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maizumis · 3 years

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— HAIKYUU BOYS HAVING A TEA PARTY WITH YOUR DAUGHTER

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsuro, iwaizumi hajime

note: female reader ‼️ watch me write about dad!haikyuu all the moments I didn't have with my own sperm donor

MIYA ATSUMU after a long day at work, you were coming home a little more late than usual and as you were opening the door with a sigh, the first thing you listen is “PEASANT, DO NOT TOUCH THE QWEEN CWON”, yeah that’s definitely your daughter and your pretty sure that the “peasant” is your, oh so-called husband. Curiosity took the best of you, now you were behind your daughter’s door listen carefully what atsumu was saying to her, “WHATYA MEANT PEASANT? I WANNA WEAR A CROWN TOO YA KNOW!” your daughter gasps in disbelieve, “daddy, mom is da queen, I’m da princess and yer the peasant! And clearly, mommy isn’t here so don’t touch her cwon!” One thing you know is that you wouldn’t like to see and hear a screaming match between the peasant and the princess in question, thinking that stepping in is the best option, you said “what’s the matter in here?”, next thing you know, your daughter with his big brown eyes that she got from her father, comes running at you, screaming “momm- I mean queen! Yeah, queen! yer just on time for the tea party, this peasant needs to learn some manners” you picked her up, enjoying the way her little arms go around your neck, “yeah? What did dada do this time?” while her face is on your neck, she tells you with a whisper “psss mom, he is not dad now, remember is tea party time” and now with her voice a little more loud she announces to you what he did “he wanted to use ya cwon! Literally had to scream at him cause of that! Peoples this time are onbelivabol” the las part coming with a sigh, “ugh I now right? Why don’t we teach him some manners then?” After a little thinking, your daughter tells you “uh-huh! Yer right my queen, now I will leave to the bathroom and come back to continue this celebration”. While she leaves, atsumu comes at you with a back hug asking if ya really taking her side? with a low tone, so you replied with “of course I’m taking her side, she’s a child, our child in fact” atsumu looks at you with big eyes and tells you “she is right, people these times are onbelivabol but I still love you my queen”, now facing him, noses and foreheads touching each other you whisper to him “I love you to my peasant” and after a little chuckle you continue “thank you so much for this”.

BOKUTO KOUTAROU he always had tea parties with his daughter on Mondays after his volleyball practice with the MSBY. He couldn’t go to last week's party because of an away game, and he was devasted and promised her little princess that he would get her something. Now he is coming home from the airport with three Elsa dresses, one for his precious child, the other for his precious wife, and the last one for him, it was very difficult to find one of his size cause of his beefy body, but if he promises his little girl something, he is gonna make it without a doubt. “HEY HEY HEY! GUESS WHOS HOME” he screams while putting his suitcase down “HEY HEY HEY DADDY! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! MOMMY IS MAKING DINNER WHILE I PREPARED OUR SUPER DUPER EXTRA TEA PARTY!!” he picks her up with one arm, making his way to the kitchen to involve you in a hug with the arm he had free “we missed you, kou” snuggling into his neck, and while his arm tightens around you he replies with a soft tone “missed my two girls too, so much” he puts her daughter on the floor again and tells her “missy I have a surprise for our tea party, why don’t you finish the preparations and then mom and I are gonna go there with dinner? Sounds good?” whit a little nod she answers with “yeah dada, that sounds good”. After hearing her enter her room you ask your husband what did he get for her, and when he tells you he didn’t get one, not two but three princess dresses you’re over the moon, the fuck you’re going to do with three dresses? you don’t question him and keep cooking as if you wouldn’t have to put on a frozen show in less than half an hour. “BABY IM COMING TO YOUR ROOM WITH HOT FOOD, BE CAREFULL” the little girl sees you in all your glory, with the most beautiful Elsa dress she ever saw “MAMA, WHY YOU DIDNT TOLD ME ELSA LET YOU BORROW HER DRESS? YOU'RE SO PWETTY!” laughing a little at her comment you decide that it was the best to tell her is a secret between adults, excited to see her reaction when her dad comes to her room with the same dress on him and a little one for her. “IM COMING IN!” your husband yells and your daughter’s eyes are the bigger you ever saw them, running like the flash to steal the dress that was in his dad's hands. “Daddy, that dress is so pwetty on you, and there's one for me! We are all matching! And now we are gonna have our four curse, ugh no, cruse, ump corse, mommy how do I say it?”, “course darling, four meal course. Now dada, why don’t you come to eat with us this fancy dinner?” after nodding and making his way to the both of you, bokuto thinks he is gonna ask for another kid one of these days.

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 4 years

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Let’s Pretend (Kuroo Tetsurou x F!reader)

this was for the hq writers net secret summer fic exchange! my partner was: @occasional-haikyuu hope you enjoy 🤗 i love writing Kuroo sm and i got really carried away with this one, i enjoyed writing it a lot 💕

genre: fluff, college!au, fake dating, friends to lovers words: 4k+

You and Kuroo have been friends since the first year of college. You met him through Akaashi, who you sat next to in English first semester. And at some point, you got comfortable enough to complain to him about how chemistry was totally kicking your ass and he mentioned that his friend who lived down the hall was pretty good at it. Akaashi offered to ask him if he’d help you out.

And that’s how you found yourself one afternoon waiting for a complete stranger in the library. You weren’t expecting the 6’2” middle blocker of the university’s volleyball team to slide into the seat next to you and introduce himself as Akaashi’s friend.

That was almost 3 years ago now, and it turns out the towering middle blocker you could barely speak a word to the first week of him tutoring you is a total dork that loves volleyball and science just a tad too much.

You plop down on the worn-out couch of your shared apartment with Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto; who you met not long after meeting Kuroo, you shove Kuroo to the end to give yourself some space.

“There’s a perfectly good chair you know!” He complains, squished up against the arm of the couch.

“Huh.” You make a show of squinting at the empty chair. “I think that chair says ‘Kuroo’ on it though.”

He groans. “This couch isn’t made for four people!”

“It most definitely is, I just unfortunately happen to live with two freakishly tall volleyball players and one beefy one.” You jab a finger to the other side of you at Bokuto sandwiched between you and Akaashi on the couch.

Kuroo gives you a look, then turns his attention to the chair in question. “It says Kuroo on it, does it?”

You grin devilishly at him. “Sure does. Gotta squint to see it though.”

He sighs, but picks up his bowl from the table and moves over to the chair grumbling, “The things I let you do…” But you can see he’s trying to hide his smile. This time you smile innocently at him before taking a bite of your food and scooting over to his newly vacated spot. “Who’s turn is it tonight?”

“Mine—mine!” Bokuto shouts, nearly tipping his bowl over in his attempt to snatch the remote. He turns the channel to the college sports network, and you pull out your phone to scroll mindlessly through your feed. You’ve watched volleyball every night for the past week, giving up your nights in control of the remote because they all get unbearably antsy in the days leading up to a game.

So, to make up for it, you either get the remote for however many days you gave it up for or they do the dishes or something. You don’t mind too much, not when you’ve grown accustomed to it since all moving in together for second year. And besides, sometimes it’s just as entertaining watching them watch as it is watching the game itself. You like volleyball enough, having been to many of their games to support them, but watching it every night does get a little old for you.

Though, recently, you’ve found yourself watching Kuroo more often than not. The way his golden eyes intently watch the screen, his food forgotten halfway to his mouth—how his lips move almost imperceptibly as he counts to himself when he’d block. He’s so distracted that when his food slips off his utensil, he doesn’t notice, making a face when he bites at nothing. You don’t bother suppressing your giggles about it. To which he just slides a threatening look over at you before returning his attention to the TV.

“So,” you say loudly to get their attention, notorious for not hearing you when a game is on. “Which team are you playing?”

“The yellow one.” Akaashi points to the left side of the screen.

“Are they good?”

All three of them respond in unison, “Yes.”

You take that as a sign this isn’t a game you’re allowed to chat through. Kuroo surprises you by keeping the conversation going. “Are you going to come?”

Finishing your food, you shrug. “Sure, sounds like it’ll be a good game. Thursday, right?”

You stand, gathering the empty bowls to take to the kitchen. Again, Kuroo surprises you by pulling his attention from the match to hand you his bowl, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”

Once you’re gone, he sighs internally, unsure why he wishes you’d come to every game. For a reason he can’t explain, during a game when he thinks his thighs will split the next time he jumps, or his fingers are finally going to break off, being able to glance up at you in the stands cheering them on gives him a burst of energy. And for months now, he’s been glancing at you a lot more frequently off the court.

