things for the end result, he finds satisfaction in the productivity he feels, in seeing his efforts play out, in it all adding up and building up to the end product. it’s not what’s produced that matters to him, it’s more what he did and went through to be able to produce such a thing or result. which is why i think kita really is confident in his skills, and that’s obvious and seen when he’s on court. it’s because he knows all he’s done and all the effort he’s put in to be where he is now, and he knows they’re not going to fail him, he’s sure of it. his efforts are his safety net. that relates to kita being reliable, and being everyone else’s safety net. he’s very similar to daichi in that he’s the glue that sticks the team together, the final puzzle piece that completes a set. he’s also exceptionally good at being a captain, not because he leads very well, which yes, of course he does, but he knows his teammates. he knows what they need to hear, and is unafraid of telling them so, knows how to handle them properly, individually, and as a group. he’s also insanely observant in that not only is he good at reading people and situations, but also at being aware of the position he stands in. he knows he’s not what could be considered a ‘genius’ at volleyball, but not only is he aware of that, he accepts it, and accepts it with grace too. he understands that not everyone is special, but that also everyone is special in their own way, and are built based off of what efforts they put. which ties into the fact that kita is really mature, making him a reliable presence.

motivation; like i said, kita finds comfort in routine. he never truly has an end goal, just that whatever is achieved from what work he puts in he’ll believe is worth that. kita’s motivation is his everyday routines. it’s waking up, making his bed, making breakfast, cleaning around the house, or going to practice, putting in the work, staying after to clean. it’s the little moments that make up his entire day, that add it all up, that really matter, that really are his drive. for you, it would be a really simple “i want to be with them.” i don’t think kita would sugarcoat his feelings, or try to deny them with himself, even if yes, he will absolutely get flustered. his motivation towards you is literally just his desire and want to be with you.

kita’s love language; everything, but subtly. you can see that kita loves you with the way his attention is entirely on you when you speak. you can see he loves you with how he moves your hair out of your face for you. you can see he loves you in the way he says good morning to you, a soft smile on his face, a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead. you can see he loves you in the way he twirls you in his arms when you slow dance with him in the kitchen. you can see he loves you in the way his eyes light up at the simple mention of you, or the fact that everyone is aware of his love for you, in that it’s not kita, but kita and you. kita loves you wholly, and he will say it if you need to hear it, if he wants to say it, but it’s blatantly obvious, spottable from a mile away, clear and bright as day.

kita’s preferred dates; pottery making, art classes, drives around town, grocery shopping together, fancy dinners

kissing kita; everything kita does is methodical except kissing. kissing is where he lets loose, allows himself to be a little more carefree, a little more daring. he always kisses you like he’s afraid of losing you, like you’ll disappear in mere seconds

what being with kita feels like; being on vacation and waking up really early at a hotel

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

iwaizumi’s general personality; iwa iwa iwa!!!!!! i know we all like to paint iwa in this mature light, like he’s the dad of the team, but the reality of it is iwaizumi’s just as much immature at times, it’s only that he’s the most responsible and least immature out of all of them. and he is! responsible that is. he really is, and he’s reliant too, but that doesn’t mean we should reduce his personality to ‘brat tamer of oikawa’ because, come on, there’s more to him than just that. iwaizumi loves, and he loves too much, loves too hard, he cares too much, cares too hard. his way of showing it is through violence, sure, and maybe he’ll be super aggressive when he finds out you’re not taking care of yourself, but will he go to the ends of the earth to make you feel better? yes, he absolutely will, no doubt, no hesitation in it at all. it might be a little bit of a flaw too, but when iwaizumi loves, he literally hands you his entire heart in your hands with the full expectation that you’ll take care of it. he strikes me as the type of person that always expects the best of people. he’s not naive, but he does always see the best in people rather than just immediately seeing the worst. i also don’t think he’s violence-prone, either. like yes, he will beat up his friends no questions asked, but he wouldn’t start a physical fight, nor would he provoke anyone to initiate one. the only exception is to protect or to defend his friends or loved ones. i feel like that’s a red line you shouldn’t cross with iwa, because he will abandon any inhibitions when it comes to them. friends and loved ones first, then anything else. so yes, like i said earlier, iwaizumi is responsible, he’s reliable, he’s strong and sturdy (i mean,,, both physically and conceptually ig), and he’s someone that you do not want to ever lose once he enters your life. not because he’ll hurt you or anything like that, but because the loss of him in your life is significant and it’s impactful. that’s not to say iwaizumi’s not an absolute child at times, considering he literally, canonically has a godzilla phone case

motivation; honestly? i think iwaizumi does things,,, just to do them. like he gets satisfaction of course, from achieving certain things, like being one of the top aces, or from getting into a really good university, because of his good grades, from having a clear career path, from having the body that he does, from being where he is today in general, but he never had a direct motivation towards the actions that got these certain results. like sure he got into volleyball because it was a fun sport, his best friend was in it too, he got really good, he stayed, and sure he has really high grades, because he needs to, but why? he just does. he does things because he feels the need to achieve, you know? that’s his drive, essentially. the need to feel productive and satisfied with his achievements. towards you, however, it’s more serene. he wants to get to know you. that’s it. he’s genuinely just interested in you, in what you have to say, in your hobbies and interests, and your favorite movie, and your favorite song or artist, and your favorite color, what your aspirations are. iwaizumi just wants to know you.

iwaizumi’s love language; domesticity and acts of service. iwaizumi will fall in love with you if you feel like home, if you give him that deep sense of comfort settling in his chest. yes he wants the rush of it all, of being in love, the excitement of loving someone, but he also wants the calmness that accompanies it, the sureness that tags along. he likes certainty, stability, you know? and his actions will always speak louder than words. every date he greets you with flowers, meets you in front of the school gates if he hasn’t walked you and greets you with a gentle kiss on the lips and a “good morning.” will he explicitly say “i miss you”? no, but he will appear at your window at three in the morning with a backpack filled with your favorite snacks and an extra hoodie for you to borrow. he loves you, he loves you widely and large, but you have to really know iwaizumi to recognize the pattern

iwaizumi’s preferred dates; go-karting, late night drives, concerts, the beach (but at night, including swimming), picnics at sunrise

kissing iwaizumi; i can fully see him being a little shy, especially at the beginning! his kisses start off really gentle, as if he’s afraid to break you, but overtime, they develop into possessive, and a little rough, kisses. still absolutely breathtaking though

what being with iwaizumi feels like; being in an empty parking lot, with music seeping through your car’s speakers

end note; this took me like three separate days omg. i really, really hope i didn’t miss anyone haikyuu requests for this past event. it’s closed now my loves, but maybe it’ll make a comeback soon! hold onto your request till then :)

excuse any mistakes made in this if there are! and thank you for reading! i hope you all enjoyed <3

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commxndr · 2 years

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𝑫𝑶 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀 𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑶𝑹 𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒?

𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐀𝐇 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄

“...In the trenches of love, Lukas could find no footing. As the world came burning down on the Vale family, it carried with it an ultimatum. He’d sworn to protect his family in any and every situation. He’d spoken it with a vow on his lips, one the duo sealed with the kiss of marriage and forever. The need to shield them from the chaos that was unfolding was visceral within him. How he then strayed, so far from the man he once was. Now in passing reflections, he saw a man unrecognizable. Who had he become? With their blood on his hands, who was he but a reaper? But a monster?...”

KNOWN CHARACTER PARALLELS PRE AND EARLY APOCALYPSE: JOEL MILLER (The Last of Us), DARYL DIXON (The Walking Dead), GERALT of RIVIA (The Witcher), MIKE EHRMANTRAUT (Breaking Bad), MARTY BYRD (Ozark), CHO SANG-WOO (Squid Game) PRESENT DAY: NEGAN SMITH (The Walking Dead), DR ROBERT NEVILLE (I Am Legend), THOMAS SHELBY (Peaky Blinders), WALTER WHITE (Breaking Bad), BERLIN (Money Heist), GERALT OF RIVIA (The Witcher), MALEFICENT (Maleficent)

FULL BIOGRAPHY. WANTED CONNECTIONS. PLAYLIST.

TRIGGER WARNING! —the following introduction contains potentially triggering subjects such as: homicide, child death, gore, guns, military, child abuse, heartbreak, cheating, violence and anger from a man. GRAPHICS CREDIT! —the preceding graphic is credit to destimnesia, as a psd discovered on deviantart.

STATISTICS

— GENERAL.

Full Name: Lukas Noah Vale Nickname(s): Luke, Captain Age: 39 Date of Birth: April 14th, 1983 Hometown: Los Angeles, California Pre-apocalyptic Location: Coronado, California Current Location: Chicago, Illinois Ethnicity: Irish, Scottish, English Nationality: American Gender: Cis-Male Pronouns: He/Him Orientation: Pansexual Religion: Atheist, Former Catholic Political Affiliation: Unaffiliated Occupation: (pre-apocalyptic) O-9 Vice Admiral in the US Navy SEALs, (post-apocalyptic) Rogue/Nomad, working intermittently as a clearer of the dead and construction contractor Language(s) Spoken: English fluently, Spanish, fluently, Russian fluently, French fluently, Mandarin fluently, Korean fluently

— PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

Faceclaim: Henry Cavill Hair Colour: dark brown Hair Texture: 2A curly Eye Colour: segmental heterochromatic blue, intersected with brown Height: 6′3″ Weight: 240lbs Build: Large in stature. Tall and bulky. Tattoos: None Piercings: None Usual Expression: Intense, indifferent Distinguishing Characteristics: Segmental heterochromia of the left eye: brown intersecting blue

— HEALTH.

Physical Ailments: Eczema Neurological Conditions: Undiagnosed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, undiagnosed Unspecified Anxiety Disorder Allergies: Penicillin, kiwis Sleeping Habits: Irregular, inconsistent. Generally non-restful with reoccurring nightmares. Eating Habits: Hunts regularly, sustains himself off bugs and game more than vegetation Exercise Habits: Daily conditioning where possible. Exercises excessively as a coping mechanism during times of stress. Previous wrestler (high school). Emotional Stability: 6/10 Sociability: Previously extroverted, now reclusive and distrusting Body Temperature: Hot-natured Addictions: None Drug Use: Previous drug use was recreational, will not use now Alcohol Use: Will not use now

— PERSONALITY.

Label: The Leviathan Positive Traits: self-disciplined, impassioned, protective, analytical, fatherly Negative Traits: stubborn, quick-tempered, unremitting, emotionally unavailable, disarming, disregarding, selfish, non-empathetic, narcissistic Fears: Deep fear of vulnerability, being loved and loving Habits: As a boy, he used to stargaze as a coping mechanism taught to him by his favorite nanny. Now, he continues to secretly do so, and has vulnerability hangover whenever he’s caught doing so.

— FAVORITES.

Weather: Warm/Hot weather Landscape: Beaches Color: Forest Green Sport: Wrestling, powerlifting Beverage: (pre-apocalyptic) Scotch, neat, (post-apocalyptic) Coconut water Food: (pre-apocalyptic) Baba ganoush (post-apocalyptic) Seafood, various Animal: Dogs

— FAMILY.

Father: James Noah Vale Mother: Maeve Aretha Nephus Upbringing: neglectful, abusive Sibling(s): None Spouse: Keeva Vale nee Ahamad, deceased Children: Opal Mirai Vale (5), deceased Pet(s): One female pitbull named Nova Family’s Financial Status: (pre-apocalyptic) Upper Middle Class

— EXTRA.

Zodiac Sign: Aries Sun, Capricorn Moon, Scorpio Rising MBTI: ENTJ Primary Vice: Anger Primary Virtue: Diligence

. . .

PRE-APOCALYPTIC OVERVIEW

TELL ME, WOULD YOU KILL TO SAVE A LIFE?

—CORONADO, CALIFORNA, 2019 THE CALIFORNIA NATIVE was stationed at work at the inception of the end of the world. Before mayhem brought the world burning to the ground, only top government officials were aware of the impending pandemic. At the time, foolishly underestimated, until it was too late. Lukas was a high-ranking NAVY SEAL, residing an hour out of his hometown of Los Angeles to be closer to base. A career in the military had proven to be a strain on his marriage. Today he was trying to block out thoughts of his wife, and how he’d been betraying her nightly with another person on base. How in love they’d been on the day of their marriage had slowly gradated into what it was now. He was more aloof. Closed off. He didn’t share with her like he used to. He didn’t hold her at night like he used to.

After so many deployments, Lukas was stoic against the terror he’d faced. One might have thought the near death experiences were enough to keep a man up at night, but Lukas had always been something of a machine on the battlefield. He’d risen in rank so quickly because of his ruthless, unremitting approach. It was kill or be killed, and he was still sitting there, alive, to ruminate over his experiences. That was what plagued him instead. He’d always been a protective man. His desire to do good in this world had now been shrouded by the blood on his hands. Within his mastery of the fight, he’d lost himself. How many lives he’d taken weighed on him nightly. He could never explain to his wife how their faces haunted him in his sleep, how he wrestled out of a nightmare and back into consciousness because he could hear the last cries of a man about to die. When the gravity of reality hit them. Most men became hysterical, and even begged for mercy, begged for their mothers. Now Lukas could not escape what he’d done in the name of patriotism. How little of a patriot he slowly eroded out of, and instead, became someone he could only recognize as a monster. In quiet nights, looking back at the man in his reflection, he did not see anything more than the shell of who he once was.

