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hopelikethemoon · 4 years ago

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Bleed (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Bleed Rating: PG-13 Length: 1400 Warnings: Violence (mentions of gun violence, bullet wounds, blood, and medical procedures) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in late November 1991. I’m going to do a follow up chapter in a few days, I do believe. Summary: Reader is shot.

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts@synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen@arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque@theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou@yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie @jaime1110

From where you were laying, you could see a body laying on the opposite side of the Jeep. There was shattered glass on the ground from the busted out car window.

And there was blood — your blood. Your arm wasn’t even the worst of it. A few spots were bleeding from slamming your arm into the broken glass on the way down…

But the main concern was the wet sensation pooling under your leg.

The world was swimming around you. The pain had shifted into a numb throb, a tingling sensation radiating up your thigh, into your hip, before fanning out.

Your cheeks felt simultaneously hot and cold — and there was sweat clinging to your brows.

Everything felt far away.

You closed your eyes slowly, your eyelids feeling weighed down. Something touched you and you jerked, eyes going wide as you focused on Javier who was kneeling beside you.

“Baby, baby… you’ve got to stay with me okay.” Javier urged as you watched his hands go to his belt.

“I’m honored,” You said wryly. “But I’ve been shot.”

A faint smirk played over his lips, “Yet your wit hasn’t been affected.” He quipped as he slid his belt from the loops. “I need to cut these off.” He told you, “Shit, that’s a lot of blood.”

You shook your head, “You should see the other guy.” You turned your head, looked across the broken glass to the body of the man you’d shot.

He had been aiming at Javier. You hadn’t even thought twice about pulling the trigger. You hadn’t even seen the second gunman.

A soft cry tore from your lips as Javier used his pocket knife to cut your jeans off. The motion caused more blood to gush from your wound and you felt a fresh wave of dizzying nausea take over. Fuck.

This wasn’t good.

“Keep talking,” Javier told you as he rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead, causing blood to smear there. Yours. That was your blood. “Baby, keep talking.”

“Buy me a drink first,” You hissed out as Javier tossed your ruined jeans aside.

“That an offer?”

“Maybe.” You could be dying. There was a lot of blood and you felt… off. Was this what dying felt like?

You’d seen death before.

Death was a slow creeping shadow.

One second, a person could be laughing at your kitchen table… and the next minute they could be dead behind the eyes.

“Hey, hey.” Javier patted your cheek. “Eyes open.”

“Trying.” You mumbled, tilting your head to watch as he wrapped his belt around your thigh and pulled it taut to stop the blood flow. It hurt like a son of a bitch, your skin pinched under the leather.

But the gaping bullet hole hurt worse.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” Javier seethed as he reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, you’ve got to keep talking.”

“Did they hit you?”

“Baby, I’m fine. I’ll be better if we can get this bleeding stopped.” Javier squeezed your hand again, before shifting to examine the wound. “I think we’ve got it slowed. Goddammit where’s the ambulance?” He looked around frantically.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You whispered, your eyes falling closed as you let yourself sink into the strange tingling sensation that seemed to envelop you. “I don’t want to die…”

“No one’s dying.” Javier leaned over you, patting your cheek. “Come on. Open your eyes. Let me see your eyes, baby.”

“I can’t…”

“Fuck.” Javier rubbed his hand over your cheek, “Come on. I can’t fucking lose you. You can’t do this to me. Come on.”

You heard a car door slam shut.

“Holy shit—“ Steve swore. “The ambulance was behind me. Fuck. That looks bad. Is she—“

“Still… kicking.” You mumbled, though you weren’t sure how loud your voice was because Steve didn’t even acknowledge you. Javier, on the other hand, squeezed your hand hard enough to hurt.

“She’s lost a lot of blood and I can’t…” Javier sounded like he was crying.

You tried to open your eyes, but even that little gesture felt like it was taking too much of your energy.

“Javier—“ You whispered, weakly squeezing his hand. “It��s okay.”

“Stay with me, okay? You’ve got to stay with me.”

“Peña, you’ve got to let go.” Steve urged, and you felt Javier’s hand jerked out of your grip.