He finds Bokuto and Akaashi staring at him, and all he can say is, “Shut up.”

You have to beg a couple of your girl friends to come to the game with you, enticing them with the idea of tall, attractive volleyball players. You would have gone alone of you had to but being with others is usually a lot more fun. Especially when your closest friends are in the game, it’s hard for you to find people to join you.

Volleyball is a pretty popular sport at your University for students to attend, so you annoy your friends to get their early, so you get decent seats. You arrive early enough to catch the tail end of both teams’ warm up, and you usually search for Bokuto’s unique black and white hair finding it easy to spot the familiar black mop of bedhead hair standing nearby.

Beside you, your friend asks, “Which ones are your roommates?”

You quickly point out Bokuto. “He’s the ace, and Akaashi is the one standing to the left of him—he’s the setter. And to the other side of him is Kuroo, a middle blocker, and the captain!”

“Middle blocker?”

You blink, realizing they don’t know much about volleyball in comparison to your strange knowledge of the sport you don’t even play. “Uh, yeah! So, most commonly tall players are in the position of middle blocker so that when the other team tries to spike, they can block it. You’ll see, it’s pretty crazy. I always think they’re going to get their arms ripped off, I don’t know how they do it.”

When the teams finish their warm-ups, they both line up on their respective sides to extend their thanks to the crowd for coming to the game. You beam and wave to your friends, doing your best to make the most noise out of everybody—probably looking ridiculous in the process.

Kuroo chuckles at your enthusiasm, Bokuto’s face splits into a smile and returns the gesture, making an effort to wave at the friends you’ve brought with you.

Once they head back to the coach, you friend leans over to whisper, “I know you live with them but…ever thought about dating one of them? ‘Cause—damn.”

“What? No!” You splutter. “I couldn’t! I know them a little too well.”

She raises an eyebrow suspiciously. Luckily, you’re saved by the referee blowing the whistle. “Oh, look! The game’s about to start.”

The boys were right, it does turn out to be an exciting game. A nail-biter, sit at the edge of your seat kind of game—your favorite kind. To your relief, your friends get really into the game, and don’t think about asking you more questions about your roommates. Though you can’t stop thinking about it. Not as you watch Kuroo’s jump serve, your eyes drifting to his shorts revealing his muscular thighs or the peek of skin you catch as his shirt rides up.

Have you thought about it in passing once or twice? Sure. Particularly when you’ve caught him just after a shower and he has the audacity to walk around the apartment with just a towel slung around his waist. The first time you saw him, your face set on fire and of course he caught it and chased you around the apartment yelling all sorts of playful jabs at you before you could sprint to the safety of your bedroom and slam the door in his face.

He never once has forgotten that instance, and even now you swear he walks around the apartment like that for longer than necessary on purpose just to fluster you. And sure, when you first met him a few years ago, you developed a crush on him, but it went away quickly after your friendship blossomed.

Didn’t it?

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, feeling like you’ve just had all the air knocked out of you.

Have you…liked…Kuroo all this time?

All those late nights studying, being with him nearly every weekend, enjoying almost every moment with him? The person you’d be so confident to say is your best friend and you’re just figuring this out now?

Holy shit—you think you’re going to pass out from the realization.

You watch Kuroo in a strange stupor, reeling from the emotions flooding you at the moment. But you come to a second realization shortly after the first.

That you’ve been friends all this time, and if he had ever felt that way about you…you assume it’s passed. And you can’t help but fixate on the fear that you’re too late in discovering the way you feel about him.

This isn’t going to be fun.

After the game, which his team fought tooth and nail to win, he notices you’re strangely distant. On the drive home while Bokuto is babbling about the game, you sit quietly in your seat, staring out the window, placating Bokuto with slight nods and occasional responses. It’s very unlike you and worries him.

What happened in the time span between the start and end of the game? Did one of your friends say something that put you off?

He shakes it off, as your spirits brighten slightly when Akaashi suggests you all pick up some takeout on the way home as he’s certain none of you want to put any effort into cooking. Kuroo suggests your favorite place to get food, but if you notice his attempt to bring you out of this weird silent slump, you make no indication of it.

That’s where you all end up getting food, but when you all return home and Akaashi says to you, “Well, what are we watching for the next couple days?”

You dig into the meal, shrugging. “You guys can watch whatever you want tonight, I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo nearly drops his container. Normally, you take the opportunity to watch whatever you want, no matter the complaints it might raise from any of them. He clamps his mouth shut around his chopsticks and catches the similarly surprised glances of Akaashi and Bokuto from across the table. They’ve caught on as well.

When you finish, you get up, throw your container away, and head up the stairs without another word. The moment you’re out of earshot, Akaashi notes, “Something’s up.”

“Yeah, you know she’s usually pretty amped after a game like that one…” Bokuto mutters, his mouth still half full.

“You should check on her.”

Gazing up the stairs, Kuroo gets the feeling you won’t be receptive to talking. Most of the time, you just need time to sort yourself out. You’re acting weird, but not enough to cause him real alarm yet. “I think she just needs some time,” he says, heart heavy that while he wants to go upstairs to help, he knows you well enough that he probably shouldn’t. He learned that the hard way.

Akaashi just shrugs. “Alright. You’d know best.”

“What does that mean?”

He’s unfazed. “I just mean that while we’re all friends, I think you know her better than us.” His eyes meet Kuroo’s, and just like Kenma could always see straight through him, Akaashi can too. “Just an observation.”

Leave it to Bokuto to say bluntly, “Yeah, we all know you’re in love with her.”

“Bokuto!” Kuroo hisses, glaring at him. She is right upstairs! “I am not—”

“You are,” Akaashi says. “And we all know it except for you and the only person denser than you who is currently directly above us.”

Kuroo slumps in his chair defeated. He does know it; he just doesn’t want to admit it. “Well, let’s all just keep that information to ourselves, shall we?” He groans, leaning his head back onto his chair. He can’t imagine what would happen if you accidentally overheard the fact that Kuroo thinks about you on a near daily basis and hasn’t been able to stop since he met you years ago.

Living together has only made it worse and with Akaashi and Bokuto on his ass about it now, he can’t imagine he’s going to be able to keep it a secret for much longer.

The next morning, you seem fine. Kuroo can’t detect any of the strange quiet that overcame you last night and things seem…normal. He couldn’t fall asleep though, too worried that you overheard the conversation after you left. But his worries are assuaged this morning when you saunter into the kitchen, unfazed by him, and even asking how he slept.

He swallows with difficulty. “Uh, not great if I’m honest.”

Without even sparing him a glance you say, “I know. I heard you tossing and turning all night.”

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Growing pains.”

Now you turn to stare at him, giving him a complete once over head to toe. “Growing pains?! You’re joking—you already barely miss the tops of the doorframes!”

God, he really should have picked a more believable excuse. “Guess we’re gunna have to move,” he offers playfully.

“No—you’re gunna have to move. Or get used to ducking.” You stick your tongue out at him before taking a seat at the counter, sipping from your mug while scrolling mindlessly through your phone.

“Good game last night, huh?” He blurts trying to fill the silence, so he doesn’t start drowning in thoughts about how cute you look in your shorts or how he’s hyper-fixated on the cup you keep bringing up to your mouth.

You shrug. “My friends seemed to enjoy themselves, so that was fun. I got to show off my endless amounts of volleyball knowledge thanks to you guys.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Positions and plays and stuff. But I think they were much more interested in um—,” you cough, then glance at him from beneath your lashes. “The uh…players.”

He blinks. “What do you mean?” He knows exactly what you mean but he wants to hear you say it.

“I am not saying it.”

“But I really don’t know,” he muses.

A groan emits from you. “Yes, you do—I know you do.”

He smirks, making heat crawl up your neck. “What about the players?”

Burying your face in your hands, you shout defeated, “Ugh—they think all of you are hot okay?”

The mischievous grin that rises to his lips nearly sends you into overdrive. “Oh, we do get pretty warm,” he agrees, pouring his hot water into a travel mug and snagging a tea bag.

Your eyes narrow dangerously at him. “I hate you.” He just gives you a wink before slipping out the door. Wanting to scold yourself, you tangle your fingers in your hair, trying to convince yourself that was a perfectly normal interaction with him and there isn’t anything to read into. Not that insufferable smirk, or the way his golden eyes pin you in your seat.