At the same time, his marriage with Keeva was turbulent and burning down. Eventually, he withdrew, and what little intimacy they’d been able to muster for one another went stale. They no longer held one another, or complimented each other, or even acknowledged the other’s presence in their home. Lukas began cheating on her with a soldier on base, but they’d brought a daughter into this world five years before the Infection began running rampant. She was his world, and where he could not find the love to give to his wife any longer, his daughter had become the sun in what felt like an endless night. The day he’d been briefed, she’d drawn him a picture and dumped glitter all over it. In a confidential meeting, Lukas was told that there was a dangerous infection spreading, causing people to succumb to what appeared to be something like the rabies virus, but worse. The government officials he’d been on that call with had made it clear—this was not to be taken lightly, even if they weren’t releasing the information to the public yet.

To realize they were actually experiencing a zombie apocalypse was incomprehensible. His wife wouldn’t listen to him when he tried to explain that she and Opal couldn’t leave the house anymore. They weren’t safe to leave the house. She thought he was becoming deranged, losing it, when he began boarding up their windows, and staking out on their front porch in the night with his gun. She thought the missions he’d been on had cracked something in him; made him irrationally paranoid. She wouldn’t listen to him.

As a second meeting occurred and they were urged, more vehemently, about the seriousness of the situation and that they might have to deploy SEALs to kill the country’s own citizens, the reality of what this was dawned on him. To consider killing citizens for being infected meant... this was not just some influenza. Deep in his gut, he knew what this meant. He’d ended the call business as usual, but silently had made his decision. Where his loyalties lied.

Lukas had jumped into action, loaded his vehicle up with gallons of water, and announced to his family that they were going to be moving into the woods, far away from civilization now. He planned to go AWOL from the military to protect his family, and himself, and they took the mind-numbing trip up into the middle of nowhere Washington.

It was here where his wife and him argued into the night, she called him insane, and told him she was taking Opal back to California—she was going to miss kindergarden and, they had a dinner with the Masons, didn’t he remember? She didn’t listen to him when he explained what was happening, the direness of the situation. She didn’t listen to him on the day she left their cabin and went into the nearest town to get fresh produce and cupcakes for Opal.

That day everyone fled the grocery store from a man who twitched and became deranged with anger. Lukas’ wife had fled too, but not before rapidly scooping up Opal and throwing her into the car. During the drive, Opal was afflicted with the same twitching, the same deranged anger. His wife chalked it up to her being in shock, and to being upset that she didn’t get the cupcakes she wanted. Finally, his wife was beginning to believe him. On the porch, she’d fumbled with her keys, as Opal screamed out her fury, until she suddenly bit down into her mother’s arm, vicious, breaking skin. The sound that erupted from his wife was what drew Lukas back, out of his hunting trip, and to the cabin. What waited for him there was not his wife and child. It was the shell of his family, the undead coursing through their veins. When he saw the change in demeanor of his wife, who he could recognize in any crowd but could not now, the SEAL knew what needed to be done.

First he’d tried to bargain with her, but she was incoherent with anger. She and Opal began advancing on him, and he bellowed at them to stop, to please, don’t make me do this, to please, I love you, please stop. Until they had both been flown back by the impact of bullet, struck from the barrel of the hunter’s rifle in his hand. He watched the blood of the two people he loved the most in this world splatter out of the back of their heads and onto the cabin’s outer walls. His decision weighed on him heavier than any other murder at his hand had.

What marked the end of the world was Lukas Vale disappearing from his role as Vice Admiral and killing his family.

WHERE IS YOUR GOD? WHERE IS YOUR GOD?

—CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, 2019 - 2022 He’d gone back to Los Angeles in search of that picture. They hadn’t brought it with to the cabin in their frenzy to leave the city, and now it was the last piece of his daughter he would carry. It was impulsive, and done in the daze of incredible grief, driven to pedal on metal by the need to rectify what he’d just done... but when he arrived to Los Angeles, what was waiting for him there was the end of the world.

Survival had made him hardened, but oh, how useful it was now. Two weeks after he killed his wife and daughter, a viral video of one of the infected hit the top of every new source. The apocalypse had begun, and now the entire country was aware of it. In the mayhem that ensued, Lukas found himself tapped into the most instinctual parts of him. In the following month, before the government shut down the country, he’d killed so many undead he stopped counting. He’d become ruthless. Shooting people in the street in broad daylight. The looks of horror he got when he killed another man’s child before him, because the child was infected... it made Lukas feel like the devil.

But he did what had to be done. And he would continue doing so until everything crumbled around him, and even then he would continue. He was relentless, and as the summer drew on any residual emotion he’d had had left him.

Still, somewhere deep inside of him, an echo of a happy and loving man, felt protective within his self-serving. He migrated across the country, and settled in Chicago, along with a traveler he’d picked up along the way: someone too defenseless for their own good. He taught them how to protect themselves, how to shoot a gun, how to skin an animal and how to fight like hell for their life. They became companions of sorts, and as they settled into their new shelter, ride or die for one another. The shelter in question was originally protested against by his traveling companion, but due to its structurally unstable condition, Lukas was convinced it was their best shot at both evading the infected and other travelers. Most would pass by the leaning, rubble of a building and decide against entering for their own self-preservation. Lukas found a way into a section of the complex that was blocked off by rubble, though it took dangerous climbing and maneuvering to get to.

Now he exists as Leviathan, believing he is larger than the life that he toes the line of continuum with. He has become detached, merciless, and selfish in this hellscape of a reality. Machine-like and boundary-less.

He’d sold his soul to live, but at what cost?

PRESENT DAY

Today, Lukas exists within the same mind frame, though he is deeply loyal to protecting the rest of the camp. When they must venture out into the undead, he leads with an iron fist, and does whatever he has to do to make sure they all return to the Observatory. Or, at least, as many people as possible.

In moments of downtime, Lukas spends a lot of time strength training and preparing himself for what he considers to be a never ending battle. He’s intense and unapproachable, and doesn’t have many relaxed conversations, but when someone can draw a smile from him the feeling lingers with him. Though he to date has never admitted it to anyone, not even his wife, he has a habit of looking at the night sky to calm his anxiety, and can be found stargazing in his most private moments.

In combat with the undead, he is unrelenting. Nothing scares him anymore, and when he comes face to face with his own death, he is a reaper of the infected. He stops at nothing, and sacrifices morality in the name of his own existence.

#infecto rp: intro #tws at the top - please head them!#tldr he is negan lmfao

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mrslilyrogers · 4 years

Text

Betrayal Part 7

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I redid the whole thing. We’re going to back up a bit in this chapter and visit the past. Please check the warnings before reading. Also, my requests are open. Send ideas if you’re feeling particularly angsty! Or even fluff, I’d like to try my hand at it. As always, let me know what you think of this chapter! For tags, please send in ask!

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Abuse, Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

2 years ago.

Bucky tapped his fingers on the table as he checked his watch again. 8:15. Forty-five minutes late. Again. He let out a huge sigh, barely able to hold himself from scratching his eyes out. The curly-haired waitress went back to him with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. My manager told me I really need to take your order now. There’s already a line waiting outside…” she let her sentence trail sheepishly. Bucky tried to ignore the heat creeping up his cheeks and gave her an unconvincing smile instead, reciting his order. When she left with visible relief on her face, he picked up his phone and called his wife again. He had tried to call and text her earlier but she hadn’t picked up.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sounding frazzled and irritated as she cleaned up after her rude customer. He just had the audacity to leave a mess after complaining and whining about the wifi three times. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling.

“Hey, babe. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you at the restaurant,” Bucky’s defeated voice on the other line replied.

“Oh shit!” She shrieked, attracting the heads of the other customers as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She had lost track of time. Bucky had been waiting for her for almost an hour. On their anniversary. Oh crap, crap, crap.

“Oh my god, baby. I’m so sorry! I’m understaffed and I lost track of time! Could you please wait for me? I’m so sorry!” She quickly took off her apron and changed into the dress she had brought with her that morning for their date. Bucky had been planning this. He arranged for Lizzie’s babysitter and everything, practically bouncing off with excitement for this night. He wanted to try out this new restaurant and between raising Lizzie and making sure Winter Bakery was still making a profit, they haven’t seen much of each other lately. She just couldn’t find the time whereas Bucky’s stable position in Shield gave him more authority to delegate. And he literally had been trained for this for years. All those late-nighters at the university and all the grunt work he and Steve went through have finally paid up. They were at the top of their game, one of the youngest to acquire their positions. They were heroes in the investment banking world. Life was easy for him now, cherry on top of the cake. He only wished Y/N could be there with him. But she was still on shaky ground with her business and he fully understood that.

“Of course! I already picked our appetizers though. They were trying their best to kick me out gently if I didn’t order anything,”

“Oh, my poor Bucky. You should’ve flashed them your smile, charmed your way. They would’ve made you stay,” she replied, fixing her ponytail, not having the time to retouch her makeup anymore. This’ll just have to do.

“Really, now. It was a waitress, you know.” He teased back.

A beat before Y/N replied in mock seriousness. “In that case, don’t you dare. I’ll be there in 15!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. See you, babe. I love you--,”

But before he could even finish his sentence, the line had dropped on the other end.

_______________________________________________________________________

1 year ago.

“Daddy, look, apples!” Lizzie pointed from her seat in the grocery cart. Her legs swinging as she giggled at the heap of apples on their side. “Yeah, baby, you’re right.” Bucky replied absentmindedly, not even bothering to look as he stared confusedly at the bunch of green vegetables in front of him. The list Y/N gave him said scallions, but how the hell was he supposed to know which was which? Scallions, spring onions, green onions, they were all the same right? He suddenly regretted volunteering to do their grocery shopping alone, having no clue what half of the list Y/N prepared even meant. It was the weekend, they were all supposed to go together and then have a quick visit to the toy store after, for one more of Lizzie’s birthday gifts. She had just turned 3 a week ago and he couldn’t help but promise to let her pick out another doll. When Y/N had given him a pointed look while Lizzie clung on and gushed to him, he couldn’t help but to just give her a tiny shrug. He grew up with nothing, he was gonna give his little girl everything. But that morning when he thought the three of them finally had time to spend together, Y/N couldn’t make it again. She was having problems with her manager and had to go into work unexpectedly. Now, she wasn’t even answering his calls when he had to ask her about the most complicated grocery list he’s ever seen in his whole life.

“Daddy, when are we getting my doll?” Lizzie asked again, looking up at him as she clutched her favorite white wolf stuffed toy.

“After this, sweetheart.” He answered, preoccupied and calling Y/N again. This time when she didn’t answer, he gave up, grabbed the one nearest to him and hoped for the best.

When he’s gotten halfway through the list and let Lizzie point at the snacks she wanted for school, he let his mind wander, when the hell had they become like this? He barely saw his wife anymore. Her problems with her bakery cafe, always dragging her away from them. He wished she could find competent people who would stay but if it weren’t her manager, it was her baker and so on. And if she was finally free, he’d be the one who was busy. It was hard and annoying but coupled that with taking care of an over-enthusiastic three-year-old, it was also exhausting.

He missed Y/N and he wished he could spend time with her. He completely understood that she was always needed at work. He had been through that in their early 20s, but they didn’t have a kid then to compete for their time and understanding it was different from actually living it. Their marriage had become stagnant. The banality of their everyday life, a stark contrast to how they used to be when they were just a couple of kids off college who rented a too-small apartment with his little sister, Becca. Time has flown and he’s finally achieved the life he’s always wanted; a big duplex apartment, a steady high-income job and a family he had always yearned for but never really knew he needed. All of the things he promised himself when he was younger and had nothing, he had now and more, yet there was still something missing. He missed the thrill of his life, chasing his dreams had always kept him motivated, distracted. Now that he had it all, he was at his wits’ end. Maybe it was because they were also growing apart, he could feel it. Y/N had always been able to make him happy and whole; he had always been able to rely on her emotionally. She was the better part of him and now that she was becoming distant, he hung onto her like a lifeline but his insistence on going on vacations as a family wherever his wife and daughter wanted went unheard, all his attempts at romancing cancelled.

Even as he lined up now for the cashier, he whipped out his phone to text her. His hands had been busy typing when a brooding, dark-haired man stood behind him dressed in all black. His arms were muscled despite his age and the sagging skin on his right arm holding a tattoo of an odd skull with tentacles extending out of it was barely covered by his shirtsleeve.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky,” a familiar husky voice mocked from behind him.

Bucky immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the voice sending a deep chill down his spine, making him go rigid as he slowly turned around, the blood draining from him when he went face to face with the man who had made his life a living hell, the man who not only broken him physically but in spirit as well. Repeatedly.

“You some errand boy now? I didn’t raise you to be like that, you know,” He continued to mock, tipping his chin to the cart with Lizzie still on it.

“Do you know him, daddy?” She asked, holding her little wolf tighter as she watched the stranger warily.

“Hey there, sweetie. Your daddy didn’t tell you about me? That’s weird. I raised him and your aunt Rebecca a long time ago. My name is Rumlow,” he flashed her a chilling smile, stepping closer to offer his hand. That’s when the fog in Bucky’s brain cleared. He moved with a lightning fast reflex, stepping in between them as he got in Rumlow’s face, fisting his collar harshly in one hand,

“Don’t you dare go near her,” his dark and low voice had threatened, dripping venom. His eyes had dilated, almost turning black as he shoved him hard. Rumlow’s grating laugh echoed around them, bringing back all those awful memories he had buried deep inside his head.

“I’ve taught you well, boy. Can’t say I’m not proud,” He clapped and actually smiled at him smugly. At this point, Lizzie had started crying making Bucky even more furious.

“I don’t ever want to see your face again. And if you go near my daughter again, I’ll make you fucking regret it. Do you understand?” His threats went on deaf ears as Rumlow broke out into a full-fledged grin.

“I’d love to see you try, James. You’ve grown soft,” He accused, eyeing Lizzie and the grocery he had still lined up, several heads already looking at them.