There were other voices — new ones. You were too tired to translate the Spanish they spoke, your brain catching one or two words as they shifted you from the ground to a stretcher.

When had the ambulance shown up?

“Javier?” You questioned as someone peeled your eye open and shined a light into it. It wasn’t Javier.

Someone else had your arm and you flinched as you felt a needle jab into your arm. After that, everything got a lot more confusing. Your thoughts swirled in your head, just out of reach of making coherent sense. You dipped in and out of consciousness, easily drawn into the dark nothingness of whatever shit they had pumping through your IV.

You hated this shit.

Yet, in this situation you didn’t have much of a choice.

——

Javier was sitting by your bedside when you woke up. He was sound asleep, resting on his folded arms that he had propped up on your bed about halfway down. His face was turned towards yours — like he had fallen asleep waiting for you to wake up.

It probably meant something that in what might have been your final moments, he was all you could think of.

You knew he’d been the one to find his mother and you didn’t want to add to the tragedy in his life. Hell, you knew how he acted when things went wrong for his informants — that guilt he carried with him.

You had been afraid that you’d be someone else he felt responsible for. Someone else he’d lost. And maybe you were putting more value on yourself, than you actually held in his life. But then again, he was sitting by your bedside and no one else was.

“Javi,” You whispered as you reached out and touched his cheek, before you stroked your fingers over the hair that fell against his forehead.

“Morning.” He grumbled, stretching just arms out in front of him before he froze. His eyes snapped open and he jerked upright. “You’re awake.”

You laughed quietly, “Unless heaven is a hospital, yeah.”

“You scared the fuck out of me.” Javier reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Do I still have a leg?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand back. “They, uh… they said it was close to an artery. A little to the left and you’d be—“

“Yeah.” You lifted your hand and rubbed at your face. “And to think that handsome face of yours would’ve been the last thing I saw.”

“I suppose that’s why you were spared, baby.” Javier snorted, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “They should be releasing you in a day or two. Steve’s settled all the bullshit at the office.”

You smiled at him, “Tell him ‘thank you’ for me.” You stretched a little, rolling your shoulders back against the mattress. “I don’t think I can handle getting desked, Javi. You’ve gotta get me back in the field.”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, “I’ll see what I can do for you.” He winked. “But first, we’ve got to get you out of here.” He gestured around the hospital room.

“Are you going to get me out of here?”

“Wish I could.” He shrugged. “Office won’t be the same while you’re laid up.”

“I expect you to call me at least three times a day to let me know what’s going on.”

He cracked a grin, “I’ll see what can be arranged.” Javier dragged his hands over his face. “You’re gonna get to catch up on all the good novellas.”

You rolled your eyes. “Which is why you’ll have to call for updates.”

Javier nodded, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“There goes our New Years plans.” You remarked as you rubbed at your eyes. “Shit, I don’t like whatever they’ve got me on. I feel like I’ve got cotton in my eyes.”

“You need rest.”

“I don’t need this shit to sleep.” You groused, “Are you staying?”

“As long as they’ll let me.”

You ran your finger along the side of his hand. “I don’t want you to go, Javi.” You let your eyes flicker closed, “I never do.”

Javier stood up, leaning over the bed to press a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep.” He told you softly. “I’m just glad you’re still here.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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here-be-sirens-moved · 7 years ago

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Adagio @ Cam’s Aria

“Come @ me bro”

#💎#📜#;; crack #omg #ADAGIO: who u call a punkass bitch?!#gif war #;; in song [IC]💎#silly

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achtung-attitude · 5 years ago

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CHAPTER 32: Hotel California - Part 4

Moya, in horror, watches as Marsellus rises from apparent death, muttering something under his breath. She takes a step back, nearly stepping right into one of the open mouths, which snaps at her, flicking a red tongue. She scowls, and stamps her foot down onto the mouth, shattering its teeth. “Fuck this,” she decides, and turns for the door.

But the door is changed as well, savage teeth sprouting out of the edges and snapping aggressively. There is no longer any escape, it seems. Moya looks all around, and shudders at the sickly sound of the elevators DING open. But rather than people emerging through the door, instead a cascade of blood, several hundred gallons, spills into the lobby, advancing on her with frightening speed.