You are royally fucked until you get over this.

Snapping you into reality, Akaashi clears his throat from the hallway behind you. “I swear if you say one goddamn word,” you threaten, shoving your mug into the sink and storming past a rather smug looking Akaashi.

On campus later that afternoon, Kuroo is on his way towards the station on the other side of campus to go home when ahead of him he spots one of the students he tutors coming the opposite direction. After tutoring you so successfully in chemistry, you had encouraged him to get a job at the tutoring center and he’s been working there since his second year. And this particular student, although he knows she means well, is by no means shy about her infatuation with him.

Just earlier today he tutored here and part of him thinks she actually does understand chemistry, but just makes appointments at the center solely to spend time with him. And today she asked him about the party being thrown by several sports clubs tonight, wondering if the volleyball club is a part of it.

He knows about the party, but the volleyball club had opted to not help host it and he had yet to ask the others if they wanted to attend. So, he’d given her a non-committal response.

When the session ended, she’d left with a suggestive, “Well, I hope to see you there Kuroo-kun!”

He can’t help that seeing her coming at him from the other direction, he instinctively panics and scans his surroundings for somewhere to hide until she passes. It’s then that he hears your familiar laughter fill the air and he immediately locates you sitting on the lawn with Akaashi. Relief fills him and without even thinking, he strides off the pavement into the grass and abruptly plops down beside you.

“Kuroo? What the—”

“Hi, sorry, please help me out.” He motions with his head in the direction of his tutee.

You tilt your head to glance behind his shoulder, catching sight of the girl whose been pursuing Kuroo since he started tutoring him at the beginning of the semester. “This is ridiculous.” You giggle quietly at the 6’2” volleyball player trying to hide behind your frame.

“You can’t just stop to chat for a few minutes?” Akaashi asks in a hushed tone.

“She’s going to ask me to go to a party with her tonight.”

“Ah,” you say in understanding. Kuroo is far too nice to tell her no flat out.

And despite his attempts to avoid her, she spots him anyways and makes a detour out onto the lawn to talk to him. “Hi Kuroo-kun! Done with classes for the day?”

“Hey Suzuki.” He admirably gives her a warm smile. “Yeah, just enjoying the rest of the afternoon.” He feels awful. She’s a nice girl, but unfortunately, he’s pathetically in love with the one sitting next to him.

“Have you decided about the party yet?”

Unsurprisingly, Kuroo turns to the two of you for the answer. You shrug, looking at Akaashi. “Sounds fun, we haven’t been to a party in a while. Think Bo will be up for it?”

“Bokuto? Up for a party? Never.”

You chuckle at that and try not to laugh at the glare Kuroo points in your direction. He was hoping you’d say no, so he doesn’t have to endure advances from Suzuki all night.

Suzuki grins and tells him she’ll see him tonight before bounding off, and once she’s out of earshot he grips your arm hissing, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Don’t worry.” You nudge him. “We’ll protect you all night. C’mon, lets have fun tonight!”

He’s in no position to deny you.

The party is already in full swing by the time you all get there, and Bokuto is none too shy to immediately drag Akaashi out onto the thumping dancefloor. You can’t help smiling softly at them, knowing that only Bokuto can get Akaashi to loosen up like that. Meanwhile, you and Kuroo hang back near the bar, sipping idly from your cups, laughing at Bokuto’s dance moves.

Though the unease rolling off Kuroo is palpable. Despite making humorous comments about how Bokuto is bound to take out someone’s eye with his limbs flailing around like that, he can’t hide his nervous glances as he scans the crowd for Suzuki.

Eventually he spots her, and he’s not sure how she hasn’t spotted him yet. He thought she’d be actively on the lookout for him, but instead she’s chatting with some other people, and unaware of his presence yet. He’s unsure if he can handle a night of being pursued by her but god—he also can’t stomach breaking her heart either. Not when he has to tutor her for the rest of the semester.

Glancing down at you next to him, he follows your gaze fixed on the dancefloor, smiling softly at your two friends enjoying themselves. “You want to dance?” He shoves off the wall to stand in front of you.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say let’s have some fun tonight?” He jabs a thumb behind him. “Looks like fun to me.”

A grin spreads across your lips that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Following him down to the floor, you both shove your way through the crowd to reach Akaashi and Bokuto near the middle of the mass of people. When you arrive, Bokuto shouts a happy greeting and takes your hands into his to help you start dancing before returning his attention to Akaashi. There’s not much room down here, pressing you close against Kuroo, but you don’t think much of at as you’re pressed close to everyone around you too.

But Kuroo can’t think of anything but how close you are. Your laughter filling his ears as you lift your hands and start moving your hips to the beat—he realizes what a terrible idea this was. He wants to set his hands on those hips so bad and pull you even closer against him, close enough that he can feel your heartbeat against his chest and—fuck, he’s going to lose it tonight.

Before he can spiral into his fantasies about you, he instinctively looks for Suzuki again to see if she’s noticed him yet. He hopes he’s obscured enough on the dancefloor that it gives him a bit longer before the onslaught of suggestive words and here she won’t be pressured to keep it in check like she is on campus.

But just as he’s about to overthink that situation, a warm hand reaches up to grasp his face pulling his attention back to you. Any thoughts he had are tossed out the window as you stare at him openly and seriously.

“That doesn’t look like fun.” You point out.

“She’s here.”

You do a quick survey of the room and locate her; blissfully unaware the object of her infatuation is right under her nose. “Why don’t you just reject her?” You say out of the blue, startling him. He opens his mouth to object, but you just continue, “I get that you think you’re too nice and all, but wouldn’t it be nicer than leading her on like this?”

He has no argument against that.

“In my experience, most girls would much prefer you be honest with them. Just tell her you’re not interested. Simple.”

He stares at you. Mulling over the words you just said.

Be honest with them.

“You’re right,” he says, no longer thinking about Suzuki. “I’m not interested in her.”

“See? I told you, easy—”

“I’m interested in you.”

You make a small choking noise and blink dumbfounded at him. “That’s not funny.”

His expression doesn’t change, and your knees almost buckle under the weight of his stare. “It’s not a joke.”

“You…you—what? That’s…what?” He tries not to chuckle that he’s broken you into being unable to put together a sentence. “For how long?”

He shrugs, a little embarrassed to admit it. “A while.”

“I—ugh. You’re damn lucky I realized it recently too.” His eyes widen, lips curving into a smile as you throw your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

He’s perfect and warm and solid against you, kissing you like he’s thought about this moment a million times. And by god is he fucking good at it. In the back of your mind, you swear you hear Bokuto’s whoop of excitement breaking through the music shouting, “Finally!!”

#Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader #haikyuuwritersnet #hqwnsecretsummer #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine #kuroo tetsurou scenario #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario

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elichorph · 3 years

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OH SHIT???? did you see avery jeong buying princess bandaids at the local cvs after punching out somebody’s car window??? anyways, he’s a legacy and a member of the yale's elite, they're twenty-three and a 1st year grad student majoring in mechanical engineering. they are as strong willed as they are naive.

hello, i am back with my third character. yes this is my second character that has a 5 letter name that starts with an a. yes this intro is extremely long. if you read it i will send you a gif of your fav celeb to thank you.

stats:

full name: avery tobias jeong nicknames: ave age: twenty three birthday: march 8, 1998 ( yeah he’s technically 22 right now but he’ll be 23 soon enough ) chart: pisces sun, aries moon, cancer rising siblings: one ( lilia, younger sister ) gender: cis male pronouns: he / him sexuality: bisexual & biromantic height: 6′0 hair color: black tattoos: random tattoos on his arms, faded hand tattoos (specifically an angel on his left hand) piercings: right earlobe ring

blackmail:

( violence & drugs tw )

he had an unplanned child at nineteen with his ex-girlfriend who he now has little to no contact with. his ex dug up a public intoxication charge that avery’s family had paid to cover up in order to place a restraining order on him and deny him custody of the child.

he was involved in an underground fighting ring for multiple years as a means to make money after being cut off by his family. however, he always took fights too far and was banned from the ring in new haven after he nearly killed one of his opponents.

family:

if you’ve already read lilia’s intro then you can skip this because it’s the same thing!