“Lucky for you. I have a new son here,” He continued, tilting his head to the boy standing by his mostly empty cart-- save for the beer and the liquor. Bucky flicked his attention to the boy and he felt his world spin as he saw himself in him with his eyes haunted, wary and afraid. He couldn’t have been older than eight. Rumlow smirked at the look on Bucky’s face, already detecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He had succeeded. He always knew Bucky was weak, his emotions his downfall. The fear and guilt clearly written in Bucky’s eyes made Rumlow gloat as he talked to the boy,

“What did I say, Bert, huh? You’ll only have food if you go get it yourself. Why are you still standing there?”

The boy looked around the big grocery store, mentally taking note of the stalls and where they were currently at, memorizing it in case he got lost but still, he didn’t move. Bucky looked at Rumlow and he saw the same look he’d always had directed at him before, his taunting eyes daring the boy to go or face the consequences.

“But I’m scared,” the boy replied, his voice small and frightened. Rumlow moved to him, bending his knees to get to his eye level. “Well then, you just won’t have to eat,” he told him in a hushed voice, pouting and mocking.

Bucky didn’t have to hear it to know the exact words, buried memories rushing back to the surface. He heard it countless times directed at him. The boy ran to the nearest stall, his heart pounding and hoping Rumlow would still be at that same spot when he came running back. Bucky knew the feeling, it was like he was living it all over again. As much as he wanted to help, he was rooted to the spot, even Lizzie’s crying couldn’t move him. Rumlow stood back up and faced him. “You were always my favorite,” he told him proudly as he pushed his own cart away from them, no doubt to give Bert an even harder chance of finding him.

Just before he got too far, he swiftly turned around, feigning innocence as he said, “Oh and by the way, say hi to Rebecca for me,” His lips twisted up into a sneering smirk as he left, whistling without a care in the world. And just like that Bucky was moving, grabbing Lizzie and getting out of that store as fast as he could, hoping Rumlow would stay out of his life forever.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m never letting you do the groceries again!” Y/N screeched, a horrified look on her face as she stared at their fridge. After the incident with Rumlow, Bucky had brought Lizzie to the toy store, allowing her to buy all the stuffed toys and dolls she wanted instead of just the previously promised one doll. They had gone to lunch after, he kept Lizzie distracted as much as possible to forget the man she had just met. When she brought him up again, he told her it was just a friend he didn’t like very much and that she shouldn’t bring it up to her mom because it was nothing, he promised he never had to see that man again. Lizzie seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her usual chirpy self. On their way home, they passed by another grocery store. He had mindlessly strolled the aisles and grabbed whatever he thought they needed, his head at a different place, much as it still is now.

“Bucky, we don’t need four cartons of milk, why would you even get this?” Y/N asked incredulously, shaking her head as she chuckled.

Bucky had been staring off into space, not hearing what his wife had been saying. “Uhm, hello Bucky, you still with me?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Oh sorry, what was that?” He asked, glancing up at her from his perch by the kitchen counter. The coffee he had brewed, now cold in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he waved dismissively. Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He’d been bugging her to spend more time together, planning outings and dates that she never seemed to find time for.

“Well, I finally have the day free. Why don’t we go out, watch a movie or have a picnic? It’ll be fun,” she suggested, draping a hand over his shoulder while her chin rested on the other, her elbow propped up on the countertop to keep an eye level with him.

“I can’t, I’m sorry, babe. I promised to meet up with Thor,” he moved away from her touch, standing up. Y/N looked at him confusedly, “Okay, how about after?”

“Gotta go over some accounts with Sam, sorry love. I’ll be back before dinner,” He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek before heading out. Y/N stared after him, brows knitted, before shrugging. She’ll just get her errands around the house done then.

After pounding the punching bag in Thor’s gym incessantly, Bucky found himself aimlessly walking around the streets, he just needed to clear his head. The little boy’s face was still etched in his mind as he opened the door to a bar. A little too early, he knew but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought plaguing his mind.

How could he have let that monster roam free while he had lived his life without even a glance back?

_______________________________________________________________________

Years ago.

Bucky held Becca’s hand as they ascended the rickety steps of their new home. They had just lost their parents and were now moving into an unfamiliar house. The case worker had told them they were lucky not to be separated and that they shouldn’t worry; they were getting a good foster father who would take care of them from now on.

“I had interviewed him myself, you see,” She told the children, beaming with pride.

“I couldn’t have found a better one for you guys, why, this area is still very close to where you grew up in. You could still visit your old haunts,” She ruffled Becca’s hair, trying to lighten the mood while the little girl just moved farther away, hiding behind her big brother. The worn-out door which at once might have been painted pristine white but now had chippings hanging off of it suddenly opened with a creak, a man with a charming and easy nature stepped out with a warm smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You guys are here! Welcome, welcome, please come in!” He gestured humbly to his house. Becca squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter which he squeezed back in return, reassuring her. There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. He seemed relaxed and easy-going, a smile continuously plastered on his face but there was a lethality to him that the children couldn’t seem to shake off, almost as if it was buried deep inside waiting to be unleashed. The case worker hung on his every word, giggling as they talked. She slapped his arm with the horrible looking tattoo that gave Becca a fright. The children barely moved from the sofa they were seated at after the introductions.

“It’s usually like this. Don’t worry. They start to open up after a while,” the case worker sympathized with Brock, the man who introduced himself as their new foster father; he would treat them as his own, he had promised.

“It’s alright. I understand. After my wife, I’ve been all alone and this, this is a blessing to me,” He told her as he turned to the children. Her hand strayed to his arm again and lingered there.

“Oh, Brock, you are a good man. They’re great children, they won’t give you trouble.” She replied, patting his arm for reassurance. It didn’t miss Bucky how she hung off his every word.

“But I should get going, I will check up on you in a week. Children, be good. You have my number if you need anything,” She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her blazer.

“Wait, you’re leaving us already?” Bucky couldn’t help the whine that escaped his voice. He didn’t miss the darkness that spilled over Brock’s face for a split second before he carefully put his smile back on again.

“I’ll be back in a week, Bucky. Don’t you worry,” the case worker smiled before she walked out the door leaving him and Becca to a stranger.

When she was out of sight, Brock had suddenly changed his demeanor. The smile on his face had turned into a scowl when he faced them. “Alright, listen up both of you,” he boomed, his voice cruel. “Grab your things and get on to your rooms. I don’t want to hear any noise. No running around, and if I see you making a mess. You bet your little asses, you’ll pay for it,” He stood up and left them to their bags.

“But Mr. Brock, I’m thirsty,” Becca piped up, looking up at him timidly. The man’s grating laugh rumbled as he threw his head back, shaking it.

“That’s Rumlow to both of you, you hear me? Don’t make that mistake again. Now, come here,” He said, beckoning both the children to come over. Once they reached the kitchen, he pointed to the high cupboard. “You see that?” He asked Becca, dropping low to get to her eye level. When she just nodded her head, he continued, “That’s where the glasses and the plates are. If you want something in this house, you go get it yourself. I’m not your nanny,” He held Becca’s face in his hand roughly. His fingers wrapped around her cheeks tight as he held her by the chin. Bucky felt his fists clench at his sides, pushing Rumlow as far as he could with his eleven year old might.

“Stop that!” He screamed. Their parents never hurt them. How dare this man think he could do this to his little sister?

“Oh you wanna be the man of the house?” Rumlow jeered, shoving Bucky back making him fall to the floor. Becca’s sniffles grew louder as she tried to stop her crying, her shoulders shaking from her effort. As Bucky lay sprawled, Rumlow scooted down menacingly to him,

“You dare push me when you were just whining like a little bitch a while ago, you wanna man up? Alright, I’ll allow it,” he taunted, pondering it for a moment before his sinister smile came back on. “Let’s see how long you’ll last protecting your little sister.” He gripped his face by the chin, fingers squeezing exceedingly tight on his cheeks before he pushed him off and he hit the floor.

“I won’t be some parent to you that you could twist around your little fingers, no. I’ll make you into the best man you could be. I will teach you about order. And order only comes through pain,” He drilled into him like a soldier as he stretched his legs back up, his measured steps going to the fridge to fish out a beer. He took a long gulp before he continued,

“And the sooner you learned that, the better,”

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Bucky sat alone at one of the benches by the field at his school, choosing solitude over the roar of the cafeteria after a particularly bad morning at home. Their foster father had woken up drunk and had haphazardly thrown things at them when Bucky accidentally burnt the eggs he had been cooking for his and Becca’s packed lunch for school. He picked on the peanut butter sandwich he prepared, not having the appetite to eat when he heard jeering voices from a group of boys and sounds of flesh being hit again and again with accompanying grunts of pain. He felt his feet move on instinct when he found them by the bleachers, a scrawny boy at the center of a group huddling over him, they were laughing as he tried to fight them off, not once being able to land a punch. The blood pumped in Bucky’s veins, a constant beating in his ears, as he grabbed the biggest of the bullies by the collar and harshly yanked him off the tiny, blonde boy now sprawled on the floor with his skinny arms covering his face. When one of the other kids tried to punch him, he deftly moved out of the way and delivered a swift blow to his stomach, making sure to spare his face so as not to get in trouble. That was how Rumlow did it, might as well use the same trick right?

“What? Who wants to go next?” He threatened, loving the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the power he had with defending someone so helpless. The lanky blonde boy stood up beside him, blood dripping from his mouth as he held both his fists up, “I can do this all day,” he said, catching his breath but his stance clearly indicated he could barely stand up straight. Bucky just looked at him weirdly, not knowing whether to find him stupid or brave. The bullies stood against them, unsure. Bucky was the same age as them, only slightly bigger. Him and the blonde boy were still clearly outnumbered but Bucky’s eyes held a lethal strength in them, his body coiled with unleashed brutality, ready to fight. The bullies scrambled out of there as fast as they could, their feet tripping over them.

“Yeah next time, pick on someone your own size!” he hollered before looking back at the blonde boy who looked younger than them but held himself with such maturity that it didn’t seem possible. He decided right then and there he was going to make him his new friend. Rumlow had always taught him about his belief of the natural order of the world, that strength and might always won the day and that order could only be achieved through pain. If you could inflict it on others, you were stronger, better. Weaker men were useless, had to be beaten up and put in their place. “That’s just the way of the world,” he had said. But Bucky was old and smart enough to see right through his facade. He was a bully, feeding off of people who couldn’t fight back. Bucky was going to be different, he wouldn’t bow down to his will. He just needed to protect his sister, spare her from the taint of Rumlow’s anger and prove that he wouldn't become the man Rumlow has been conditioning him to be.

“You alright?” Bucky asked the boy standing beside him who was touching the bruise forming on his forehead.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” he replied sheepishly, ashamed he couldn’t fight for himself.

“Next time, just don’t provoke them, they aren’t worth it.”

“But they were wrong. Bullies, I’d always stand up to them,” the blonde brushed his hair back from his forehead, determination steeling his voice. Bucky smiled, maybe he could learn a thing or two from this boy too.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Steve, what’s yours?”

“Bucky. Steve, you’re a little punk. You know that?” he said teasingly, laughing.

Steve grinned back, “Jerk,”

_______________________________________________________________________

Present

The light filtered into the room as the curtains were drawn back harshly causing Bucky to groan on his bed, flitting a pillow to cover his eyes.

“Buck, come on. Get up,” Steve’s firm voice spoke through the fog in his mind.

“Get out, Steve, I’m sleeping.” he replied, turning his back to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“How long are you going to do this? It’s been two weeks. Have you even talked to your family yet?” Steve’s judgmental voice rang out, hard and unforgiving.

“She doesn’t even wanna see me,” he huffed, anger at himself boiling in his veins. He hasn’t seen his daughter in two weeks. Y/N’s short, cold replies to his messages were just updates on how Lizzie was doing, anything regarding Y/N, he had no idea about. He didn’t even know what sort of excuses she made up for Lizzie, how his “work trip” kept getting extended. When the hell could they keep that charade up? He was lucky enough she was letting him talk to his daughter on the phone for a few minutes every once in a while. He sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey at the bedside table. These days he could only fall asleep when he’s had one too many to drink and even then, he’d still wake up with a headache that could only be dulled by alcohol. He barely even made it to work everyday. Sam had been good enough to cover for him, staying on neutral ground with everything that’s happening to his marriage although his eyes said otherwise, disappointment etched in them. All the while Steve had ignored him the entire time since the hospital. No amount of apologies moved him from his stance except today, when he suddenly barged into the hotel room Bucky has been renting like he owned the place.

“Jesus, Bucky, stop that!” He swiped the bottle Bucky held between his lips, splashing amber liquid on his shirt and bed.

“Damn it, Steve! Look what you did! Give that back,” Bucky held his arm out, his reflexes slow as he tried to grab it from his friend.

“Jesus Christ. You smell terrible. How much have you had to drink last night?” Steve fanned the air around him trying to rid the stench of alcohol and sweat.

“How the hell did you even get in here?” Bucky’s pissed off voice grumbled but one look at Steve’s intense stare with his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, standing straight as a drill sergeant, arms crossed at his chest with his muscles bulging out of his fitted gray Under Armour shirt; he knew. The punk had intimidated his way in. No doubt leaving a poor breathless, flustered receptionist in his wake.

“You could get that receptionist fired, you know?” He tried appealing to his best friend’s better nature.

“You wouldn’t tell. Plus, it isn’t as if she didn’t get a hefty tip. Go take a shower, Buck, you stink.” Steve didn’t budge, staring him down with a disgusted look on his face. Bucky just scoffed,

“And then what? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N kicked me out, man. Just go home, you’re wasting your time.”