Before it hits, a clawed hand appears in her periphery. SATURN BARZ, struggling through the distortion affecting its body, swipes upward, and the blood explodes into red mist. “The stairwell! Go, quick!!” Moya heeds him, dashing for the emergency stairwell. WITCH MOUNTAIN stoops, pulling Jerome along with it. Moya slams the door behind her and leaves the lobby of horrors behind.

“What the FUCK was that?!” Moya exclaims after WITCH MOUNTAIN destroys the lock on the emergency exit, locking it shut.

“Keep moving,” Kilo answers, gradually regaining functionality in his limbs, but still carried by Moya’s Stand. “The whole building’s an enemy, and the bellboy won’t stop coming for us.”

She scowls, but follows his advice. She readjusts Shizuka in her arms, and WITCH MOUNTAIN lifts Jerome up by his waistband, holding both him and Kilo like heavy luggage. “What do you mean, the building is an enemy?” She asks, beginning to run up the stairs.

“I don’t get it myself, but somehow, the hotel itself has a Stand ability. It gets you high on all this good shit, makes you comfy, then it gets inside your head and sucks the soul right out of you. Or, it makes you a slave. Even if we kill the bellboy, we’ll still be trapped here. And then we’ll become just like him. We need to demolish the entire building.”

“Brainwashes you with comfort, huh? Explains why these two succumbed to it,” she gestures to Shizuka and Jerome.

“... Yeah. That habit of taking things at face value, it’ll be the death of her one day.” he agrees wearily.

With her shoulder, she opens the stairwell door to the second floor and walks in. “Taking a building down is a tall order, even between the two of our Stands. And since it looks like the bellboy can neutralize Stands with his ability, we’re gonna have to get creative. Can you walk yet?”

“Yeah, put me down,” he says, and WITCH MOUNTAIN does, allowing him to stand shakily on his own two feet. They stand facing each other, each breathless.

“It makes sense that you’d be immune, too,” Moya declares.

“What?”

“You’re so mistrustful. I bet you’ve never had a good thing to say about anything in your life.”

“... Is that your idea of a compliment, officer?”

“No it’s not, punkass.”

They smirk at each other, then turn at the sound of creaking floorboards. Like an image out of a dream, Paul Mann emerges from around the corridor. “Y-you--!!” he sputters upon seeing Kilo.

“... That’s Paul Mann. I know him, he’s some big shot real estate mogul,” Moya says.

“He’s the Congregation’s secret political backer. Dust hid him here after Phantasma died,” Kilo explains.

“... He’s fucking what?”

Mann begins to jog in the opposite direction. Moya drops Shizuka and Jerome to the floor. After a moment of shellshock, she sprints after him and dive-tackles him to the floor. “Is that true?!” she screeches, holding him in an arm bar “Are you really working with Brother Dust?!!”

“Who are you people?!!”

“Is it fucking true?!!”

“Gaagh, ok, yes! He approached me with an offer, he’d help me get out of a little legal trouble, even assist in my political campaign! In return, I’d look the other way on his more sketchy affairs! It was necessary, I-- I have a vision for this country! Sometimes men have to make hard choices for the good of th- AAOWW!” He wails as his shoulders cracks, nearly falling out of place.

“Do we have time for this? Right now?” Kilo says, observing. Moya reluctantly holds off from breaking Mann’s arm, and releases him.

“You stay right where you are, got it?!” she shouts. Mann responds by raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m working on it… I need to get outside. I can’t do anything while I’m inside the building. The hotel’s got control over everything inside it.”

“Then we gotta get our asses up to the roof.”

“Not us,” Kilo says, shaking his head, “There’s at least a dozen people in this building. You need to get them outta here. I have an idea, but it won’t leave any survivors. I won’t have innocent people dying because of me… What?”

“Ah, nothing,” she says, shaking herself out of staring at him. She turns her face away, trying to hide her surprise as she retrieves Shizuka and Jerome from off the floor., “Are you sure we should seperate? What are you going to do while I’m evacuating?”

“I’m gonna be killing a god,” he says, then turns without another word, leaving Moya aghast. She hesitates momentarily, then moves.