ya’ll ever read one of those drug ring ao3 fanfics where y/n is dating the sexy drug cartel leader? well that’s their family!

generational family blood money because that’s how cartels work i think. started running + dealing three generations back with their great-grandparents in order for them to make a living. it wasn’t until the so-called business was handed down to their grandparents that they wanted to expand and generate more money. the big pharma cover was created in order for them to manufacture, distribute, and supply at a larger scale. present day, their family name has notoriety with other cartel and mafia families.

basically avery was supposed to take over because he was the oldest right, but lilia did not want that at all. their parents started favoring avery and schmoozing up to him a little bit to get him to say yes (even though avery was fully prepared to give lilia the position) and lilia was like! what the fuck! so she told their parents about this one time that avery accidentally blabbed the family secret to a stranger at a party which broke their one rule of keeping it a secret. their parents wanted nothing to do with him anymore and completely cut avery off and kicked him out of the family.

everyone knows that avery and lilia are siblings, even though they don’t really know the actual details about their past together because avery doesn’t say anything about his family and the cartel is a secret. now that they are both at yale and in the elites together they are just kinda like haha awkward <3 they basically would just tell everyone that they grew apart if other characters tried to pry but also lilia is now telling people that avery fucked up a business decision which is why he left the family and avery is like alright but good luck trying to get other info out of them! xo, the jeongs

present:

after being kicked out of his family, avery booked it to new haven to attend yale. he was able to score a full ride after graduating as the valedictorian of a specialized school for science in nyc and for continuously staying near if not at the top of his class. literally this man is a casual genius. he will get drunk as hell and talk about math for the entire night even if you don’t care. avery joined the elites in his junior year and even though he technically is a legacy from his family, he told them that if he was going to join, he wanted to be recruited for his academics because fuck if he was going to use his family name!

to expand a little more on blackmails, avery was broke as shit after coming to new haven. he still is, but he literally had so little money to his name and eventually found an underground fighting ring and made money by winning matches through that because he is Beefy and a Unit and his anger issues could be released <3 but he would always go a little too hard and would near murk his opponents, especially this one time that caused him to be banned from the ring. now for money he just fixes up people’s air conditioners and fridges and shit and also works maintenance at a hotel chain around connecticut to get money when he really needs it <3 literally if you need something fixed hit him up and he’ll be happy to do it but he would also love if you made him dinner to thank him because he has eaten too much kraft mac n cheese.

when avery was a sophomore, his girlfriend of a few months accidentally got pregnant whoops <3 and he was ready to literally drop everything for his girlfriend and daughter, but his girlfriend didn’t want that because she was lowkey a bitch! she ended up using a secret that avery had told her (that he had a public intoxication charge that his family had covered up) and took him to court and got his custody rights taken away and a restraining order placed on him and then dropped out of yale before anybody could know about the baby and zoomed to another state and now avery is like ok <3 his daughter’s name is skye though and she is four now and sometimes he still gets updates but literally it eats him alive hahaha

personality:

basically paddington going through an emo phase. he has extreme rbf and might be a solid unit who looks intimidating, but he genuinely is so sweet. by his looks you’d expect him to push you down the stairs but in reality he’s the kid who is 20 minutes late to class to hold the door open for people and he’ll feel good about it even if nobody says thank you to him.

certified sad boy! the extremely nice guy you meet at a house party who remembers what drink you like from some time you apparently met three months ago? avery loves house parties for real and will be the angel who cleans up at 5am even if he’s got an exam at 8. he loves to take care of people to fill his fatherly void even though he’s the one that needs help the most.

accepts the fact that he’s now #poor now, but he also gets kind of insecure and jealous seeing everybody pop off with a britney work bitch vc bugatti. tries to keep up with people looks wise at least, he has one old balenciaga cross body bag that has holes in it, way too many ripped pairs of designer jeans, and a scratched gucci belt that you will see him sporting often. might want to bash your face in if you flaunt your wealth and gets kind of whiny about it sometimes.

avery is the type of person that loves the outdoors and going on picnics. his romantic dream is to lay under a tree with the soft summer breeze and play some guitar for the love of his life <3 yes he has a guitar and yes he is actually good at singing even though he gets embarrassed about it. he fucking loves music.

still has that aries moon though, is extremely defensive and my one character who will actually fight in the group chat because what the fuck does he have to lose at this point! avery has extreme anger issues that hurt him more than anything. even though he’s banned from the underground fighting ring, he still needs an outlet and will have his hands shoved in his pockets because they’re either bruised to shit or discolored from how many times they have been bruised. can be found walking home after taking the late bus so he could go scream in a field somewhere.

this man? also naive as fuck. has been hurt by too many people and really just sets him up at this point. an open book most of the time, so much that it hurts him. will tell you everything about himself like the way he can’t sleep in silence and has to have ocean noises playing, but he can’t listen to whale noises because sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night and thinks it’s a ghost. however, his family stuff is off limits and he will spit in your face if you even think about asking him about it.

won’t hold grudges. the type to see a person for who they are as a whole and if they mess up, he’s just like “you’re better than that /: but it’s fine.” probably why he gets hurt so much

wanted connections

a roommate maybe? i pictured him living in an apartment because he probably wouldn’t be able afford live anywhere else. could be besties, could be someone he barely knows but he just needed someone to move in to split the rent.

the one person who he’ll let take care of him. it probably would take a lot to break through his walls, but this person can calm him down after he gets riled up.

since his ex went to yale, maybe one person who knew her and had somewhat of an idea of what happened. they don’t know everything but maybe from what they heard from his ex, they believe everything was avery’s fault and that he fucked her over entirely.

gut wrenching hate plots of where they really love each other but things just can’t work out for one way or another.

gentle romance <3 slow burn. someone who won’t hurt him PLEASE.

aaaaand someone who takes advantage of how naive he is

and friends. so many friends. he is just so friendly and he isn’t the type to hold shit over people’s heads.

other links

#intro

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lovelyirony · 5 years

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Hello friend! I'm in a mood and just feel like reading something sad. Could you pretty please maybe write some sad winteriron? Maybe something to do with terminal illness but it's up to you!

Being human means that there are many things that could happen to you and you can’t help it.

Like cancer.

Or being hit by a bus.

Maybe a heart condition that you didn’t know about until you were thirty-two, had weird chest pains, and then found you didn’t have genetic testing done and neither parent told you about any extensive medical history because they both were estranged from the family.

Okay. That was specific.

But Tony was laying in a hospital bed and the doctors told him that he wouldn’t live past forty and he would die of heart failure.

He feels like he should be hit harder by this. He only has eight years left to live. He shouldn’t be in his kitchen making eggs, he should probably be hysterically calling Rhodey and Pepper and Happy and asking them about funeral arrangements and what he’s going to do and quite possibly if spending the extra money to get the executive suite at the fancy hotel in Switzerland is worth it.

Except he doesn’t want to.

Death is a messy process. Not for him, they assured him of that. But everyone asks you questions and your loved ones. You have to figure out where to bury someone if they didn’t do it beforehand. Sometimes you have debates about cremation. Other times about how much you want to spend on a casket.

He really doesn’t want to look at Rhodey or Pepper or Happy when they talk about that because he knows that their faces will break into tears and he will see the tear tracks when they go home to their houses and cry some more.

Nonsense.

If he can hide it, then he will. He doesn’t want to be a bother, it would be...unfortunate.

Besides. He’s lonely at the top, and there’s no climbing back down the mountain. He won’t pull a Scrooge and get visited by three ghosts.

So he lives.

He pulls some risky moves, but nothing that makes Pepper have the “are you up to something serious that could potentially cause my midlife crisis to go off-schedule” talk.

Again.

He donates more money to charities and helps people pay off medical bills and walks around New York late at night to wonder why he’s going to die in eight or maybe even seven years instead of the proposed twenty to thirty. (What? He wasn’t going to be too generous, he knew himself.)

Tony wonders sometimes if he will meet someone and they will make him want to live so much more than he can. It will be like those romantic dramas with rainfall and hair plastered to foreheads and passionate kisses that leave some of the older women teary-eyed and wishing that their husband would do something like that.

But he’s a genius, so he knows statistics like the back of his hand.

There will be no one.

Eight turns into seven. He celebrates by getting absolutely slammed on New Year’s Eve and wakes up to the shittiest radio station blaring. He’s pretty sure they’re playing Maroon 5, which fucking ugh.