Steve’s hardened face softened as he looked at his friend. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale as he scratched his wildly unkempt beard, his greasy hair sticking out on one side. What the hell had happened to Bucky? How had it gone so bad for his friend in a matter of days? He suddenly moved out of instinct, collecting clothes strewn everywhere and packed them into the suitcase at the corner of the room.

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky exhaled loudly. It was too early for this. Where the hell was his drink?

“Get your ass moving, Bucky. You’re staying at my place,”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #steve rogers #betrayal #marvel fic #marvel x you

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years

Text

housemates with shiratorizawa

helloo!! new headcanon series here hehe. i hope you like this very long set of headcanons!

how you ended up in a house with these guys:

they're such a tight-knit bunch considering the fact that they've been living in a dormitory throughout high school

it was probs semi or kawanishi who suggested getting an extra roommate to help with the rent (tendou and goshiki are accident prone they need someone to help pay for repairs)

so ushijima made and put up an ad for an extra housemate. although he didn't disclose the fact that you'd be rooming with 7 other dudes

you were kind of desperate for some housing at this point so you just went with it

the person who greets you at the door is shirabu. but its more like he saw you, your bag, and went back inside the house leaving the door open

you stood there for a whole ten minutes before kawanishi came up to invite you inside

you're instantly greeted by goshiki and semi cleaning the house like crazy. semi was punching a couch cushion so that it looked an extra soft pillow

tbh the only normal you see are ushijima and reon. they're probs the ones who interviewed you to see if you were a good fit as their housemate

despite how weird your first impressions of some of your housemates were, you were still keen to move in

and then that's when tendou decided to come home from the pet shop with an iguana

living there:

you're roommate ends up being shirabu because no one else wanted to room with him (jk they all drew straws and he was lucky)

he's a pretty good roommate: clean, keeps to himself, doesn't play music too loudly

except the fact that he ALWAYS HOGS THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM

the bathroom might as well just be his because it's FULL of beauty products. also shirabu takes a million years to get ready that at this point, everyone uses the downstairs bathroom

lmao y'all get your revenge tho by using some of shirabu's products when he's gone

its particularly you, semi, tendo, and kawanishi who like to do that

kawanishi: *walks past shirabu*

shirabu: bitch, did you use my fucking Splash of Pomegranate with Exfoliating Sesame Seeds: Rainforest of the Sun Bath and Body Works shower gel?

kawanishi:...no?

semi and reon are both roommates and are probably the most normal people in the house which is saying something

also idk why i feel like they both have a thing for scented candles but they're too shy to tell anyone

like,,, they have a closet full of scented candles and everything

reon: hey, want me to light up Spring Lake or Summer's Kiss?

semi: Summer's Kiss all the way

that's why they always keep their door locked and whenever someone knocks, they quickly snuff out the candle and fan the smoke out of the windows

you: whoa, why does it smell so nice here?

semi: ...air freshener

is kawanishi the only sane, normal person in the house? yeah, probably

he's the one who remembers to get groceries and buy toilet paper and shit and he's so happy he has you to help him out

the thing is though, he's a NOTORIOUS prankster. like, nobody suspects him because they assume its tendou who put packets of ketchup under the toilet seat but no, it was kawanishi

but his favorite person to mess with is his roommate: goshiki

okay goshiki is a Heavy Sleeper and one night you and kawanishi decided to draw criss-cross stocking marks on his legs with permanent marker

goshiki is an alright housemate. he's polite, does his assigned chores, rarely gets into your privacy

but oh my god every morning at 5 am he wakes up the entire house BY BLENDING PROTEIN SHAKES

you and shirabu considered soundproofing your room or chaining goshiki to his bed

ONE OF THE HOUSE'S GREATEST MYSTERIES: how does goshiki cut his hair?

tendou knows you've been dying to know why so one day he's all 'do you really wanna know?' and you're like 'HECC YEAH' and he takes your arm and brings you to goshiki's room

in there you find him with a bowl on his head and cutting along the rim with his scissors

shirabu is also with him but he has a ruler for his bangs

its the only time they ever get along

tendou and ushijima has hands-down the most chaotic room set-up

for one, half of it, ushijima's half, looks like a traditional japanese house

you know that scene in BNHA where todoroki was showing off his room? yes that one

y'all are like 'how was he able to bring tatami mats in his room?'

and then tendou's half looks like a weird-ass storage room complete with an iguana tank (yes he kept it)

tendou probs has those color-changing lights too

and the funny part about it is that both ushijima and tendou are completely okay with the set-up

also tendou has the most irregular schedule ever. like,,, circadian rhythms just wasn't installed in the being that is Tendou Satori

like,, he'll be making mac and cheese at 3 am and just enter your room asking if you want anything

you: WHY WOULD I WANT MAC AND CHEESE AT 3 AM???

shirabu, who's still awake because he's a med student: i'll have some

ushijima on the other hand has such a set schedule and daily routine. he's the definition of 'working like clockwork'

you guys even use him as your clock because why not?

you: guys what time is it?

reon: ushijima just left for his morning run so probably 7am

the only thing is that ushijima,,, generally doesn't cook??

and by that he likes to eat raw vegetables. no seasoning, no nothing

and he always offers to make people snacks and he does it so sincerely that you can't help but accept his snacks

*insert scene of you eating raw carrots at 11 pm while studying*

house incident: everyone being a closeted fan of Naruto

everyone in shiratorizawa is a closeted naruto fan (except for a few but we’ll be discussing) and no i don’t accept criticism on this

goshiki MAY have rock lee’s signature bowl cut and sometimes walks around the house in leg weights but he doesn’t say who he copies them from outright

but EVERYONE ELSE

you started having your suspicions when you walked into semi and reon’s room looking for a pencil and found semi sitting in bed with a pile of tissues around him and his laptop on his lap

you guys stare at each other for a while and semi just quickly yells “I WAS WATCHING PORN”

you: I DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE WATCHING

my boy semi was actually crying to that part in naruto when zabuza and haku died

his roommate reon on the other hand has a secret tattoo

it’s a sharingan tattoo and its on his back, just between his shoulder blades, which is why he doesn’t go around shirtless (his favorite character is itachi don’t @ me)

reon probably owns an akatsuki cloak too

kawanishi has an ENTIRE playlist of the naruto opening and ending tracks that he got from youtube and converted into mp3 format on youtube mp3 converter which he then downloaded and organized into a playlist with the album art when he was thirteen

sometimes you’ll hear him whistling Ikimono Gakari and everyone in the house is all 👂👂👂

tendou is the only one not lowkey about it but he’s not lowkey about anything he likes

and then one day you and tendou are in the kitchen and ushijima decides to watch tv while eating breakfast

while flipping through the channels he comes across the rock lee vs. gaara fight and he just decides to watch while eating

tendou’s like ‘wakatoshi? do you,,, like naruto?’

ushijima: is this naruto? it looks pretty cool

AND THEN YOU AND TENDOU JUST AMBUSH HIM AND GO INTO A TED TALK ABOUT HOW AWESOME NARUTO IS

while you’re busy ranting about it, semi, goshiki, and reon, who recognize the unmistakable Sounds of Naruto, creep downstairs

semi: oh, cool. it’s naruto

reon: yeah, used to watch it when i was a kid

goshiki: hmm, seems like an alright show

and then USHIJIMA LOOKS AT GOSHIKI AND THEN AT ROCK LEE AND JUST GOES

‘hey, you remind me of that guy’

AND GOSHIKI ALMOST CRIES

reon and semi end up sitting on the couch, trying to hold in their middle-school selves while watching

and then kawanishi comes in and he’s just like OH MY GOD NARUTO!!

now almost everyone in the house is watching. at that part when rock lee drops his weights reon and semi jump off the couch and cheer

they can’t hold themselves back anymore

last but not the least, shirabu, who came back from class, walks into the living room to find all of his housemates cheering and crying in front of the TV that’s playing naruto

shirabu: omg u guys are lame

goshiki, sobbing: WE’RE NOT LAME IF WE FOLLOW OUR NINJA WAY

shirabu: welL, OBVIOUSLY THE BEST FIGHT SCENE IS WHEN NARUTO AND ROCK LEE GO AGAINST KIMIMARO YOU UNCULTURED FUCKS

and then he runs up to his room before coming down with THE FULL BLU-RAY DISC SET OF NARUTO ALL THE WAY UNTIL SHIPPUDEN

basically you guys end up watching naruto all day and semi finally admitted that he wasn’t watching porn the day you came into his room

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh@charliefredb@dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts@applepienation@doodleniella

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dollyllama108 · 3 years

Text

OC Profile

No one asked for this but I saw @1esk19 do it, and my main takeaway from D.A.R.E. was that if your friends do something, you’re required to do it as well. If you're reading this, consider yourself tagged!

I’d again like to stress that no one asked for this. It counts toward my weekly screaming-about-Yuan time, is all.

General

Full Name: Xiyuan Shallot-Liu

Alias(es): Née Liu Xiyuan (刘希愿). Yuan (愿) is his nickname. Extrauniversal monikers include Ghost Rider, Ghost Boy, and Basically a Proton Pack. (There's also David, a shitty English name imposed on him by a shitty teacher.)

Gender: Male.

Age: 54.

Birthdate: Fall 14, 1966.

Place of birth: Sim version of Beijing.

Hometown: He'd probably consider San Myshuno to be his hometown despite not moving there until he was 32.

Spoken language(s): Beijing dialect, Standard Mandarin, English, Mohegan-Pequot-Montauk, Cantonese, Hokkien, French---but the Simlish dialectical versions.

Sexual orientation: Gay.

Occupation: Former professional violinist; current gallerist.

Appearance

Eye color: Dark brown

Hair color: Black

Height: 5′10″

Scars: None

Favorite

Color: Light pink.

Hair color: Dark colors.

Song: Changes frequently. Currently it's "Now / Later / Soon" from A Little Night Music. Along with theater, he prefers 20th-century French and 19th-century Russian composers.

Food: Even though he has a lean diet consisting of mostly legumes and vegetables, he also loves food that reminds him of his happy childhood in Beijing. Jianbing (煎饼) is probably his favorite.

Drink: Yuan has a high tolerance for substances and will drink anything put in front of him, as long as it's not too sweet. His usual coffee order is a 12 oz double-shot Americano with no room.

Have They

Passed university: Yes, with a Distinguished B.A. in Fine Arts.

Had sex: Yes.

Had sex in public: Yep.

Gotten pregnant: Dude, no.

Kissed a boy: Mm-hmm.

Kissed a girl: Unfortunately, yes.

Gotten tattoos: No.

Gotten piercings: No.

Been in love: Romantic love, three times; also loves his son and several friends.

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: Hahahahahaha

Are They

A virgin: Look, not only is he 54, this question was asked and answered in the previous section. Instead I'll answer which Spice Girl he is: Posh Spice.

A cuddler: Not to the same extent his husband is. He's married to a total spouse barnacle.

A kisser: Decline to answer; he does not like people knowing about his sex life---beyond the obvious, like if you're running around San Myshuno making out with a ghost then some things are kind of obvious.

Scared easily: Spectrophiles don't scare easily.

Jealous easily: Absolutely not.

Dominant: In order to not reinforce trope-y dynamics, I'll pretend this asked for his Myers-Briggs type. He's an INFP.

Submissive: I'll pretend this asked for his purity score, which is 23%. To put this in perspective, his son, who is the Sim universe's version of a sex worker, has a purity score of 32%.

In love: Yes.

Single: No.

Random Questions (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

Have they harmed themselves: Does hurting his hand punching someone count?

Thought of suicide: No.

Attempted suicide: No. 'Random questions' and half of them are about suicide?????

Wanted to kill someone: Nope, but he can get pretty vicious.

Have / had a job: His occupation was in the first bit. But if you want to know the craziest thing he's done at a party, that would probably be the time he bullied Diego Lobo into changing his suit and impulse bought a multimillion-dollar yacht in the span of one hour. Long story for an upcoming chapter.

Have any fears: Being abandoned.

Family

Sibling(s): No

Parent(s): Liu Fujiang and Liu Liwei

Children: Xishu Liu, born Spring 1994.

Significant other: Bernard Shallot-Liu, née Lord Bernard Escargot Shallot IV. Together since Winter 1999, married in Summer 2005.

Pet(s): No. No pets ever.

#oc profile #xiyuan shallot-liu #my OCs DONUT STEEL #my apologies for being like this

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nochiquinn · 3 years

Text

exandria unlimited episode 6: opals opals everywhere

ah they got her

how did I forget robbie has full sleeve tattoos

"questionable in all things" is my new twitter name

aabria leave this man alone

sparkly omar can stay

dorian no

opAL

"I am Aware of Purple"

did opal miss ted's extremely stressed tone or did aimee

or am I projecting

aabria throwing this hook full-force at aimee's head

don't chase the waterfall

shades of the cannonball competition in c1

A Rotten Birdsomething

the dad instincts are irrepressible

I Want To Go To There

"did you see the cat face?!" "that's not polite" Dad Instincts

"do you have time? don't answer that, yes you do"

DOG

ashley has encountered a dog, dog will now recieve scritches

GOOGAL I love him

please stop saying cow penis

googal bbeg

I was gonna mention the pressure point in the top jaw

"I have more opportunities to make this go bad"

lbr googal taking the crown would be the BEST bad end

"he's looking at you like you are a betrayer god"

poor bb

fuck I want frybread

opal

shakes dorian until his backstory falls out

yeah that tracks

What's A Tal'dorei

man I want a vat of stir-fried vegetables

hell is nausea while having delicious vegetable stir-fry described at you

BRONTE

Secret Royalty theories given credence, why would he be so cagey about the last name

where's that post about liam not being able to not fall for matt's characters

a little faun with the little fur and a little fire boy

I can't believe dariax had a parasocial relationship with tharla starr

dariax you can't just say that in front of people

matthew your dice. you're killing me.

dariax???