His insistence on preserving innocent life took her by surprise. Never had she imagined that the furious man she met on the beach could say something so righteous. “I’ll trust you, Kilo Staples,” she thinks, preparing her search for afflicted guests, “because you chose to trust me.”

***

Halfway up the stairs to the seventh floor, Kilo watches the 7 at the top of the stairs split in two. The wall cracks and bulges, opening to reveal a mouth full of dirty teeth and drool. Marsellus emerges out of this opening, covered in saliva. The smell of the hotel’s insides hangs off of him, reaching Kilo even meters away. The bellboy’s face twitches between a smile and a scowl, his movements are jerky and strange. “D-d-d-did you think you had lost me, s-s-sir?” he asks, CALIFORNICATION emerging next to him, crackling electricity.

“Nah, I didn’t,” Kilo responds. CALIFORNICATION moves, dashing down the stairs. SATURN BARZ waves its hands, but this proves to be a feint, as it delivers a sharp kick to the stairs in front of it. Instantly, the surface of the stairs turns to liquid, reaching up to where Marsellus stands.

The bellboy yelps as he loses all traction with the ground. CALIFORNICATION disappears, and its master slides down the stairs like an impromptu water-park. SATURN BARZ strikes the stairs again, and they solidify back into solid concrete. It crackles and traps Marsellus on his back, halfway down.

“Damn you!! E-even if you immobilize me, my Stand is faster than yours! It has a wider range than yours! You cannot defeat me!”

Kilo answers him with a kick to the face, before he climbs onto the guard rail and leaps straight up off of it, clambering up to reach the fire escape door to the roof.

Marsellus struggles and curses out, as CALIFORNICATION reactivates within him, generating electricity from the inside out. Water drips from the ends of his concrete prison, and he struggles, inching forward until the stone finally cracks enough that he can break free.

Kilo is about to touch the metal door handle. In the instant before he can, CALIFORNICATION slams its fist into the wall, directing arcs of static electricity to travel through the metal and electronics, up the stairs and infusing into the doorknob. Once his fingers close around it, the power moves up his arm and shoots him backwards into the guard rail.

“AAH!” he shouts, as much in frustration as pain. “SATURN BARZ!!” He summons his Stand, and it evaporates the door with an “URAAH!!” Clutching his quickly numbing arm, he runs through the doorway, stepping out onto the roof. He stumbles and falls, and sits up on his knees. The night sky is above him. He breathes the outside air.

“Enough,” comes the voice from the stairwell, “t-t-there is no longer anywhere to run! Your stay at the Hotel California will never end!” Marsellus steps into the door frame and leans against it. He is damaged, his skin blistered and cut, his left eye bloodshot. Yet he keeps going, driven by mad devotion for the sinister building that possesses him.

Kilo turns, digging his fingernails into his right arm, trying to awaken feeling in it. “You know what?” he declares, “I been thinking about what you said earlier.” SATURN BARZ emerges, sans a right arm. Nevertheless, it stands tall, beginning to stamp its foot rhythmically. It raises its one arm into the night air, reddish-brown vapor building in its palm. Marsellus summons CALIFORNICATION, but cautiously remains where he is.

“You said giving into the hotel frees you from struggle. What a load of shit. I heard you squealing for Dust to come save you earlier. You know what?” Kilo continues, “I think all this is, is that you was too much of a pussy to fight for the life you wanted.” SATURN BARZ swipes downward, and the vapor expands, rising into the air. With each swipe of its claw, the vapor builds into a great cloud, which rises into the air.

“A smokescreen?” Marsellus says, shaking out of his daze, “Did you not hear me? There is nowhere to r-r-run!! It doesn’t matter what you do to me or this Hotel, you’re DOOMED!!!”

“I’m not aiming to bring you down, ya little bitch. You ain’t worth it…” He says with a smirk, as the cloud of vapor ascends into the air. “You ain’t nothing but a puppet… the idea is… to cut off the hand holding the strings…!”