New Year, new resolutions. He doesn’t bother to make one.

“Why not? You usually make a joke one,” Rhodey says.

“We are all going to die,” Tony answers. “Why make a resolution if I don’t want to? If I were to die in a year, it wouldn’t really matter.”

“Okay Lord Byron,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “You want Hot Topic giftcards for your birthday? Huh?”

Tony laughs.

Rhodey always knows how to make him laugh.

Tony doesn’t know how he’s going to make Rhodey laugh when he’s dead. So that’s a breaking point where he stares at the wall and starts to write random memories down, like the time they snuck up onto a hotel’s roof to see the city wake up and the wind chapped their lips and Tony swore that he’d never leave Rhodey.

Except he is.

And he realizes that he needs to let Pepper and Rhodey and Happy know that he loves them a lot. So he starts the letters.

He writes a letter to Pepper to remind her about how much she regrets getting light blue nail polish every single time she gets a manicure, and she should never get it. (Yes, even for a wedding she’s in, get something, anything other than that.)

He writes a letter to Happy that is basically just wondering about how they can troll asshole celebrities that they know. He doesn’t know, but maybe he will find some dirt so that if Happy ever falls on dire times, he will have some extra cash flow coming in. Not that Tony would let that happen, but say Happy ever did. Maybe someone stole his bank information. Who knows what will happen in seven or six years.

Summer still sucks. He thinks maybe he’ll like it more, now that he knows that his heart is going to quit. But it still smells like piss and garbage on the streets of New York, people are still blasting shitty music and riding bikes too dangerously, and he still feels gross by two p.m. when he goes outside to face the world.

Not even the treat of shaved ice helps this.

“At least I won’t have to face another one in seven years,” Tony murmurs. “Thank god for that.”

Seven turns into six.

It’s around this time when an attractive redhead shows up at his office, bends down a bit lower than necessary, and Tony gets the feeling that SHIELD should really train their agents a bit better if they want something out of him.

He organizes a meeting with Fury, walks in, and states that they cannot afford him.

“You know that your help would be particularly useful,” Fury says.

“For you to get what?” He asks. “Don’t bullshit me with some answer about compassion. Peggy Carter was kind, but she wasn’t a damned saint.”

“There are new...developments.”

Like the fact that they’ve found Captain America. And Bucky Barnes didn’t fall off into a random ravine, so the four different conspiracy theory documentary videos that Tony watched last year were about five hours of wasted time.

They need somewhere to stay. Fury wants Tony to foot the bill.

“What, can’t ask the government for funding?” Tony asks. “I’m sure if they can up the budget for military every year, that covers Cap and his old pal. Hell, I bet they’ll even open up the champagne fridges.”

“They don’t know about it.”

“And why would that be? Because you’d rather have idols to yourself?”

It’s a low-blow. But Tony agrees to take them in. He just doesn’t want to see them, notably because his father was a bit of a Captain America fan, Tony had had a crush on the former sharpshooter when he was a younger guy, and it was all kinds of messed up.

But he gives them their own little apartment, one of his safehouses.

“This ain’t little,” Steve mutters to himself, unpacking a box of plates. Natasha has been nice enough to show them around and tell them about the changes she finds relevant. She forced them to listen to what she called ‘the goddess of pop’ in the car, and Bucky nearly clawed out the stereo after “Toxic” came on.

“Fuckin’ palace,” Bucky mutters. “Who’s is this?”

“A man in high places,” Natasha answers. “He doesn’t want to be known. Doesn’t exactly play well with others.”

She leaves them be, and there’s so much that has changed. Steve is still looking for any sign of the past he can find in Bucky, and Bucky...

He’s not who he used to be. He doesn’t remember half the shit that Steve does. Perks of having your brain so fried up that you can barely remember your middle name.

They eat together in silence.

“I guess...I guess we have to figure out who we really are,” Steve says. “Because you’re not who I remember, and I’m not...I guess I’m not either.”

Bucky nods.

“Do you reckon we’ll like going out dancing?”

The answer is a strong no, although Steve has to say the drinks have improved a hell of a lot more. He likes the ones that come with the small paper umbrellas. He doesn’t know where they get them, but it gives him an idea for an art project.

Tony doesn’t hear much about the wonder boys. He doesn’t want to, not really. Natasha just says they’re getting more and more adjusted and she has evidence of Steve Rogers going clubbing.

“Oh my god,” Tony groans. “Romanoff, do not.”

“It’s funny.”

“I don’t wanna know.”

“What, you jealous that you’re not dancing with him?”

“Hardly. Blonde and beefy isn’t my type.”

“Then what is?”

“Classified.” Tony answered. “Now, is there anything else you want SHIELD to suck out of me?”

“Well, my manicure funding is getting rather low...”

Tony snorts, but points towards the door.

His chest hurts. It’s been happening. He’s actually gotten used to it. In a way, he’s more concerned when it doesn’t hurt. He went to another specialist. They say his death sentence is signed, even if they don’t word it like that. Here’s how it is usually worded:

“I have a colleague who works at insert-clinic/hospital-here...I can refer you to Dr. So-and-So?”

They can. But it’s another list of referrals of so-and-so’s and clinics and appointments at the most inopportune times.

All for nothing, because Tony knows that he can’t be fixed. The human body sometimes works like a machine. But it’s not one. It’d be like Tony calling a dog a wolf. Similar, but no one wants to bring a wolf into their house as a pet.

He gets a phone call from someone named Deputy Director Hill.

He needs a new arm.

Barnes needs a new arm. Of course he does. Tony should’ve expected that, of course. Hydra isn’t exactly known for revolutionizing prosthetics or being particularly kind to their projects that they work on. So Tony automatically has a one-up.

He gets Barnes to come to this mechanic garage, surrounded by old tin signs and vintage cars that cost more than most of the monthly rent of penthouses in New York.

Bucky does a double-take.

“Howard?”

“I hope not,” Tony answers. “Hop up on the chair for me, please. I’m getting you a new arm.”

“This is fine,” Barnes automatically spouts. Tony can see the damage from here, and can even point out that the arm’s reaction time is probably the worst it has been currently.

“If you want to stick to your Great Depression ideals, then by all means be my guest and go bitch in a grocery store about prices,” Tony responds dryly. “But if you want an arm that’s gonna be actually good, then sit.”

So he does.

Tony looks incredibly similar to his father. But there’s something different about him. Something softer, almost. Bucky didn’t know Howard nearly as well as others did, but he knew that Tony wasn’t his father.

“How are you adjusting to the city?” Tony asks.

"Still the shithole we all know and love,” Bucky swears. “I think the rats got bigger.”

“They did. It’s amusing and horrifying at the same time. You ride the subway yet?”

“Yes and I’ve come to terms with it. Lots of new things to learn about it.”

Barnes’ visits become more frequent. They talk about New York stuff. Tony tells him all about the fun events that have happened that he missed while he was doing time as an icicle.

It’s nice, talking to him. Tony finally has someone who understands fatalistic humor and doesn’t respond with

“That’s scary, Tony.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky just says “cheers” and decides to tell Tony about the time he nearly died in 1992 because he lost his footing on the Eiffel Tower.

Tony laughs, and laughs harder than he thought he had in a long time.

Six turns into five.

Bucky gets closer, and they have...something. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows that they go on breakfast dates most of the time and he knows the coffee orders by heart.

“I think you’ve found someone,” Pepper says, teasing. “Look at you.”

“Yeah, look at me,” Tony murmurs.

He has five years left. That’s plenty of time to date someone and break up, right?

Except.

It’s...wonderful to date Bucky. They go all over, have fun trying the shittiest restaurants in town, and even get Steve to get out more and socialize with the group.

They date and celebrate holidays together and have fun candles and--

Five turns into four.

“Not that bad,” Tony whispers to himself when he’s getting ready for bed.

“What’s not bad?” Bucky asks.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Just got a new toothpaste.”

They watch It’s a Wonderful Life and Tony can’t really focus, not when he’s thinking about the fact that he still hasn’t picked out a design for his urn.

Not when he realizes that he needs to break up with Bucky and make it a whole big scene so that no one will talk to him. It has to be about two years before the date, he thinks.

He goes to another Dr. So-and-So. They say he might actually have one more year, but who knows.

He doesn’t.

But he wakes up with Bucky every day and they make breakfast, and he thinks that maybe he could tell him? Maybe?

The words get stuck in his mouth.