I do not mtg but my partner has roughly four million ygo cards that I need to place in this box thing immediately

is this going to be Meeting With the Bright Queen bad

this fucking dwarf istg

matt's face every time opal is Like That

dariax is doing His Best and I love him

I really enjoy this explanation of magic

can. can stress give you heterochromia.

opal :(

excuse

opal is just so refreshingly straight forward. "no, stop the mystic bullshit, just t e l l m e"

mala: happy sibling moments for everyone

like how are we going to resolve this in two episodes

can we have a season two? can this be a recurring summer series?

"that was robbie daymond sighing" he got what travis calls tv face

excuse

mala: webmd self-dx me: you have dart cancer

"I'm just giving you a moment to self-actualize before I KNOCK YOU THE FUCK OUT"

liam got his bisexual disasters mixed up

flurry of robes

they're stealing opal. jewel heist.

"be the cool one that's pretty"

"I was about to fight THE RULES" listen I'm trying to get a tiny oneshot together for the child and I 100% expect this exact attitude

"YOU DUMB DWARF" (affectionate)

robbie is so fucking relateable. that kind of "what-if" freeze-up is my biggest fear of playing any tabletop

please give me princess mononoke but on fire

"to my girl" 👀

rip dorian

"not going according to plan" "not according to YOUR plan"

I need that animated

I would assume the dart hit fy'ra's hair and burned up

the "I apologize" is my favorite reference

(it has also permeated my house)

welp I wanted princess mononoke

I would both die and kill for dariax

My Monkness

y'all it's 2:30. mercy.

SEE YOU NEXT THURSDAY

jfsk liam's instinctive counterspell

the head the size of orym's whole torso

what? no! give her back.

"not all family is blood. much family is chosen."

"I would do anything for my friends" DORIAN

"there is something extremely special about him" as matt/dariax picks his nose

“you played TWO different beautiful women!!”

“head juice” “I’m gonna cry bc that was so gross”

PLEASE let “see you next thursday” become a Thing

for brian if no one else. it feels like brian’s brand.

LEAVE TED ALONE

#critical role #exandria unlimited #spoilers #liveblog #reaction post #crititag #exutag

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crowdedimagines · 4 years

Text

Happy Ending - Harry Styles

friends to lovers 3.1K 🤩

The long line doesn’t turn me away from my favorite coffee shop. I know it’s worth the wait, I’m sure the warm weather is what’s bringing everyone in so suddenly. I’m in no rush, I just got out of class and all I have waiting for me at home is homework and some vinyls demanding to be played.

I can feel a presence behind me as the line continues to grow behind me.

“Would it make me a complete narcissist if I ask you if that tattoo is related to me?” A voice calls in my ear softly. I turn to meet the face of the man who created the idea behind the tattoo himself. Harry Styles. I follow his eyes as he looks down to the small T P W K printed on the back of my arm in a minimalistic font.

“Yes it would, but that doesn’t mean you would be wrong.” I grin, turning back away from him. Partially so he doesn’t see my blush and so I can try to somewhat maintain my cool. I never thought Harry Styles would actually see my tattoo.

His grin reaches all the way across his face.

“Well in that case I’m flattered.” He hums his eyes drifting to the menu board on the wall.

“You should be, it was my first.” We both laugh.

“Have you ever come here before?” He asks, continuing the conversation.

“Yes, it’s my favorite little spot in L.A.”

“Got any recommendations for a drink?”

I go over a few different drinks with him explaining why I like them. I give him a few options because I honestly don’t know what he likes. Does he want something hot? Iced? Blended? I’m definitely overthinking this, but at least I’m giving him a variety of things to try if he ever comes back.

“Which are you getting?”

I respond with the first drink I started telling him about. He takes a sidestep around me, bypassing me to the register. I didn’t even realize I was next. He orders two of my drinks and pays for them.

“It’s the least I can do for a fan.” He says after I thank him. We both move over to the other end of the counter to wait for our drinks. It looks like the rush might be slowing down.

“So what brought you here? I’m guessing it’s because there’s no way you could ever step foot in Beachwood Cafe ever again.” I tease.

“Yeah, I can’t go there. Not like I used to at least, but I have to say depending on the coffee this place might become my new spot.”

“It’s not usually this busy either. I think it’s the spring fever bringing everyone out today.”

Once we get our drinks he follows me to a table by the window.

“You don’t mind, right?” He pulls out his chair.

“Not at all, I am a bit confused though.”

He nods for me to continue while he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I don’t think you hangout with every fan you meet. Especially not in a public place like this. So what gives.”

He snorts softly at my blunt question, but I had to know. It was secretly eating away at me, why would he choose me to spend his time with?

“Since we’re speaking bluntly,” He pauses to lean forward on his arms on the table, “I feel drawn to you. You seem like someone I would enjoy spending time with. I don’t typically pass that sort of thing up.”

“You want to spend time with me? What if I’m some crazed fan?” I grin. It’s weird how comfortable I feel around him. I feel like I already know him, but somehow he’s welcomed me in. Our conversation comes with ease.

“Trust me, if that were the case I would’ve known by now. I wouldn’t have engaged any further.” He laughs.

“Wow, so that’s how it is. You decided I’m probably not delusional?”

“You can never be too careful.” He shrugs, “Plus I needed to get to know the girl who got a tattoo after one of my songs.”

“Actually I got it before the song.” I correct with a laugh, “I liked the message when you came out with it as part of your brand. Treat people with kindness is a good thing to remember. The fact that you created a song for it is just a bonus.”

We sit and talk for nearly a half an hour. I never thought I would be able to keep myself focused and composed, but after the first minute you realize he’s just a human. The conversation flows easily, never an awkward lull.

“Well, I actually have to go. I have so much work I need to do and I wasn’t planning on staying when I ran in here.”

What am I doing? How often do you get to sit and talk with Harry Styles? Homework can wait!

“Yeah, I should probably be going too.” He gets up and we walk slowly towards the door, he holds it open for me and we’re greeted with a warm breeze.

“Well it was really nice to talk to you. Get to know the man behind the music a little better.” I smile, his cheeks tint pink.

“You too. It was nice to get to know the girl behind the tattoo a little better as well.”

“Have a nice day, Harry.” I smile and turn to walk away.

“Y/n, wait.” His voice calls, saying my name out loud for the first time. I turn around to see he’s taken a few large steps to catch up. “Can I ask for your phone number? I don’t want this to be the end of our story.”

My heart starts racing at his words.

“And what exactly do you want to be the end of our story?”

“I’ll let you know once we’re there.”

It’s been nearly four months since I first met Harry. After I gave him my number that day it’s been nonstop communication. Him calling while he travels far away, texts between my classes and his meetings, but my favorite are when I actually get to see him.

“Harry!” I yell, letting myself into the unlocked house.

Still no answer.

“Harry!” I call again as I kick off my shoes and set down my bag, “You know as a big time celebrity you really shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked.”

Still no answer.

I let myself wander around trying to find the boy I’ve grown so close with. His large Malibu home leaves plenty of places for him to be. I check the kitchen, living room, dining room, and his office before I go upstairs. In hindsight, his bedroom should’ve been the first place I looked once he wasn’t answering.

“Hey.” He calls from inside his walk in closet.

“Hi.” I groan, letting myself fall back on his bed.

“Long day?” He asks, coming out as he pulls a shirt on over his head.

“Yeah, just a presentation I need to do next week was assigned today. It’s going to suck, I’m already dreading it.”

He walks over and throws himself down on the bed next to me, laying parallel while we both stare at the ceiling.

“I’m sure you’ll smash it. What has you dreading it?”

“It’s just with the worst professor, he’s known for making students cry on the spot. He literally has the worst reputation on campus. He interrupts you and corrects you, announcing your points off as you go. He’s insane.”

“That sounds awful. Can he really do that?”

“I don’t know, I think so. I’ve only ever heard horror stories.”

“Well since you’re in such a shit mood, I’ll let you pick the movie.” He holds out a hand to pull me up off the bed.

“Hey, I’m not in a shit mood!” I grumble.

“You came in all mopey.” Harry teases.

“I’m not mopey.” I roll my eyes, “You asked me what was wrong, so I told you.”

“I know, now let's go make dinner.”

He presses a fast kiss to my cheek before he places a hand on each shoulder with a squeeze, leading me out of his room and down the stairs. It’s brief moments like these where I question our friendship. If that's what you can call it. He is by far the touchiest and most cuddly friend I’ve ever had. Not that I mind, I just wish there was the tiniest bit more clarity to the situation.

“Pasta?” He asks, opening his cupboard and looking around.

“Yes!” I cheer.

It’s been a tradition of ours for two months now that if he’s in town we have a movie night which consists of us making a meal from scratch beforehand.

“Have you ever made homemade pasta before?” I ask, reaching for the flour and other ingredients I know we’ll need.

“Twice. Both times I think I made Gem do all the work.”

I roll my eyes muttering a ‘sounds about right’.

“What was that missy?” he asks, bumping his hip into mine.

“Nothing.” I grin.

“Hmm sounds like you said something, love.” His voice just a whisper in my ear. His breath is warm against my face, raising goosebumps everywhere else on my body. Before I can even move a muscle, he’s gone to grab something on the other side of the kitchen. Unfazed by his actions.

Harry puts on some music and we both get to work. The dough is setting up in the fridge while we cut vegetables and prepare other things we’ll need.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve never really made pasta before, but you have a pasta maker?”

“Yeah, so what?” I roll my eyes.

I throw some flour on the counter so I can roll out the dough so cut into strips to run through the machine. Harry grabs his phone, busy finding a new playlist to listen to. I grab a small pinch of flour and throw it at him. The front of him is now powdered white.

“You did not just do that.” He mutters quietly as he looks down to his now white shirt.

“Hmm, sounds like you’ve said something, love?” I echo his words back to him. He tries to cover up his grin, but fails.

“What happened to treating people with kindness?” He asks, “You like it enough to get it tattooed on ya, but ya can’t even be nice to me.”

I let out a laugh, my tattoo has been something he enjoys teasing me about. He likes to hold it over my head that before we became friends I was a fan.

“You’ve just started a war.” He sets down his phone and takes a few steps closer, I take steps back until I meet the kitchen island. Harry reaches behind me and takes a handful off the counter.

“Now Harry, that’s way more than I did.” I remind, seeing his fistful of flour hanging over me.

“Who said I’m trying to get even?”

Without another second he opens his hand, letting flour rain down on me. I duck and try to avoid as much as I can, which is a failure. I can tell I must look ridiculous by the way Harry starts laughing.

I brush it off my face with as much grace as I can.

“That was a mistake.”

“Oh was it now? Because to me it seems to me you are the one coated in flour right now.”

“That’s about to change.”

We both tear off chasing after each other. Mainly me chasing Harry because I have the flour bag in hand. Miscellaneous vegetables fly through the air as we target each other. We both manage to douse the other a few more times in flour before he finally catches me by my waist. I let out a scream as he picks me up off the ground.

“Truce?” He asks.

“Truce.”

He puts me back down and I can finally get a good look at the damage. His cabinets and the floor are splattered with flour. Each step we take, more falls off of us. Bits of carrots, broccoli, and tomatoes all over the floor.

“Okay, you call for pizza and I’ll start cleaning this up.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Harry agrees, he grabs his phone.

I grab the broom and start cleaning everything up. I wipe down the counter and the other spots that were hit.

“Alright pizza will be here in thirty minutes.” Harry announces coming back in.

“That’s perfect because we both need a shower.”

I pull my shirt off over my head and fold it in on itself to avoid sprinkling it anywhere else.

“So you plan on doing that right here?” He asks teasingly?

“No.” I roll my eyes, “We are literally dripping flour, I just cleaned this up. I’m not tracking this all over the house again.”

I walk to his laundry room and take off the rest of my clothes, leaving me in my bra and underwear, Harry follows me in realizing I was right. I catch his eyes on me a few times which makes me realize he’s never seen me in this little clothing. We’ve been close for months, but never without clothes.

“You can take the shower in the guest room, that one should have some towels and shampoo and whatnot.” Harry informs as I follow him upstairs.

“Thanks.”

The shower was nice, and much needed. I could get used to showering here. The water was truly hot and the water pressure was insane. Even his guest bathroom shower could fit at least two of the one in my apartment. I’m drying myself off when there’s a soft knock at my door. I wrap the towel around me tightly before opening it.

“Here. I thought you might need something else to wear.” Harry hands me a stack of clothes that I know belong to him.

“Thanks.” I smile.

He pushes wet curls back, running a hand through them.

“The pizza just got here.”

“I’ll be right down.”

I look over the sweatshirt and a pair of boxers that he gave me. I’ve worn an outfit similar a few times here when I’ve slept over when I wasn’t planning on it. It’s all so soft and it smells like him.

“So what’s your pick?” He asks, going over the movie selection. I decide on a rom-com that we surprisingly haven’t watched together yet.

We both eat our pizza before wanting to shift. Harry lays down the length of the couch and I tuck myself next to him. His arm resting on my waist as we share a pillow.

“I can’t believe it’s been how long and we haven’t watched Sweet Home Alabama.” I grin, “It’s a classic.”

“I didn’t know it was one of your favorites.” He comments, looking down at me. It takes me a second to not get lost in his green eyes.

“Yeah, I just love a happy ending.”

“Me too.”

We continue to watch the rest of the movie for a while in comfortable silence. I think for some reason Harry’s nervous. Two minutes ago he moves his hand to my hip, I don’t think he knows that he’s tapping on it.