Marsellus bares his teeth and seethes, ready to unleash a torrent of electricity at Kilo. But, just then, he feels small drops of water hit the back of his outstretched hand. “ What the?…” he murmurs. He looks up, and the droplets fall from the cloud created by SATURN BARZ, hanging overhead.

“Rain…? Is this it?” he asks snidely, as further raindrops begin to fall on the roof around them, “Make it rain a tad, and then… what? Make the pipes rust?”

“You’re a native, right, aren’t you?” Kilo retorts, “Then you outta know, one of the worst parts of living here is all the fucking smog. Some days you can barely breathe…! And every so often, all that exhaust builds up, gets high enough, and it comes back down…” He winces as a raindrop lands on his cheek, and quickly wipes it off. He watches with satisfaction as Marsellus recoils, then grimaces in pain.

In horror, Marsellus stares at a hole that has formed in his hand, the flesh burned and blistered. It has been burned straight through, an injury replicated in his Stand’s hand. In the very spot where the raindrop landed.

“When all those fumes built up over weeks of traffic get high enough, sometimes they come back down! As acid rain!” SATURN BARZ manifests and shields its user from the raindrops, as all around him, they burn holes straight through the roof of the Hotel California

A bass moaning sound can be heard. The ground beneath them contorts, pelted on all sides by burning rain. The acidic cloud grows ever larger, and the clean concrete and brick architecture morphs into slick, organic flesh.

“N-no! NOO!!” Marsellus cries, apparently ignorant to his own flesh being gradually destroyed by the rain, his uniform falling in pieces off of him. CALIFORNICATION, too, degrades, its wrought metal body melting into useless scrap.

***

Downstairs, Shizuka bolts upright, leaping out of Moya’s arms and rolling, suddenly wide awake. “What happened?!” she cries, looking all around.

Jerome wakes at the same moment. “Oh, finally!” Moya exclaims, patting him on the back as he grasps his bearings.

“W-What’s going on? Wh… You! The cop!”

“Moya?! What are you doing here?” Shizuka exclaims, noticing her for the first time.

“No time to explain! Let’s get moving!” she shouts, shoving a man in front of her hard on the shoulder.

“I-I’m going, I’m going!” the man protests, revealing himself to be the lawyer from the room across from Kilo’s. He pulls his son along by the hand, desperately trying to keep him calm. A full procession of such people, all guests and prisoners of Hotel California, trail after Moya.

Paul Mann remains reluctantly by her side, his hands held behind his back by WITCH MOUNTAIN, a force that he cannot see. Many of them appear to shake their heads at the same moment, as if waking from a dream.

“Where’s Kilo?” Shizuka asks, following Moya, “What happened with the old man in the hallway?”

“I don’t know anything about that, but Staples is taking care of things. Looks like whatever he did worked…” she replies, then pauses, spreading her hands wide and bringing everyone to a halt.

A bulge forms in the ceiling in front of them, as if a load of water has been spilled and is deforming the plaster. After a moment, the bulge bursts and liquid spills out of it onto the carpet. There is a chemical scent of burning where the fluid interacts with the fabric.

“What in the world?” exclaims Paul Mann, and similar murmurs of confusion go up among the gathering. From all but Shizuka, who stares at the acid with terrible understanding.

“We- We need to get out of here… Now!” she implores Moya, who herself begins to understand upon seeing Shizuka’s face.

“Move! Move, move, move!” she yells, and the guests follow her commands as similar bulges form all over the ceiling, spilling deadly acid all over the floor, eating away at the hotel.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #shizuka joestar #kilo staples #moya pezzente #c-king #witch mountain #hotel california #ch32

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cherubsoda · 5 years ago

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1, 2, 7, 12; Dante! >;0 [Dizzy]

thank you for the ask bb! @dizzycoyote/@cowboybenoit

under the cut bc its gushy bs

1. What’s 3 things you like about your f/o?

His commitment to his family and friends! Even though Vergil’s a dickhead he’s still a ride or die bitch and that just,, says a lot about him. The way he interacts with Nero is *chef kiss*, he’s such a tough love guy and it really shows how much he cares about Nero’s safety.

