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garthcallaghans:

His eyebrows lowered and pulled together, first because she hadn’t yet gone away and then because of her words. It didn’t matter what or who such a condescending sound had come from if it was directed towards him; he wouldn’t take nicely to it. So she was french, that was now obvious to him but he did not understand the language. Garth made sure to pull out of her grasp before they had reached the door, taking a step away from the woman. “No. Just give me that cloth and I’ll go. Let your pretty little self forget you ever met me.”

Vivienne paused as the man seemed to dig his heels in. Eventually stopping and tugging himself from her grasp. Instantly, the blonde stopped in her tracks and turned to face the dark haired man and as he spoke, she struggled to understand what he had just said. While she hadn’t quite understood the words at first, however, she did understand the tone. He sounded irked, affronted. Her brows knitted together as she tried to understand why, before she seemed to realize at least a fraction of it. Perhaps she’d been rude. It hadn’t been her intention. As he told her to give him the cloth and stated under no uncertain terms that he’d just leave, her head was shaking before he’d even finished. 

“No. I ah..” Vivienne paused for a moment,before offering him another smile. This one was almost apologetic. “I did not mean to offend you, Monsieur.“ Vivienne hesitated, before holding her palms out as if to persuade the man. “Please.You should at least stay until it stops bleeding, come inside and warm up? I could make you some tea?”

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minho-sco:

The only warning he had was his son’s eyes widening, and a flash of a long forgotten look — joy. Then a body collided with his back, one on the smaller side. It took all his restraint to not fling the person off and have a knife at their throat, and he could only hope it wasn’t one of the rotting corpses that had somehow slipped through the fences. Yet the way their arms wrapped around his chest… As much as it pained him, he broke the embrace to turn around to face who had nearly tackled him.

It was Vivi. He could only stare, eyes darting around to drink in her face. She had been dead, he was certain of it, he had seen that blonde hair through the horde of undead. He had heard screams of pain, she was dead. But here she was alive, staring up at him with such hope. His hand roved up to brush back a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear, almost to reassure himself he wasn’t in the embrace of a ghost. 

His mother had sworn his father had come to her in the night, as she best remembered him — the strong as an ox man with weathered hands that filled his memories of childhood. She said he stood at the foot of her bed and asked her to join him, and Minho was prepared for this to be a vision. For this perfect vision to ask him to join her in death, but she felt too real. She was a solid presence in his arms, he could feel her breathing. Ghosts didn’t breathe, didn’t fill his arms with warmth. She always ran hotter than him. Finally his voice came back to him.

“My heart, my heart, where have you been?” He wasn’t sure whether to keep looking at her or kiss her, so he settled for a quick press of his lips to her forehead. “I thought you had died. I tried to find you.” He reluctantly parted a bit when he felt Liam wiggle between their legs, the boy laughing happily and chanting that Vivi was back. Everything felt right again, like some missing piece of him situated inside his ribcage had come back to roost, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Should we go inside? We have a lot of catching up to do. I missed you so much.” 

The moment Vivienne's arms had flung themselves around Minho, she didn't let go. She couldn't even if she'd wanted to. It had been too long.. it had been so long, and so incredibly lonely.. that she'd begun to believe he was truly gone. Truly dead, she'd begun to stop searching for him in the silhouette of every newcomer. Stop perking up when she heard the high pitched call of any young boy. And it had felt like a betrayal but she couldn't keep pricking pins into herself with each disappointment. And yet here he was, large and warm and the moment he realized who it was that had ahold of him.. he seemed to soften in her arms and she felt the weight of his own arms around her. The betrayal swept over her again, that she'd stopped holding out hope, but it was instantly overwhelmed by warmth and light and a joy she couldn't express in any way but to embrace him tighter. Tears prickling her eyes and spiking blonde lashes, dampening his shirt as she murmured excitedly in french.

Large, strong hands grasped at the soft clean cotton of her cardigan as he seemed to register who she was. As he seemed to be hit with the joy she was feeling as well, and when she felt the press of his lips to her temple, his voice, her excited murmurs broke into soft.. happy sobs. Slender, soft fingers gripping his shoulders as she embraced him tighter. His voice was nearly heaven-sent, something she never thought she'd hear again, and the first thing that she could hear was his gentle endearment for her. It was as if the rift the last several months had never happened.

She could feel something struggling between them to separate them, and when Minho laughed and whispered that they should go inside, Vivienne didn't answer him immediately. The only thing in the world that could have gotten her to release her embrace was now gripping happily at her skirt and tugging on it, her name breaking out in eager exclamations.