“Har, are you okay?” I look over my shoulder.

“Hmm?” He looks down.

“Are you alright?” I ask, “You’re tapping.”

He follows my gaze down to his hand and he stops immediately.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

“It’s alright, are you okay? Do you need to talk about something?”

I can’t figure out where this is coming from. I have only seen him look this anxious a few times.

“Yeah, I do actually.” He sits up, pulling me up with him. I turn to face him, he reaches for the remote to turn down the volume of the movie.

“I’m all ears, H.” I reach out my hand to him.

He smiles looking at our connected hands and takes a deep breath.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. I know we’ve been friends for months, but I would be lying if I said that that’s all I want for us. I have never felt this way about someone before, since I met you. I knew that you were someone I needed to know. And now that I know you, I want to know all of you, Y/n. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I just needed to tell you. I think that you’re worth how scary this is right now. I really love you, Y/n.”

He lets out a long sigh once he’s done. A visible weight lifted off his shoulders.

“I love you too, Harry.” I grin. “I have loved you since before I even knew you, and now that I do I love you even more. It’s hard to believe there was ever a time where you weren’t in my life.”

I pull him down on top of me in a bone crushing hug as we fall back on the couch.

“Thank god.” He mutters into my hair.

I let out a laugh and rub up and down his back.

“Will you please be my girlfriend?” He sits up, pulling away slightly to get a good look at me.

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“Deal.”

He litters my face with kisses, all except the one place they’ve never been.

“Hey.” I grab his attention, pulling it from the kiss he was planting on my forehead, “If I’m your girlfriend now, I want a real kiss.”

“I think I can manage.”

He brings his head down, I bring my hand up to his jawline. I run it up until I hit his hair, giving it a good tug. I guide his face towards mine until our lips finally meet. I can feel we’re both smiling right now, until we deepen it. Just enough to last a few seconds and get a taste of what we’ve both been craving for months. I would have to say it’s a perfect first kiss.

We both snuggle back in the way we were laying previously. The only difference is we both have goofy grins now that are impossible to wipe off.

“So, is this the ending you wanted for our story?” I ask after a few minutes of watching the movie, turning over my shoulder to look at him. I could never forget what he said the first time we met.

“You want to know what our ending will be?” I nod eagerly, he reaches out to brush a piece of hair away from my face.

“Our ending will be us, old and wrinkled on the beach somewhere. Kids. Grandkids. That’s what I want to be our ending.”

“I think I like our ending.” I peck my lips against his.

“Me too.”

please let me know what you thought below! love feedback xoxo

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

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nolongerironicteenwrites · 3 years

Text

three years pt 2

read it here or on my Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolongerironicteen/works or read my other works too

You put your car in park and sighed. Finally, you were home after longer than you wanted to admit. But you were happy nonetheless. Which meant you were finally going to address the elephant in the room with Neji. Instead of texting till three am you could finally discuss what you were. You looked at your parents' house in front of you as you got out of the car.

“(Y/N)!” your mom called from the open kitchen window.

You smiled wide and you trekked up the driveway. The house was quiet save your mom’s washing in the kitchen. You found your way in there and gave her a huge hug.

“Where’s dad?”

“In the backyard, he’s doing some gardening and collecting the vegetables for me. You can go see.”

You figured unpacking your car can wait for later. You wanted to go see your dad. You kissed your mom on the cheek before going outside. You were thrown through a loop to not see your dad, but see your friends all there.

“Welcome home!” they shouted.

You doubled back smiling before rushing to hug them all. You were overwhelmed. You might have only seen them like two weeks ago you were happy to be home. Even if it was only a little while.

“We missed you.” Naruto laughed pulling you in for another hug.

“We saw her like a week ago?” Sai replied, confused.

You ruffled Sai’s hair when a set of arms wrapped around your middle. You tensed up before smelling the familiar smell of cigarettes.

“Traitor.”

“For?” Shikamaru asked.

“Dating my keyboard player. Smoking. Or where you spending time with Azuma seeing your godchild?”

“The latter.”

You rolled your eyes and he let you go but not without rubbing his cheek to yours and pulling away. You huffed and backed away. You didn’t get far before bumping into something cold. A set of hands-on the back of your elbows.

“You got a tattoo?”

Neji.

You spun around and checked out the inside of your elbow blushing.

“I uh yeah. I have four actually.”

He looked impressed. Not deterred, he grabbed your arm and saw the grl pwr tattoo on the inside of your elbow. You and Temari have matching ones since you two were two women who basically front a band. You have three others. You have a paper airplane on the back of your shoulder, a galaxy piece on your side, and on your thigh, there was a storm cloud that under a UV or blacklight made the lighting bolt shine. Neji smiled at you. You heard someone gag behind you. You had the vaguest feeling it was Kiba. You turned around and pulled your eye and stuck your tongue at him. He hugged you and you laughed.

You spent the afternoon with your friends and parents until you were nearly falling asleep where you sat. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you let yourself relax against Neji. The night grew colder and the party moved inside. It quickly became a quiet night after that, movies and drinks and crashing on the couch. Well you crashed on the couch everyone else went home to Shikamaru’s to get their car or ride home. Neji once everyone was ready to go brought you to your bedroom and kissed you goodnight before leaving.

“Are you going to ask her?” Lee asked.

“Ask her what?” Sai asked guiding Ino to Shikamaru’s.

“Ask (Y/N) out properly.”

Neji glared at Lee and pulled his jacket closed. He ignored the question which Shikamaru didn’t like. He imposed himself over Neji but Neji was just slightly, only slightly taller. Shikamaru crossed his arms and glared. Which in itself is nerve-inducing.

“Well, Neji what are your plans with my best friend?”

“If you must know, I like her. Clearly. So I wish to ask her out.”

“Hurt her and your ass is mine.”

“I don’t like you like that at all but I would never, I’m not Koma.”

Shikamaru gave one glare and then nodded. Neji waisted until he looked away to silently release his breath.

“There’s your answer Lee. Be safe getting back you guys text the group when you all make it back home.” Shikamaru waved before going inside.

Neji gathered Hinata, Naruto, Lee, and TenTen and headed to everyone’s respective homes. He and Lee lived together, Hinata and Naruto lived together, and TenTen lived in the same building at Neji and Lee. Neji didn’t let anyone talk on the car ride back. He didn’t wish to speak about his love life with anyone anymore. Once in the comfort of his own apartment he let his hair down and groaned.

“Neji- I’m sorry. You guys were just so cozy.”

“Lee I’m not upset with you. I mean you were just speaking about what you saw.” Neji replied while pulling off his jacket. “She’s back for a year while some of her bandmates finish school. I have time but no time when I can’t even talk to her about my feelings!” Neji flopped onto the sofa neglecting to take off his shoes.

“You could talk maybe Guy and Kakashi-sensei.” Lee sat by him.

Neji didn’t hate that idea. It would have been better than talking to his own father. Not that he didn’t want to, but he didn’t think his dad could help. His mom made the first move on his dad. But with Guy-sensei it was an accident with him and Kakashi but probably better advice than his father so maybe Lee was onto something there.

menace to sobriety

the boulder

Neji and I are home.

tippy

As am I.

eyes

Naruto and me too.

glasses

Kiba is drunk on the floor of his house crying to Akimaru about the boy in facepaint?

fur culture

traitor!

pencil ****

Ino and Sakura are trying to dye their hair.

*eye roll*

They’re getting along?

pencil ***

sauske isn’t here to fight over. i'm on watch duty..

omnipotent friend

dont let them make bad choices they’ll regret in like 5 minutes.

*eye roll*

or you could.

omnipotent friend

ill remove you

*eye roll*

not ur chat

fur culture changed the admin to omnipotent friend

*eye roll*

im in danger

The chat died down after that and you fell back asleep. Neji laughed. This chat has bounced admin to admin and the nicknames change often enough to keep anyone entertained. Neji himself got ready for bed. Rock Lee stayed up a bit longer than him to do some work for his up-and-coming school week. He was student teaching this week.

The next morning everyone woke to a few changes in the group chat. You changed a few nicknames and the title

the void calls me forth

gremlin

(y/n)! how dare you call me a gremlin.

void keeper

bc im not kiba and you will not bully me

pretty boy

im pretty?

sai-duck

i like this more.

fur culture

I deserve this honestly. All though these were good changes. neji is pretty, sai clever pun and shikamaru deserved it. you should have been this admin from the start

whoji

we told you that from the start, and two she came up with half the original nicknames

the boulder

teenagers scare me.

You snorted and walked down the stairs. Kiba just accepted his fate. It was almost perfect. Your mom left you a note about her plans for the day. Your father was there for the day but he was engrossed in work. You ate something quickly and popped your head in to say hello to him. He waved at you and went about your day.

n. hyuuga

Good morning. Can you meet me at The Blossom for coffee?

you

sure. totally. see you in ten?

n. hyuuga

Yes. Of course. Cannot wait.

You smiled to yourself walking down the stairs. Your mom was gone for the day. You could hear the television on. You popped your head in to see your dad watching a show about rocks. You smiled while he just read in his rocker the noise in the background. You leaned on the frame waiting for him to notice you. It takes him a moment before he looks up from his book and he smiles.

“What’s up buttercup?”

“I’m going to get coffee, do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head no.

“Go have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss. Walking into the kitchen you grabbed your jacket and purse off the coat rack. You slipped your phone into your jacket pocket and started on your walk. The great thing is The Blossom was a five-minute walk from your house. The walk, while short, gave you time to reflect. You thought about Neji. You probably always liked him, it went through phases where you liked him more than a friend, but then Koma happened. That six months of your life where Neji didn’t cross your mind. But now it all seems to be falling into place.

As you approached the cafe, Neji was already there. He looked beautifully aloof. You quietly walked up to him while he scrolled on his phone. His light skin contrasting against his dark hair and the bright red t-shirt and checkered pants to match. You honestly were a mixture of both impressed and intimidated by him. He always looked like he had his life together. You looked down at yourself and how you were dressed. You layered tights under overalls with a baggy sweater on top. You felt like you weren’t dressed well enough to compete with him. He looked up at you and smiled. He gently pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. You weren’t sure what you two were but you were content.

“This is my treat, come on.” He smiled opening the door for you, “I picked this place because no one would come here or neither do I think our friends care enough to find us. This place has chai lattes and oat milk which I know are your favorites.”

You smiled, cheeks becoming redder.

“You remembered?”

“Of course,” he responded. It’s because I love you. But he didn’t let her know that.

You held onto the crook of his elbow whilst he ordered. He ended up ordering for both of you while you had a small smile on your features. He ordered the chai latte for you and a simple London fog drink. You weren’t expecting that. As if he read your mind.

“I had a small cup of coffee before I decided to ask you out. Do you want anything else?” he asked.

“Do you want to split a coffee cake?”

Neji nodded. His eyes lit up like you hung the stars in the sky. You felt very on par with Neji, finally. You and he walked over to a table situated in the corner by the window. It was a kind of chilly morning for how early in September that it was. You rested your head on your hand looking between him and the window before you asked.

“Don’t you work on Monday? Like a new startup position at a family-owned accounting firm?” You asked, smirking.

Neji smiled at your question crossing his legs and leaning over to rest his head on his hands, thinking for a moment to formulate an answer for you.

“Yes but technically no. My days got changed because I’m going back to school for my masters so my uncle has me working sparingly.”

“Your masters? That’s great!” you smiled excitedly.

He looked very bemusingly at you. He offered a hand to you to hold across the table. The two of you shared the cake and drinks in silence. No need to talk currently. The two of you spoke sparingly and worked on individual projects. You worked on songs and he worked on some classwork.

“Neji. What are we?” you asked.

The keyboard clicking stopped. You felt your body tense. Had you pushed a boundary? He was hesitating and you were getting progressively more anxious. He started wringing his hands, but you quietly waited for him to answer you. Seconds felt like hours to you waiting.

“I-I knew this was coming but I-” He sighed softly, “I was just trying to feel out how you felt before I spoke to you about me.” Neji explained, “(Y/N) I have liked you probably since I was fifteen. But our lives never seemed to line up. Call it destiny if you will always seem to escape me. I dated, you dated. I got scared of my feelings for you but not anymore I can’t. I don’t want to. I- I want to take care of you, and be with you and support you.” He ended up just muttering to himself.

Your heart clenched watching him. You smiled that he was being honest with you. Even though he was avoiding your eye contact. You reached out to grab his hand to get his attention. He slowly let you coax his hand into yours while you figured out how to respond.

“Thank you, Neji for being honest with me. I know how you feel. You bore your feelings to me for how you feel. I accept your feelings.” you replied, smiling. “And I- I would love nothing more than this to work out. It would need work. Between music and you being in school again it won’t be easy, and I’m sorry for that. I wish I can be more for you.”

“You’re perfect enough.” He brought your hand to his lips to kiss. “You are worth the work.”

Kiba was passing by when he stopped and did a double-take. He was convinced that he saw you and Neji but he wasn’t sure.

the void calls me forth

fur culture

r (y/n) and neji on a date?

ino-yeet-chi

why would that be ur concern if they were kiba?

fur culture

b/c im not being left out of this revelation once it happens like i was when lee came out. also i see them..

Kiba was squinting at the frosted glass window. Neither you nor Neji knew what was going on in that chat; both of you had your phones picked up. Kiba needed to know so he quietly snuck into the cafe and to a booth on the other side of the store from you two. Not that you would have noticed, either way, you and Neji were in your own little world. It looked like a date to Kiba.

the void calls me forth

ino-yeet-chi

KIBA NO. LEAVE THEM ALONE. SHINO GET YOUR BOY

glasses has left the chat

Neji laughed to himself at something you said. He then leaned in to grasp your chin to press a soft kiss to your mouth. Not wanting to push you. Kiba could hardly believe it. He got up and slipped into the bathroom.

the void calls me forth

fur culture

Holy- DUDE

You felt your phone vibrate and Neji felt his too. You both grabbed your phones and checked the messages. His eyes shot up and scanned for Kiba keenly aware. You were confused. You also looked over the messages and glared.