He can’t.

He meets with his lawyer for the will.

“Why making sudden changes?”

“Just like to shake things up,” Tony says with a smile. “Never know what’s going to happen, right?”

“You are right about that,” the lawyer says. He’s a bit uncomfortable. Tony Stark looks at him like he knows that his life is short and that something else will come up. But it’s not the lawyer’s job to ask if things really are okay, and it’s not like Tony would tell him anyway.

So he makes the changes to the will.

Tony looks at Bucky as he’s napping, face so peaceful.

He can’t ruin that.

#lovelyirony writes #for some reason tumblr never lets me put in a 'read more' link until like after i've done all this shit so here's to hoping this works #winteriron #:(#hope this fits the sad theme anon #tony stark #bucky barnes #rhodey #pepper potts #happy hogan #steve rogers

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thehermitbear · 4 years

Photo

I was tagged by @actualsunflower ❤❤❤

Name? ➔ “Gabriel Jimenez. My friends call me Gabe, Gabby, or General.”

Are you single? ➔ “Nah. Put a ring on Preston as soon as it felt right.”

Are you happy? ➔ “Very. I made the Commonwealth the safest region on the East coast. Turns out a little military training goes a long way.”

Are you angry? ➔ “Only if you’re trying to fuck over people who ain’t done nothing wrong.”

Are your parents still married? ➔ “They were until my padre got sick working on an oil rig off the Gulf Coast. Chemical leak. Mama never remarried.”

NINE FACTS

Birthplace? ➔ “Laredo, Texas.”

Hair color? ➔ “Black, but Preston likes to pretend he’s counting how many grays I’m getting. I love when he calls me ‘old man’.”

Eye color? ➔ “Brown.”

Birthday? ➔ “January 11th.”

Mood? ➔ “Generally, I try to stay laid back when it comes to things I can’t change. Always try to look on the bright side, y’know, but I can come off as a bit of a stiff in today’s crowd. Two hundred years and anyone would stick out like a sore thumb.”

Gender? ➔ “100% Grade ‘A’ man. Pure beef. Okay, I lied. I have a dangler, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter to me what I am. I feel good in both fatigues and a dress so neither I guess. I am beefy though.”

Summer or winter? ➔ “Winter. People resort to cuddling me for warmth because I’m a natural hot-rock. Win-win situation.”

Morning or afternoon? ➔ “Morning. I feel like my garden is more awake then and I like to encourage the flowers and crops when they’re not napping.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

Are you in love? ➔ “Honestly, Piper? I think I found my soul-mate. Don’t get me wrong, my late wife Nora was amazing. I still think about her. Preston reminds me of her sometimes, especially when he scrunches his face up when I do something dumb, but he’s also a completely different person entirely. Half of me didn’t seem to wanna move on at first out of respect for Nora’s memory, but the other half just clicked with him the moment I met him. I think she would’ve liked him. He means everything to me now.”

Do you believe in love at first sight? ➔ “Happened to me twice now.”

Who ended your last relationship? ➔ “The mother-fucker who’s gun in hanging over my mantle place and collecting dust, right now. He thought he knew how shit worked, just like every other rotten sonofabitch I ran out of Boston. Thought because the world dealt him a shitty hand, that justified him shooting my wife in cold-blood. I don’t fuckin care what life did to you, the moment you take it out on someone who did you no wrong to you, you just completed the cycle and became as bad as the villain in your own story. It was no wonder that his life ended at the barrel of the 10mm pistol I’d named after her. l put her away when I’d gotten my skin, buried with my whip-smart, beautiful Nora and that’s when I really accepted I’d never see her again.”

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? ➔ “I used to be quit the heart-throb in my day, before the war. My face was on posters, I did public talks, felt like Elvis, y’know? My Army days are a bit of blur now, but I do regret saying I maybe flirted with one too many naive hopefuls.”

Are you afraid of commitments? ➔ “Not in the slightest. I love risk. Y’know, Nora was actually a government agent sent to keep an eye on me? Y’know, cause of the prototype super soldier stuff. She flirted and I dove head first. I took my time with Preston, though. It still feels like he’s out of my league and I didn’t wanna bother him with my baggage an matching luggage.”

Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Piper, please. We made the ‘cuddle puddle formation’ just last night when we were watching Loony Tunes in my house. I’m pretty sure I hugged: You, Preston, Dogmeat, Codwsorth for a little bit before he got squirrelly, Deacon, my second dad Longfellow, Nick, Joe, Cait, Strong, Ada, Curie, my five other dogs Gracie, Mishka, Duke, Sophie, and Screwball, and those Brotherhood boys came over too. Bruce and Danse, I think? X-6 was busy and Porter doesn’t really cuddle. I don’t know, there might of been more there. Point is I hug, a lot. (Out of character: Bruce is another OC. More on him later?)

Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔ “I used to be famous. Had tons of those I’m sure. If only they knew.”

Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Oh yea, but that comes with life. It’s like a term I heard from a fellow squaddie. She called it ‘Kintsugi’. Means when I break and repair the damage, and I come out with a unique design.”

SIX CHOICES

Love or lust? ➔ “My other head gets the better of me most of the time, twice now that has led be down the path to love, so I guess both?”

Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced tea. Living in Texas, even during the pandemic, you could roll up to any joint and get a gallon of un-sweet delight for just sixteen bucks. Pretty cheap if you ask me.”

Cats or dogs? ➔ “Dogs. Preston has a cat, “Endicott’, and I try to be friendly with the feral creature but I swear it’s up to something. It just stares at me, menacingly.”

A few best friends or many regular friends? ➔ “I seem to make friends anywhere I go. Deacon says it’s because I have ‘charisma’ but I think my seven foot tall stature just makes people wanna be on my good side. Who knows?”

Wild night out or romantic night in? ➔ “Both. I make sure to mix it up with my ‘rey amor mio’”

Day or night? ➔ “Oddly enough, night-time in this new world is so beautiful. The stars are out, no air pollution, I have plenty of time to finish up my paperwork for the Minutemen in fucking peace. It’s quiet.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

Been caught sneaking out? ➔ “I would never...Okay that can be fact checked. Don’t include this okay, but yea, I sneak out from the Castle all the time. Gotta get away from Ronnie sometimes.”

Fallen down/up the stairs? ➔ “Never. I have the reflexes of a weasel... I think.”

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Yup.”

Wanted to disappear? ➔ “...Yea...Don’t wanna talk about it though.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

Smile or eyes? ➔ “Jeez. Can’t pick. Preston has both in spades. If he smiled at me an looked at me with those eyes I’d jump off a cliff at his command.”

Shorter or taller? ➔ “Doesn’t matter. Although, I’m seven feet tall so everyone’s shorter than me.”

Intelligence or attraction? ➔ “What?”

Hook-up or relationship? ➔ “I’ve done both. Preston is my choice.”

FAMILY

Do you and your family get along? ➔ “The Minutemen are my family. I try to make sure anyone who signs up for our lifestyle is known and compensated. Only had a few men go AWOL in the first few months, but most came after watching our progress. My closest friends are even closer. I would do anything for them.”

Would you say you have a “messed up life”? ➔ “Oh, definitely. I’m considered pre-war. That in itself it a fucked up term. I watched my padre die, joined the Army at sixteen, agreed to horrible experiments out of desperation, got my leg blown off in Anchorage, watched my wife die and my baby-boy kidnapped, and now I have to live in a world two hundred years older than the world I left behind when a fucking greedy, sadistic corporation called ‘Vault-Tec’ froze me. I’m still trying to get used to everything and probably won’t be able to ever feel at home ever again. Preston had to teach me a lot. That’s not even the short of it.”

Have you ever ran away from home? ➔ “One time when my older sister was arguing with my parents I got mad that no one was paying attention to me so I packed up my toys and made it a block before I got lost and started crying. Mama found me and I never ran away again.”

Have you ever gotten kicked out? ➔ “Feel like I got kicked out of the Army. I was supposed to be there big ticket to Anchorage, and I did win it back, but when they saw their ‘Super Soldier’ got his leg blasted off, they dropped me like a hot sack of shit. Still stings.”

FRIENDS

Do you secretly hate one of your friends? ➔ “They just need more love.”