Releasing Minho and sinking to her knees on the ground, not caring that they were now the focus of everyone within ear shot, the blonde's arms wound around Liam and she pulled him into a tight hug. So tight that the boy was nearly entirely hidden in a long curtain of golden tresses as she greeted him next. Her words spoken in fast, eager french. "Mon petit précieux! Vous avez été tellement manqué!" She cried out, holding Liam until he tried to wriggle from the tight embrace. Reluctantly releasing him, Vivienne framed Liam's face, scattering kisses all over it, before turning her beaming smile up to Minho. This time speaking english.

"Yes.. inside." She stated, a delayed reaction to his question as she pushed to stand, grasping Minho's sleeve and tugging him toward the building. "I was so afraid you were both gone forever! I looked for you everywhere I knew.. I never thought I would see you again."

( » » all that i could see. )

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garthcallaghans:

His eyes narrowed in on the woman, even more so as she decided to touch him. Garth’s first instinct was to recoil, and he did ever so slightly move backward with a flinch. She was a complete stranger, with absolutely no reason to feel concern or pity for him. More still, he didn’t want it. “From my nose? I don’t think so. I’ll be fine.” He stated simply, their accents contrasting dramatically.

The blonde watched him for a moment, almost as if she had anticipated his recoil when the soft, now bloodied fabric had touched her nose. It had been his words that brought her attention, and once she understood them, she gave a little sound that seemed suspiciously like a scoff. Though the fact that it came from something that looked nearly angelic in nature seemed to take the bite from it. “..Les hommes et leur fierté ridicule.” She murmured in her own language. It seemed, however, that she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Her fingers twining in the mans sleeve and directing him with incredibly subtlety toward the door of the camp’s doctor. “So prove me wrong then.” She stated with a smile. Her next words meant to distract. “Were you here to trade?”

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garthcallaghans:

The Irishman stared at the other watching him from a near distance as he tried to stop the blood pouring from his nose. He wasn’t too sure why they were looking at him the way they were. They were either just wary or staring at him like he had two damn heads. “What, you never seen a man with a busted nose before? If you’re concerned, I’m flattered – but I’ll live.”

Blond brows knit in concern as she watched the dark haired man. His hair was mussed and wild, his nose seemed.. almost dislocated and what was most concerning, deep stains of blood marred his mouth and facial hair. At his tone, words snappy and an accent she couldn't quite recognize, Vivi paused, but did not recoil or apologize. Instead, the woman took a step forward with a shake of her head, tugging her overlarge sleeve up and lifting it to press to the mans nose as pale green eyes shifted up to him.

When she spoke, her french accent was heavy. "You should see our doctor.. you could lose too much blood."

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minho-sco:

The noise had woken him up in the night, prompting a small scream from Liam. After he had calmed down his son and gotten him to fall back to sleep in the nest of sleeping bags, Minho had watched the unending procession of the dead. They shambled south, and he sat up all night with an axe, waiting for the fences to go down or a walker to pay attention to the warehouse. Morning broke, and the streets were unnaturally empty. It had taken some prompting but he finally got Liam convinced to make their first rounds of these new camps.

The first one they approached was a wash, no one had heard of a French woman named Vivienne, but they let them rest there for a short while so Liam could regain his energy for the next walk. Minho hated having to tire his son out like this, but they needed to check the camps. The walk to the next one was long, and by the time they got there, he was carrying Liam on his back. They were lucky that the majority of walkers had left, as it would be dangerous for him to encounter a walker with his son on his back.

The elementary school was just up ahead, and a sharp pang of regret traveled through him. Liam would never go to a school like this, he wouldn’t ever have a normal childhood. He tapped Liam’s leg, as he was dozing off. “C’mon little monkey, time to get off, we’re here.” 

It took a little while to talk down the guard outside of the school enough to let them in but eventually, they were let through the fences. Liam spoke up once they were through the chainlink, asking about the possibility of there being toys here and playing on the playground. Minho was distracted in trying to answer his son’s questions, which was why he didn’t at first hear his name being called.

( @lexamoureux. )

Unlike what was most likely going on for everyone else in Cheyenne, after Vivienne's little spat with Landon about what exactly could be done.. her time after the loud sound had been.. docile at most. Perhaps it was the language barrier, but the blonde was absolutely certain that he was one of the most rude.. unpleasant men she'd ever come across. Vivienne, however, knew there was a reason most were unpleasant. Particularly in a world like this, despite the way the man had frustrated her, she had no ill feelings toward him. Vivienne was, in fact, rarely the type to hold a grudge. Life was too short for such things.. especially nowadays.