“He’s here somewhere.” you groaned.

Neji pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at you almost apologetically.

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. You grabbed his back and yours and pulled him from the cafe.

“Don’t be sorry. I know where we can go where no one will find us.”

You and Neji dipped through the streets. He allowed himself to be pulled by you while you brought him to a home. He didn’t recognize this house. You explained it was your grandfather’s home, but he wasn’t home. You had a treehouse in the backyard that you wanted to show him. He was surprised to see this.

“Whoa.”

“I know.”

You climbed up the rope ladder and Neji followed closely as you went up. Inside the treehouse, it looked older but sometimes you still come up to be alone or to play music. Neji stood hunched because it was made for you who had never been very tall. He looked around and smiled.

“Finally.” he groaned.

He grabbed your face softly and kissed you properly. You gasped quietly and he kept one hand on your face and the other on your waist to make sure this was real. You both needed air eventually and he actually started to giggle. You laughed and the two of you spent the afternoon in the early fall air laughing, stealing kisses, and being in each other's presence.

#anime images #naruto imagines #naruto reader inserts #naruto #neji hyūga #neji imagine #neji x reader #neji hyuga x y/n #neji hyuuga x reader

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latetaektalk · 3 years

Text

tag games

tagging : @cosmoguk @jtrbluv @yeojaa @opaljm @sleepyjhs @gyukult @jentwt @cafemiya @masterninjacow @gamerkooks and everyone else that has tagged me

tag game one : fic writers ask game

tagged by : @luvdsc thanks cat! this is super fun ✨

Which new trope would you like to try writing?

ex-friends-to-lovers!! in general i love any ex type of tropes!! a heist! au would be fun too

Which trope do you want to write again?

exes! like, i genuinely love that trope so much and feel like theres not enough out there!

Which draft are you most excited to post?

i dont write multiple stories at the same time, so the newest chapter of love to hate you

Is there any new genre you want to explore?

hm i guess fluff? i kinda write angst by default because i think fluff is kinda... boring and not dramatic enough, so i guess i wanna try out fluff!

Do you have a favorite line in any of your drafts up to now?

“Can’t you at least pretend like you think I’m funny?”

“Yeah, that costs extra.”

“And you scolded Jisoo for exploiting me,” Jungkook bit back.

“Well, you said you’re all mine to exploit, didn’t you?” you hummed, scrunching your nose. “You are my boyfriend after all, right?”

Jungkook stared at you, blinked three times before tilted his head to the side and tongued his cheek, defeat.

“Touché.”

Have you decided on any creative goals for 2021?

not really! i just try to write, have fun and improve honestly!

Describe your journey on this blog last year in three words! And three more words for what you hope for 2021!

2020: growth, friendships, fun

2021: growth, friendships, fun (dont really wanna change anything! im having fun!)

tag game two : 10 songs, 10 people

rules : you can tell a lot about a person from the type of music they listen to. put your favorite playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs. then tag ten people. no skipping!

playlist chosen : love to hate you

kiss me - sixpence none the richer

anything you want - jawny

can i call you tonight? - dayglow

heartbreak in a box - juice

daydreaming - marc wavy

lover boy - phum viphurit

let’s fall in love for tonight - finneas

dontmakemefallinlove - cuco

strangers in a dream - phum viphurit

afterglow - taylor swift

tag game three : interview

rules : answer questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better!

tagged by : @lcksndkys thank you so much! these are a ton of fun ✨

name/nickname : linh

pronouns : she/her

star sign : scorpio

height : around 170 cm or 5′7

time currently : 10:30 pm

when is your birthday : nov 9th

favorite band/groups : exo, red velvet, bts, nct, superm, blackpink, twice

favorite solo artist : taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, harry styles, finneas

song stuck in your head : gone by rose

last movie you watched : get smart, i think

last show you binged : taskmaster

when you created your (main) blog : like april 2019 maybe?

last thing you googled : how many seconds in a year

other blogs : this and my recs blog

why i chose my url : like late night talk, so i turned the night into taek because of taehyung, baekhyun and taeyong afdfsa

how many people are you following : 305

how many followers do you have : around 1.7k

average hours of sleep : uh not much? idk online class is kinda killing my sleep schedule

lucky number : 7

instruments : piano

dream job : dont know, but something that i enjoy and make good money at?

dream trip : vietnam, china, south korea, japan, england, france, netherlands

favorite food : potatoes, salmon, dim sum

nationality : chinese

favorite song : cruel summer by taylor swift,, its literally my most played song of 2020

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in : marvel, atla, we bare bears

tag game four : this or that

indoor plants or gardens // cloud-watching or star-gazing // water or fire // paperback or hardcover // running or hiking // sleeping with socks or without socks // fruit or vegetables // hanging plants or succulents // dark wood or light wood // handwritten or typed // instagram or pinterest // braids or pigtails // dc or marvel // books or movies // oceans or meadows // forests or fields // sweet or salty // ice cream or chocolate // hoodies or sweaters // long hair or short hair // piercings or tattoos // summer or winter // boots or sneakers // cars or motorcycles // curls or straight hair // castles or cottages // sunny days or storms // reptiles or birds // disney or nickelodeon // strawberries or watermelon // essays or posters // phones or laptops // glass or stone // dark or light // photos or paintings // circuses or theatres // reading or writing // dogs or cats // poetry or novels // monsters or ghosts // thrift shops or libraries // fiction or non-fiction

tag game five : ten biases tag

rules : write down your top 10 biases and answer the following questions

seulgi

baekhyun

taehyung

joohyun

jungkook

jennie

chaeyoung

nayeon

mark

jongin

1. between 1 and 4 who would you rather kiss?

uhm cant i just kiss both? i could never choose between the two sadfsd

2. between 2 and 7 who would be your best friend?

chaeyoung because she speaks english but also because i feel like she and i would hit it off better

3. between 5 and 10 who has the better voice?

love jongin and his voice, but yeah jungkook

4. between 1 and 8 who is the funniest?

ohh thats hard, but i think its nayeon adsfas

5. between 6 and 9 who would you date?

jennie. if i have the chance to date kim fucking jennie, im dating kim fucking jennie. bye mark im not even sorry

6. between 9 and 10, who would you do a collaboration with?

mark! i feel like working with him would be so funny because he just talks and talks and talks asdfdas

7. between 4 and 8 who is the best dancer?

joohyun!

8. between 3 and 5 who would you most likely marry?

uhm uhm uhm- i think im gonna go with taehyung? mainly because of yeontan asdadsf

9. between 1 and 7 who would you nurse when they are sick?

seulgi no fucking question asdfsd like sorry, bestie chaeyoung, but seulgi just owns my heart :((

10. between 2 and 3 who has the better smile?

i dont think this is fair at all?? because both have such gorgeous smiles?? im not choosing asdfs

11. between 6 and 8 who would you vacation with?

jennie! feel llike she would pay for everything and kinda spoil me,, also feel like she would want to do the craziest shit

#linh.tagged

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geniusgub · 3 years

Text

north//chapter fourteen

genre: angst

pairing: season twelve spencer reid x female oc

warnings: description of physical assault, prison, just all of the bad prison arc stuff

word count: 4.7k

summary: spencer and amelia feel the effects of being forcibly separated and it impacts them in similar ways.

honestly, spencer’s pov in this chapter is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written so i hope everyone enjoys it <3

AMELIA

"Come on! You don't even have to do anything! Just go and clean up. We'll go with you and help!" Yaz pokes my shoulder incessantly, trying to get a reaction out of me. But I just keep my eyes on the tv in front of me, bundled up under a blanket.

"Lia," Michael sighs and slings his arm over my shoulder. I want nothing more than to shove it off. “It's been like, three months since-"

I'm quick to speak up to correct him. "Two and a half."

Michael and Quinn exchange a tense look. "Okay," Quinn nods, "two and a half months. It's been two and a half months since you've drawn, or painted, or sketched, or done anything even related to art. We know you're upset about Spencer but you can't let yourself be so upset. You need to find something that's gonna bring you happiness, and art has always done that."

"I don't wanna," I answer like a stubborn child, an answer that any of my siblings would have given me about things like going to bed early or eating vegetables. I pull the blanket up to my chin and stroke my thumb across my newest tattoo, tucked away and out of the sights of my nosy, annoying friends.

Frankie turns and shushes Quinn. "Like I said, Lia, why don't we go and just clean up your studio? We can drive over and just clean up? That's it. You don't have to do a photoshoot or create anything new. Just clean. Sound good? An hour tops."

I look around the faces of my expecting friends and tighten my jaw. I try to steal Spencer's skills and profile what their ulterior motives could be. They all hated Spencer before meeting him, and even after they met him, they weren't completely fond of him. So why are they trying so hard to get me to feel better? Why does it feel like they’re trying to get me to forget about my boyfriend in prison? I should be worrying about him every second of my day instead of prancing around town, cleaning up my studio, and going about my life as if Spencer isn’t suffering. But I’m sure they mean well. And I’m absolutely positive that my legs are sore from sleeping on the couch and from being in that same position all day.

"Fine," I concede, and they all silently cheer. "But I'm driving myself."

The drive to my studio is nearly insufferable. It’s silent and overwhelmed with a tension that I created but can’t seem to let go. The sights around me are familiar but blurry, like I can’t even tell which stores are which without someone in my passenger seat spitting out fact after fact after fact as I drive. I can’t drive down the street and try to recall all the good times and all the dates and all the drunken stumbles back home with the love of my life on my arm. It’s far too painful to constantly remember that I can’t go home and see Spencer and I can’t spend hours on the phone with him like I do when he is away on a case. I can’t see him.

When I arrive at my studio, I realize why they were so insistent that I come out to clean up. I can't remember the last time I was actually in here to work but it's an absolute mess. There are canvases everywhere, bottles and tubes of paint on the floor, splashes and splatters of paint on the walls, brushes everywhere, crumbled up sketches in the trash, and way more. The studio needs much love and I guess now is the time to give it.

Michael immediately turns on music and everyone gets to work, but I don't. I pick up an empty tube of yellow paint and squeeze it in my palm. My head is starting to pound and I can't even stop it as tears start to fall down my cheeks. Who knew that one person could produce so many tears?

Spencer loved when I wore yellow. I have this one short, backless dress that he loved. He especially loved that he had easy access to my skin, always tracing shapes on my back and murmuring about how soft my skin is. He always said that he loved the way the yellow complimented my blonde hair and how it contrasted against my colorful tattoos. He even went as far as to buy me another yellow dress for my birthday last year.

And he loved when I used yellow in my paintings too. One time, I sent him a picture of a piece I was working on and he emailed back a book about how the use of yellow paint expressed the happiness of the piece or something like that. He raved about a painting I did of the sun and how my use of yellow wasn’t scientifically accurate, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

"Amelia?" Quinn speaks but I don't look at her. My cheeks are wet with tears that I barely noticed and my hands are clutching the tube of paint so tightly that it would burst if it were full. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you. If we-"

"I'm gonna go," I say hastily, clutching the empty tube in my hand as I breeze out of the studio, leaving my bewildered friends to either clean or leave. They know the way out and they know where the keys are. They don’t need me.

I'm wandering into the bullpen like it's second nature because, at this point, it basically is. Nobody on the team bothers to say anything to me. They never do. They're too worried I'll blow up at them or start crying. I don't blame them.

I rap my knuckles against Dave's door and wait for him to shout for me to come in, and when he does, I enter slowly. He gives me a small, pitiful smile as I move in front of his desk. I set the empty yellow paint tube in front of him and then sit down, bringing my knees to my chest.

Dave looks down at the tube, his eyebrows furrowing. "Paint? What's this?"

I blink and it forces tears out of my eyes. "I don't know how to live without Spencer."

Dave leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over my chest. He studies me, profiles me. I hate when Spencer did that. He always got this look on his face when he profiled me, but Dave has a better poker face. "And paint has something to do with that?"

"I just went to my studio with my friends and I finished off all this paint and there were brushes all over the floor and-" tears start pouring down my cheeks again, wetting my neck and the neckline of my sweater. "I came home the other day and I'd left the balcony door open. How stupid. I'm forgetting to lock my doors just because my boyfriend is in p-" I gulp, having to force out the disgusting word, "prison. How fucking stupid. How stupid am I that I can't function without him?"

"You're not stupid," Dave shakes his head. Nothing about his tone or his body language is helpful in the slightest. Nothing and nobody will help. "You two are reliant on each other and that's not a bad thing. I'm sure Boy Genius is always on you about locking your doors and I'm sure he's always giving you statistics on break ins and-"

"He doesn't," I cut him off sharply. "If Spencer's telling me statistics then it's about stars in the sky and how to properly care for my plants so they stay alive longer or just- it's never about things you guys talk about here. It always about things that I'd like. He does it to protect me. He doesn't tell me about serial killers unless I ask, and I only ask when I can see that he had a really hard day at work. It's just me, Dave," I put my forehead to my knees, shoulder shaking as sobs take over my whole body. "I just don't know how to live without him. I don't know how to function without him holding my hand and him calling me to promise he's okay and-- I just can't. I can't do it."

"You did it before you met him," Dave stands from his desk and moves in front of me. He puts his cold hand on my shoulder and it sends a chill down my spine. "You lived a long life before you met him, and you're living now while he's temporarily gone. It's hard, I know, but it's only for a short time."