His demeanor and aura. The second i saw him, i knew in an instant that i would be able to get along with him. We have the same sense of humor and both use it as a self defense mechanismI guess i kinda see myself in him in a way? He’s like,, a best friend kind of boyfriend; we’d be able to reach that tier where we can just make fun of each other and not actual get upset.

I just love that fact that he’s a huge virgin, like thats basically canon at this point i’m sorry he’s bad with women. in dmc5: before the nightmare, it’s canon that Lucia has feelings for Dante and it went right over his head (or he didn’t care?? idk dmc2 was a bad time for him). Also he drinks his respect women juice,, and I love that,,,,,,,,,

2. What’s 3 things your f/o likes about you?

this was hard i literally??? had to type this out and lie to your faces..,, yall making me a liar fr

I’m very nurturing and motherly by default and will constantly check up on him. He probably finds it annoying in the beginning, especially if I knew him during his DmC3 days, he was just a sad, punkass, that didn’t want or need help. As time progressed, he realized that i wasn’t looking down or pitying him but that was me genuinely trying to help him. He’d take it upon himself to actively be a little more open and accepting towards my advances and finds himself enjoying being pampered and babied a bit.

I’m easy-going and goofy but can be serious when I need to be. I don’t think Dante would appreciate me constantly being on his ass, considering the field of work he’s in, his diet, his bloodline, etc? We can share a few drinks and laugh, but when he needs to get something off his chest I can be attentive or crack a joke to make him feel better

He’s a bit of a basketcase, considering all the things i mentioned previously. The one thing i can truly, honestly see him liking in me (the other stuff was just bs lets be real), is that I’m understanding and accepting. It probably takes him a while to admit to me what he is and that takes a lot of trust. It’s basically ride or die from here on out, so it’s a huge step for him and myself. (look my self insert is an angel im kinda like well no shit… but thanks for telling me anyways, also i guess i should tell you that i-)

7. How do you show affection to each other?

Dante’s pretty open about wanting affection, like if he wants attention, he’ll do whatever to make me notice. Sometimes he’ll just sigh, and moan and groan like “MAN i sure wish i had a PILLOW,,,so i can take a NAP”, and me just glancing up like “…ok get over here then-” he just zooms over and rests his head in my lap or chest.

other times he’ll just wrap an arm around my shoulder. since he’s tall enough, he can come up from behind and wrap his arms around me and kiss the top or back of my head like,, dont make me headbutt you, you dork :/ but when he’s in a more serious mood, he enjoys when i hold him and pet his hair, his face in my chest or stomach while we relax.

After the first “i love you’s” it’s much easier for him to say it, and he verbalizes it when he notices when I’m feeling down or even if I look stressed, he’ll put a hand on my head and smile, saying “things will be alright as long as he’s around”

While Dante is more open about his affections, I like to save that stuff when we’re alone. I’m open to small affections like holding his sleeve or leaning my head against his shoulder in public, maybe small pecks here and there.

We tend to bicker and joke around a lot, so sometimes I’ll bump him with my hip or give his butt a little kick when im standing close enoughI am not immune to hugs. I love hugging so much they’re a lot more comforting and i just

When I see Dante,, its hugs on sight, even if its a brief hug; speaking of which,,, when we cuddle i enjoy holding hands bc i just find it intimate. His arm around my waist, spooning me, my hand over his… very good

I like touching him like not inherently sexual, just when he talks, I’ll reach out and touch his knuckles or put my hand on his arm; it’s my subtle way of saying “I’m here for you”. He’s so warm and easy going, it definitely makes me open up a lot faster, which means stupid inside jokes and dumb pining.

12. What kinds of things does your f/o say when gushing about you?

Every time we fight side by side and I say a witty one liner while kicking ass and looking cute, Dante just: (lets be real,, all my f/os)

Dante is my hype man, and Lady and Trish will get the shit end of the stick bc once he starts, there’s no stopping him. Like, anything that reminds him of me he’s like “Well, Lay-” like Dante we know, you told us this already please, i think i know too much about your girlfriend you need to cease-he does the will smith pose (you know the one) when i get a new outfit in every game,, i love him hes so goofy

im posting this now bc everyone is asleep

#ask reply #s: no sweeter innocence #self ship #self insert #dmc #lee!!!

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