She'd been leaning almost dolefully out of the first floor window of the club. She'd been.. strongly advised to stay inside in the event of the overwhelming amount of raiders that had crawled out of the woodwork when the undead had left. Long white-gold hair flashing and curling in damp tendrils past her interwoven fingers as curious green eyes flickered back and forth, drinking in the scenery before her. Those working outside to increase defenses, but that wasn't what caught her attention. What caught Vivienne's attention was the two walking figures just in the distance. A man, a tall man with a child clinging to his back, was talking to the guard. She couldn't quite see anything but that familiar way he held himself. A flash of black hair. Excitement and hope spiked through her like a pang, like a rush of adrenaline, like a sharp stab of a needle.

Him. It had to be him, and at the same time, it couldn't possibly be. "Minho!!" She called out, startling several workers closer to the window, as he let the boy down, as he didn't answer, she called out again to no avail. This time he was closer. This time there was no doubt.

Even as she pushed the window open even higher, bare, pale legs scrambling out of it as she jumped barefoot onto the grass, she called out again, now taking off at breakneck speed toward him. "Minho! Minh-"

She couldn't even finish that last exclamation as her little body collided with her husband's, the man she thought was dead for so long. A flash of pink sundress and hair, all smiles and entwining arms as she embraced him.

( » » all that i could see. )

[lexamoureux-blog]

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call me boring and vanilla but i lov… romantic relationships built on friendships

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Send me symbol for my muse’s opinion:

☠ : Opinion on death ➶ : Opinion on killing ☮: Opinion on peace ☯: Do they believe in karma? ✤ : Do they believe in luck? ✟ : Religious beliefs ♂ : Sexuality ☿: Opinion on gender ❤: Opinion on love ❥ :Opinion on love from the first sight ♞: Favorite animal(s) ☕: Favorite food(s) ♛ : Opinion on outer beauty ☀ : Favorite season(s) ☽ : Favorite time of day ☂ : Favorite weather ◎ : Opinion on lying

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boho

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@topherhaas

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landon-hightower:

@lexamoureux.

Funny to think that even in this time, one could get their hands on a damn drug dealer. Of course, they had to actually grow their own shit and Landon certainly didn’t have the patience for any of that. Drug dealing had barely been his passion after all in the previous world – it had only earned him enough money to get by. All the Hightower boys had been in the business, one way or another. That he had a supplier at all was probably the only thing in this world the man was thankful for, apart from his sister. The man had already stuffed the latest stash into his pack when he quite literally, ran into a familiar face. “Hey! It’s laundry lady, right?” He let out a deep laugh. Sure, it wasn’t the most charming nickname, but he didn’t actually know the blonde’s name.

Once more, Vivienne had been waiting for Topher as she stood idle in the entrance of his home-camp. The small dish Topher had given her of what had once been home-made cookies he’d baked her was now empty of cookies and full of a small treat she’d intended to give him. A little batch of chocolate truffles now neatly en-captured in saran wrap in the center of the tray waiting for him. She was distracted, however, by the loud and rather obnoxious tone of a man shouting a greeting toward her.

It took Vivi several seconds to realize she was being addressed, with the man’s words, but the moment she caught sight of him she recalled him vividly. The drunk one... the one who had no intention of saying sober. By the looks of his pinned pupils and gait, he was still working on that it seemed. She paused for a moment, warily, before beaming a warm smile at him and turning. “Oui.” She stated with a nod, before holding out the dish toward him. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name... but would you like a-”

Before she could finish her sentence, the sound of a loud B O O M rippled through the air and shook the ground they stood on, Vivi cried out in alarm, the dish falling and shattering on the tile, glass and chocolate scattering everywhere as wide, pale green eyes snapped toward the wall in the direction of the sound.

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I never meant to fall for you but I, , , Was buried underneath and All that I could see was white My salvation

@minho-sco

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sentence starters: protective edition.

“Don’t let them talk to you that way.”

“I get so angry whenever I hear them talking about you… you don’t deserve it.”

“You could have been killed!”

“What were you thinking?!?”

“Are you alright?! Do you need anything?”

“I can’t leave you here alone.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“If they lay a finger on you, I swear I’ll kill them.”

“I’ll protect you with my life.”

“I’ll never leave your side. Not until we can ensure your safety.”

“Who did this to you?!”

“No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

“I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

“Come on, tell me what happened.”