Do you consider all of your friends good friends? ➔ “I have somehow managed to turn the Brotherhood to the Minutemen’s side. Long story. I met an Institute Courser and helped him with his personal issues. He’s my buddy now. Met a raider in Nuka-World during the Nuka-Siege, he’s currently in the Castle giving us counter-intel on raider tactics. I consider even the most unlikely of people I’ve met to be important friends. Not because they help, but because I hope the path I’ve offered them all is a road to peace and recovery.”

Who is your best friend? ➔ “Uh...Preston, Dogmeat, Codsworth, Gracie, Mishka, Sophie, Duke, Deacon, Longfellow, Hancock, Joe, Piper, Curie, Ada, Strong, Cait, Danse and Bruce, I guess, oh I forgot about X-6 and my crack-head dog Screwball. I would probably tell all of these people my secrets. Maybe.”

Who knows everything about you? ➔ “Preston, and no Piper, he won’t tell you nothing about the secret stash either, either.”

I tag anyone who wants in on the fun.

#fallout #fallout 4 #oc #tag

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maunderponder · 5 years

Text

My BooOOOOOK??

Laughter Lines recently got a ton of new love (AND IT WAS REC’D BY ONE OF MY FAVORITE ARTISTS??? AHHHHHH THANK YOU!!!) and I realized I really owe everyone an explanation for where I’ve been and why the story hasn’t been updated in so long.

While there have been a few medical reasons (had issues with a gallbladder and needed to have surgery earlier this year and now we have baby #2 on the way! Pregnancy is exhausting LOL), the biggest contributing factor is I WROTE A NOVEL!!! With finishing the first draft, editing, and now preparing to self-publish, the book has completely occupied all my writing time.

A young adult fantasy, the book is about a seventeen-year-old named Alvis who possesses a gift of inexplicable strength. Raised in the slums by his genius-mechanic father, Alvis wants to use his strength to help people, but his temper gets in him in trouble instead. Level-headed Rae is a half-dragon, half-human hybrid called a Guardian. A wanted criminal, Rae carries with him the trauma from his time as a gladiator, when he was forced to fight against (and kill) other Guardians for the entertainment of the wealthy. Despite their differences, Alvis and Rae can agree on one thing: they fight best when they’re fighting alone. But when faced with the corruption in their homeland, Zen, one thing becomes clear- they’ll have to keep each other alive if they want to survive.

It’s got magic, white-haired dragon boys, and a gay MC who has a thing for guys with biceps and strong jawlines, and is really bad at flirting with them. I wanted to share it today because I’ve gotten so much support for my Klance fic and thought it might be something of interest for those of you who enjoy my writing :)

The book will be released in summer of 2019. You can look at the indiegogo campaign here! I’ll also include a sample from Chapter 1 under the cut, and you can read the full first two chapters here!

I’m currently working on the next chapter of Laugher Lines in between writing book 2 of WtLDD. My goal is to have it up before VLD’s final season’s premier date (SOBBING) and then the final chapter up by Christmas, so keep a look out! :)

Alvis Witt was trouble.

He was almost always at the center of it, and when he wasn’t it was always close behind him. He was a dangerous boy. He would break your nose, perhaps your jaw, maybe even a few limbs for good measure, if you simply looked at him the wrong way. He grinned at the sight of blood, made deals with shady folks in dark alleys at night, and was once seen bullying a child to the point of tears.

At least, that’s what the gossiping old ladies in the neighborhood would have you believe.

Even though it was all complete bullshit.

(Okay, mostly complete bullshit.)

First of all, Alvis did not “grin” when he saw blood. In fact, it kinda made him gag sometimes, and it was annoying to get out of clothes.

Second, his dad would, without a single doubt, most definitely kill him dead if he caught a glimpse of Alvis hanging around with “shady folks”.

Oh, and that whole making a kid cry thing? That was one, big misunderstanding because- well, yes, Alvis did make that kid cry, but what actually happened was he accidentally knocked the kid’s ice cream cone out of his hand. Then he replaced the cone with the last of his paycheck, but of course that part conveniently gets left out of all those dumb rumors constantly spread through the neighborhood about his reputation.

As for the rest of the snarky gossip surrounding him-

Well, that stuff he had a much weaker defense against.

Still, Alvis Witt wasn’t dangerous; he didn’t get into all those fights because he wanted to (… most of the time). Whether it was because people believed those rumors and sought him out for a fight, or because some snotty rich dude thought he could treat someone like trash, he always attracted trouble. His dad kept trying to teach him about restraint, that he didn’t need to rise to every taunt or challenge someone tossed his way, but the lessons never really stuck.

Maybe one day they would, but, right then, all Alvis could do was dodge the oncoming fist, then respond with one of his own.

“You son of a bitch!” The beefy guy pushed himself up to his knees from where he’d slammed onto the ground, his bleeding nose dripping red into the disrupted snow. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Dude, you’re the one who attacked me for no reason,” Alvis said as he shook out his fist and smirked down at him. “Which is weird, considering what a weakling you are.”

The man let out an enraged cry and lunged forward, his movements sloppy and disoriented. Alvis sidestepped, then grabbed the man by his hair. He yanked his head down to not so gently meet Alvis’s rising knee.

The man fell limply to the ground.

Alvis watched the man’s stilled form for a moment, pausing to see if the fight was really over or not. When the man didn’t move even after Alvis nudged him with his foot, he heaved a sigh. He stepped over the guy to grab the lunchbag he had abandoned the instant he sensed a fist coming at him. Alvis’s hands shook as he picked it up, adrenaline flowing through him, making his fingers itch for more and setting his nerves on fire even through the biting cold. He glanced back, hopeful to see if the beaten man was still conscious- maybe even ready for a second round…

Okay, fine. Alvis did enjoy the fight a little bit. He was good at fighting. Probably the only thing he was good at. Sure, he could paint okay, and he was the most efficient worker when he wasn’t, you know, getting fired. But throwing punches, reading opponents movements, and knocking people onto their asses? That came naturally to him as breathing.

Because fighting was his heart pumping adrenaline into his veins. Fighting was knowing how to smile.

Fighting was a curse.

He really couldn’t call it anything else. Not when he dreamt of using his hands to create, and maybe help people, or even improve the world. But Alvis wasn’t good at fighting simply because it was a part of him; he had a gift life so graciously granted him since he was a child:

Incredible strength.

Maybe to others, his goals sounded simple and cliche, but for him, his strength made them unattainable no matter how hard he tried. He always went in with good intentions in mind, but somehow he failed, and then another rumor would start about the son of that genius mechanic who was tainting the family legacy.

Which… Alvis didn’t particularly disagree with, but he didn’t enjoy thinking about.

The morning bells in the distance pulled him out of his musings, reminding him he was about to be late for work. All need for a fight drained from his body as he took off sprinting, leaving his opponent behind in the snow.

#laughter lines #ya fantasy #novel #lgbt #when the last dragon died #the guardian

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whirlybirbs · 6 years

Text

studying.

pairing: college!peter x reader rating: all audiences welcome to this fluff what to listen to: roll up by fitz & the tantrums a/n: for the anons who gave me some ideas, here is the start of a potential series? or, as i would say, peter crushes on his TA.

After months of applications and tours and accepted student days, Peter had finally settled on MIT.

(It had helped that Tony had written his recommendation letter. A lot.)

September brings a new leaf.

Peter trades in the hustle and bustle for NYC for that of Boston. It is less shiny, less new. He likes it though; likes the cobblestone, the spirit, the history and the rhythmic rattle of the T under the Kendell stop. The late summer breeze is crisp as Peter shrugs his hoodie on, bagel dangling from his mouth as he chews and launches himself up the steps towards the quad.

His sense are in a haywire; it is the new environment. His sunglasses are maybe a little darker than they should be.

A week ago, his phone had been buzzing with kissy emoji from Aunt May, a good luck text from Tony and of course Ned -- his friend had settled in only a few T stops away at Harvard. The first day of classes had come and gone, bringing it with it an overwhelming sense of belonging. For once, Peter didn’t feel like an outlier.

The only text Peter is paying attention to this morning is yours, though.

pls help me study for my bio quiz later, peter, i am begging u

It makes him laugh. Peter grins, dimples digging in a little bit as he settles into a quick pace. Strawberry converse beat against the jagged cobblestone.

I mean, he wasn’t going to lie to himself -- you were, like, gorgeous. And funny. And you thought it was cool that he’d binged the entirety of Jason Todd and the Outlaws in one night. The fact that you’d excitedly added him on Facebook last Friday after class was enough; he’d messaged you, asking if avoiding the chicken at McCormick was a smart move.