"I just want him to be okay. That's all I really care about."

///

SPENCER

///

My whole job is about helping people and I've spent my whole life caring for others, mostly my mother. In my professional life, I'm always keeping an eye on my teammates to make sure they aren't in danger. I consider it to be part of my responsibility to look after every single one of my teammates. They're my family and I rely on them to help me too.

I never thought my helpful nature would come back to hurt me. I never thought that trying to help out a friend would come back to hurt me so badly. All I wanted to do was help Delgado. That's it. Calvin is protecting me and the other men in here wouldn't dare to cross him. They know how miserable he could make their experience here and they'd rather beat up someone else than get on Calvin's bad side.

All I did was speak to a correctional officer at chow. That's literally all I did. Yes, I did rat out the gang to the officer for beating up Delgado, but they don't know that. They aren't going to be disciplined for it. I ask the guard for water first as a cover, but clearly, it wasn't enough.

And I've been through a lot in the field. I've been tackled, and punched, and shot, but getting beaten up in a prison is completely different. The guards couldn't care less about the inmates. No matter how much I screamed and pleaded for help, no one came. And even still, there was another inmate outside my cell keeping watch so my attackers could run and not get caught.

I’ve gotten beaten up a lot in my line of work and I can confidently say that this one, in a dirty prison cell, is the worst I’ve received. They held me down against my bed and used a rag to muffle me, but it covered my mouth and nose and it almost suffocated me. They beat me to a pulp, drawing blood on my forehead and almost cracking a rib or two.

It was an unrelenting beating and I eventually succumbed to the pain because I convinced myself that they were going to kill me. I snitched and death would be the consequence. I stopped fighting and just let them take their turns at swiping my face and my chest and my stomach because what could I do? Nothing. As Calvin loves to remind me, the rules are different in here. I don't have a badge and a gun to make the torture stop. I have to endure it or find my own ways to make it stop, and this is a moment to endure it. I'm rendered useless.

The beating only ended when the inmate outside whistled, probably a preplanned signal, because the two others immediately jumped off of me and ran out of my cell. As soon as the towel was pulled away from my face, I gasped in a breath and clutched my aching chest, wincing in pain.

Wilkins came strolling over, peering into my cell. I knew he knew exactly what had just happened by the smirk on his face, but he chose to do nothing. He chose to stroll over instead of running and he didn't yell at the other inmates. He just stared at me and smirked, shaking his head.

"That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut, Snitch."

And those are the words that echoed in my nightmare that night.

I'd rolled over and coughed up a generous amount of blood, grimacing at the taste in my mouth. My body trembled and shook when Wilkins left, even more than when he was silently mocking and watching me. Wilkins doesn’t care to do his job but at least with him standing at my cell door, I had the tiniest bit of protection. But with him gone, the other inmates could come back and finish the job. I shook and stayed rolled over on my side for twenty minutes, staring at the floor and waiting for my cell to close.

When it finally did close, I didn't even let myself sigh of relief. I just fell onto my back again with a groan. I could barely move. It hurt too bad. Everything always hurts nowadays. Things didn't hurt on the outside. Living didn't hurt before I got arrested.

Getting visitors the next morning is not what the ideal situation is. Rising from bed is more of a challenge than it normally is. My body is sore and aching and all I want to do is curl up in my obnoxiously uncomfortable bed, if this slab of metal and a blanket could be considered a bed, and go back to sleep. But I know I'll get in trouble if I don't get up for role call, so I ignore the pain.

I don't dare to look around at anyone on my block as the officer shouts our names, checking to see that we're all here. I just keep my head held high and my hands at my sides and try to show that I couldn't care less about the beating that is causing me so much unrelenting pain.

But then they call our names for a visitor’s session and, of course, my name gets called. I'm usually grateful to get to see anyone from my team, but now? Today? After last night? I'd prefer if they didn't come back until after these bruises were gone. But there's nothing I can do so I allow the guards to put cuffs on me and lead me to the visitor’s room.

As soon as Penelope sees me, she gasps and drops her jaw. She starts to rise to her feet, but I sharpen my glare at her and when she sees my expression, she stays in her seat. When I sit down at the little table and put my cuffed hands in view, like I'm required to, I watch her eyes fill with tears.

"You-" she whispers, "you're hurt. What happened?"

"It's not a big deal," I answer nonchalantly. "It could've been worse." She's not convinced, her jaw dropped as a few tears drip down her cheeks. I keep my jaw tight and as much as I want to comfort her and hug her and promise that as badly as this hurts and as horrible as I'm sure I look, I'll be fine. But there are a million eyes on me right now, including my assailants, and if I show any kind of weakness, a beating like last nights will surely be in store for me again.

Penelope not-so-subtly glances around at the other prisoners around us. "Reid," she leans towards me and tries to lower her voice, "I am going to march right down to the warden’s office and I'm going to-"

"No, you're not," I snap, and my sharp tone of voice makes her jump back, her eyes widening. But for some reason, the look on her face doesn't even make me regret the way I've spoken to her. The look on her face just bothers me more. Why doesn't she get it? Clearly, I have to spell it out for her. "It'll just make worse things. I've got it handled, Garcia."

"Are you sure?" She practically whimpers. "I could-"

"How's everyone else? How's the team? How's my mom?" I deflect from the obvious issue at hand and instead turn the focus to my loved ones. All but the one I wanna hear about.

Penelope starts to nod slowly and she moves her glasses to wipe her cheeks free of tears. "We really miss you. And in our free time, we're working really hard on your-"

"Shh," I try to hold my hands out but the handcuffs rattle, and my eyes dart over to a guard who is alerted by my movement. He gives me a pointed look as if telling me not to do anything stupid. I put my hands back down and look over at a stunned Penelope, leaning in closer. "Don't talk about my case, Garcia. People don’t do that in here. It’s not right and it’s not safe. Just don't talk about it."

She gulps harshly, another single tear dripping down her cheek. "Okay," she nods again, and it's obvious that she's confused. But I don't have the time or the energy to explain why I'm acting like this and I don't even have it in me to care. I didn't even want to be at this visitor’s meeting. I'm only here because I have to be. "Um," she taps her fingers against the table, "we just really miss you, Spencer. Your mom is doing really well with Cassie."

"Good, I'm glad everyone is okay," I nod and I sit back, glancing around for a clock. When is this thing over? I'd rather be in my cell than here. I never thought I'd think that.

Penelope raises her eyebrows and her eyes soften. "A-Amelia? Do you wanna hear about her?"

As soon as I hear her name, my heart starts beating faster. My mind flashes with all the most beautiful images of Amelia that I can recall. I can practically see her in front of me. I can almost feel her under my fingertips. I swear I can taste her chapstick on my lips as she kisses me. I rub my fingers together as if I can feel the fabric of her denim skirt. As if I could unbuckle her belt and take her right on my bed right now. I shake the thought from my head. Don't go there, Spencer. Nothing good ever comes of when your mind goes there.

But I can't get her out of my head. I can stop seeing her lying on my lap, peering up at me as she mulls over which record to put on. Etta James or Taylor Swift? That's always the question of the day, isn't it? It always seems to take her hours to decide on an answer, and she usually doesn't. She'll usually work up an appetite with her thoughts, and when she's gone to get a snack or a glass of wine, I decide for her. Always the same. Always Taylor Swift.

But her smile is always so beautiful when she comes back into the room. When the music finally flows through her ears, the smile that comes to her face is one that could end wars, cure cancer, solve world hunger. I didn't think I could ever understand how bubblegum pop music could make a person so happy. I didn’t think I could ever understand how bubblegum pop music could make Amelia want to drag me off the couch or out of bed and force me to dance with her, whether it be in the middle of the night or just as the sun is peeking through the always-open blinds of her apartment.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to bring myself back to reality. I try to forget about the girl that's waiting for me in the free world. I try to ignore that she's probably shed tear after tear and I haven't been there to wipe them away. My brain produces images of her gasping for air with her head between her knees and I ball my hands into fists.

I'm angry. I'm fucking furious. I want to be there to hold her and whisper in her ear and tell her that her panic attacks are short-lived, that I'm right there. I need to be there to hold her and kiss her and love her. I need her because I can't do this without her. I don't know what to do if I'm not spending my time protecting her. Everything I do is to protect her. I don't know how to function if I'm not holding her hand, or if I'm not pushing myself through every day just so I can call her at midnight to promise that I'm okay. I've become so reliant on Amelia, and maybe that's wrong, but I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. I just want my life back. I want my life, I want my job, and I want my girlfriend.

I want my girlfriend. I want to move in with her like we planned to and I want to propose to her and I want to marry her. I want to have a whole house full of kids who are loud and messy and loving and adorable and a crusty dog who slobbers all over the couch and chews my shoes. It's not fair. None of this is fair. Amelia doesn't deserve this. She deserves someone better than me.

But I can still see her. I can still see her fucking smile, and I can still hear her goddamn laugh, and I can still feel the fabric of her dumb hair scarves. She's engulfing me in her. She's not even here and yet I feel like I could reach out and she would be in my arms, kissing my neck and telling me that I'm safe and that we can just sit on the balcony and talk. We don't have to go to bed if you don't want to, we can just talk.

What I would give to hear her voice again. I'd give everything I have, and right now, it's not much. I'd give everything plus the clothes on my back to just hear her tell me I'm safe, or to tell me about a new painting she's thinking about starting, or to ask me to tell her a random fact about a food item she is about to buy at the store.

The last thing I want right now is to hear about Amelia. I want it all, or I want nothing. I don't want to hear that Amelia misses me, or that she's crying and having panic attacks in the middle of the BAU, or that she's sleeping in my clothes (or worse, not sleeping at all), or that she's lashing out at everyone. No, if I'm not having her in front of me, kissing me, hugging me, I don't want to hear about her.

"No."

For what seems like the millionth time, Penelope's eyes widen. "No? You don't wanna hear about-"

"No, I don't," there's a pit in my stomach that I try to hold down. I try to not let it take control of me. "I don't wanna hear about how horrible she's doing, okay? So just tell her that I lo-"

I can feel a million eyes burning into every bone in my body and so I stop myself. My lips freeze mid-sentence and I release the steel grip my hands hold around my cuffs. Penelope's are just another pair of eyes that bore into my frame, and I usually love her concerned and mothering nature, but now, it irks me to no end.

"Whatever," it pains me to cut off the sentence I crave so intensely to say, but I can't let my guard down. I can't be vulnerable and I can't show weakness.

"Whatever," Penelope repeats, almost mockingly, her voice cracking. "So you-"

"Could you not say anything to, um," I gulp, "her about this?" I gesture to my face where I can feel the pulsing and throbbing bruises tormenting me. I drop my shoulders and start to fiddle with the way-too-tight handcuffs around my wrists, but then I decide that that's a horrible idea, and probably a good way to get harassed by the correctional officers. "I just don't want her to worry about this. I'm sure she's worried enough. I don't want to give her another reason to, you know, panic."

"Times up! Inmates, get back to your cells."

Without so much as another glance at Penelope, I stand and turn my back to her. I lift my chin as I'm pushed and shoved into the lineup and then pushed and shoved back to my lonely, isolated cell. I'd rather have it this way, behind bars where the other inmates can't get me.

I drop down to the floor, pressing my forehead against the rusty bars, staring out at the drab, bland, boring beige walls. The paint is peeling and the bars, honestly, look like they could be broken with a hard enough kick. And, of course, the colors of the walls do nothing to brighten up the dead environment. The colors aren't anything like those that adorn Amelia's body on the regular.

A frustrated groan escapes my lips as I bang my hand against the bars. Why did I have to think about her again? Why did I have to let her infiltrate my thoughts?

But the colors of her. The colors swirl around in my head but as hard as I try, I can't get her colors to fill this horrible cell I'm confined to. I try to imagine her denim skirts, knit sweaters, and pea coats strewn out on the bed as she chooses what to wear in the morning. I try to remember the feeling of accidentally stepping on one of Amelia's millions of piercings when they fall on the floor after she takes them out before bed. I try to see her laying down on my bed, her sketchbook in her lap, and her colored pencils beside her as she rambles on and on and on, talking more than me, about what she's drawing and how she's planning on achieving her vision.

But no matter how hard I try, I can't get her into the cell with me. She doesn't belong here. Her art doesn't belong on these chipped walls, and her clothes don't belong on this poor excuse for a bed, and her absurdly positive attitude doesn't deserve to be squashed in here.

I rub my eyes and try to forget. I try to forget all about her and I try to erase her from my mind completely. I push myself away from the bars and stand, but standing does the opposite of what I want to do. Standing gives me a perfect view of the tiny window across from my cell, but more specifically, the sky.

I stare up at the clouds, my hands gripping the bars as tight as I possibly can. My eyes well up with tears and my knees start to buckle under my weight, and as my tears start to drip, they sting the cuts that I didn't even realize I had on my face. It’s not like I have a mirror to examine my injuries.

They are just blobs. There are no dragons, or hands, or tables, or staircases, or cars, or Christmas trees. They're just clouds. There's nothing fancy about them. I'll never be able to see it. I couldn't see shapes when I was with Amelia. What makes me think I would be able to see shapes without her?

I push myself away from the bars and throw myself onto the bed, covering my face with my hands. This is useless. I'm useless. There are echoes of chatter from men on my cell block and it makes my head hurt. If Amelia were here, she would cradle my head in her lap and brush her fingers through my hair, and she would trail her fingertips over my forehead and over the bridge of my nose, all while whispering sweet nothings to me. I groan with frustration, rolling onto my stomach and burying my face under my flat pillow.

"Hey, Reid," Calvin's voice joins the echoes from the cells around mine. "How's it going over there?"

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