You were a sophomore. You knew the ropes. Peter is totally using it as an excuse.

it’s literally the second week??? who is giving quizzes already??? who’s THAT evil???

You’re laughing, crossing the quad on the opposite side of campus when you get his texts.

It was only happenstance you two started to become friends. His first class, an 8:30am entry-level history course run by Professor Frankfurt (which was really just one big Captain America fanboy session) happened to be the class you’d decided to TA for -- and in turn, the class you’d first met Peter in. Forced to sit front row after arriving late -- he’d had trouble finding the Tang Auditorium -- he ended up being the one to sit next to you.

He was wearing a Saint Motel t-shirt. You’d stopped him after class, nervously chirping your admiration of that particular album. He’d stuttered in surprise. You were a little mortified, mostly since you had realize how pretty he was. He had big brown eyes and dimples. Dimples.

From that point forward, it was like you couldn’t escape him. He joined the Broadcasting club -- and you’d laughed out loud when he walked through the door wearing a different Saint Motel t-shirt. Comic Roundtable wasn’t safe either, as Peter Parker had suddenly become the fresh face among the small club of eight. It truly culminated when you realized Peter had taken up residency on Danny’s floor -- the R.A. was a fellow Anthropology major, and one of your closest friends.

So, yeah, texting him and asking for help on a Gen Ed Bio course quiz was kind of pushing it. You wanted to hate Peter, honestly -- as a freshman he’d already met a handful of prerequisites through his famed Stark Internship, working his way through a good half of the first year Computer Science and Molecular Biology course load. The air at MIT was competitive, but for some reason Peter didn’t feed into it. You felt okay admitting a fault.

It wasn’t like you were going to go to Academic Computing. They’d definitely roast you for not understanding cell structure and osmosis and all that other shit. You were an Anthropology and American History double major for god’s sake. You didn’t need that stuff in your brain. You needed room for other things.

So, you text Peter back.

it’s prof steck. don’t play urself. stay away from her. but is that a yes??? bc if it is i’ll swipe for u at baker!!!

Peter’s slipping through the auditorium doors when he texts you back.

Your phone buzzes on your desk, and you laugh a little when you read the message.

only if u buy me mozzerella stix!!!!

He shoulders you as he sits down. The touch is enough to light up Peter’s nervous system; he ignores the happy tingle that creeps up his back.

The stack of graded papers is jostled a bit by the movement -- Frankfurt had done an assessment on Wednesday, intending to get a gage for what he was working with in the class. So much for syllabus week. You, of course, had been tasked with grading. Not that you minded, though, it had distracted you from asking Peter to come out with you on Saturday night.

“You know,” you chirp, “Baker has make your own stir fry tonight...”

“No way!” Peter’s voice clips a bit, high and excited, “Then forget the fried cheese sticks, buy me stir fry.”

“Only if you don’t make fun of me,” you hum, rolling your eyes a little, “This quiz on is the simple stuff and I don’t know why, I just don’t get it.”

“Well,” Peter chides, settling back in his seat. His fingers dance across the trackpad of his laptop, waking it up, “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

You deadpan.

Peter grins. It’s toothy.

“Is that what the Stark Internship taught you?”

His laugh is boyish. Those dimples are back. Your chest caves a bit, face hot with a gooey expression. What the hell is wrong with you? Going gaga over a freshman?

“Naw, memes taught me that one.”

“Oh,” you wave your hands as Professor Frankfurt throws himself into the auditorium in a huff, “Even better.”

You’re both silenced into a hush as the rest of the first year class follows suit. Professor Frankfurt calls roll. Your name is called after Peter’s. You hand out the exams, and then sit beside Peter for the rest of the class, basking in the warm glow of his semi-permanent smile.

“You know it’s not a date, right?”

Your roommate has her fists halfway into a family sized bag of doritos. Netflix glows from the top bunk. You’re fixing your hair in the mirror hanging on the door.

“I know, but,” you sigh, “He’s cute.”

“He’s a freshman,” she waves as The Office drones on, “He’s fresh meat -- dead in the water. That’s social suicide, you know. At least wait until after Rush Week.”

“Peter doesn’t seem like the fraternity type.”

“Yikes.”

“That’s not a bad thing!” you huff, tugging your hair up and away, “Seriously, there’s a reason why you keep getting your heart broken by dumb boys.”

“Is it because I have an affinity for beefy rich assholes named Brad?”

“That’ll do it, honestly.”

“Fair enough,” she tosses a grin your way, “Good luck on your dinner date with Peter.”

“It’s not a date!”

It’s not a date.

Totally not?

Why is he so nervous?

Oh god, his hands are sweating.

“I’ll have the sweet and tangy sauce, please.”

The box of stir fry is handed to him -- you’re already digging in with a goofy grin on your face. You much on the lo mein noodles happily. You’re covering your own nervousness well. Thank god for deodorant because Peter has you sweating -- literally. It had climbed into the high 70s by late afternoon, leaving Parker in a t-shirt that seemed too tight to be legal and a pair of shorts. He was tan. And he had freckles. Everywhere.

Your hair is swept into hazy curls by the late summer heat. Peter watches the curls along the back of your neck as you both work your way through the check out in the dining hall.

You both make your way to the Hayden Library, strides slow. The sky looks gold, and the clouds glow in the deep blue of the September evening. Traffic drums on, but you both are locked into conversation. Nothing is breaking it -- not even the wave of friends across the street.

“So, New York, huh?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, taking a bite from his takeout container, “My Aunt told me that if I ever went to a Red Sox game, she’d murder me in cold blood.”

“Yikes,” you chatter, “You’re missing out -- I mean, no Big Papi anymore, but Hanley Ramirez is a big deal. Be a shame if you never saw him play in Boston.”

“Are you trying to convince me to go to a Red Sox game?” Peter’s voice hitches, “Because that’s not happening.”

“C’mon, the Yankees suck,” your smile is challenging and Peter laugh as you take a few steps ahead, turning around to watch him as you skip backwards, “Turn to the dark side, Peter! It’s more fun! We have a green monster.”

“I think I’d rather take the Hulk, honestly.”

“Me too,” you wink, “Bruce Banner is an absolute babe.”

Peter laughs at that -- loud and rowdy in the late summer heat. It’s intoxicating.

Your takeaway boxes have been abandoned, licked clean, in favor of a biology textbook and notepads. Though, it wasn’t a welcome abandonment. You wanted to pull your hair out. It showed.

Your lips are pulled into a pout. Peter watches your brows screw together. The study room is filled with the chatter of a Bio101 Youtube video he’d pulled up, hoping to explain osmosis and semipermeable membranes and the importance of saline.

“See?” Peter’s pen taps the screen, “From high to low!”

“Always?”

“Always.”

“Sounds fake,” you hum, mushing your cheeks together as you lean on the wooden table, “But okay.”

“It’s not fake! It’s science.”

“So,” you lean back, waving your fingers, “... magic?”

“Basically,” Peter shrugs, “My formal title after grad school will be Wizard.”

“I want to be a wizard.”

“Then --”

“And make this whole quiz disappear.”

Peter drops his head into his hands, laughing softly as he rubs his brows together. You were getting it, albeit slowly. He couldn’t say he really minded losing his Monday night to you -- in fact, he found himself enjoying this a little bit too much. Your knee brushes his under the table as you shift, eyes drawn back to the video.

His skin tingles. Hot and prickly.

“How about one more hour of studying?”

“Thank god,” you whisper, “I can do that.”

“Power hour?”

“Power hour.”

He walks you back to your dorm.

Even though it’s in the opposite direction of his.

“I hope I helped,” he sighs, “Even if it’s a little bit?”

“You helped a lot -- seriously, I think I’m a wizard now.”

You blossom with pride as he giggles, eyes screwing shut as his head falls backwards. His converse scuff against the pavement as he shoves his fingers into his pockets. Peter glows under pinks and yellows of the streetlights. It’s cute. You wind your own fingers together, toeing the ground.

There’s a weighted pause between you both. Brown eyes burrow into your own.

It’s broken by the door to your dorm swinging open and a group of guys bustling by. It prompts you both to laugh again.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday, then?”

“Yeah! And, uh, I’ll let you know how I do on my quiz!”

“Make me proud!”

He waves, you wave, and you swear it’s the warmest you’ve ever felt.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman imagine

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