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multifandomgirl08 · 7 months ago

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Be Something You'll Love and Understand [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Daniel Ricciardo (Platonic)

Summary: He knew that he should have called his mom yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around the idea of being a father.

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: This is set the day after the Prologue.

Title taken from Simple Man originally by Lynyrd Skynyrd covered by Shinedown.

Words: 1.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Max had never felt more sleep-deprived in his life. Even staying up for a 24-hour endurance race had never made him this tired.

Daniel had been at his apartment last night helping him with Nico. He helped Max order formula, clothing, and diapers. Most of it would be delivered today. Both he and Daniel had to look up instructions on how to make the formula out of powder and warm water, and then how to put the bottles together so that Nico could eat.

Right now he was running on less than 8 hours of sleep, and Daniel was sitting on his couch with Nico who was finally asleep after a diaper change and a bottle that he didn’t end up screwing the portion size up.

He pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his pants and dialed his mom. He knew that he should have called her yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around this whole thing.

He let the phone ring in his ear for a few seconds before he heard the dial tone come to an end. “Mum?” He asked.

“Max?” She questioned back. The sound of her voice made some of the tightness in his shoulders go away.

“I… I need your help.”

“What’s going on Max?” He could hear the unmistakable sound of concern in her voice. It was something that he was still growing used to at times after not having remembered much of the time that he got to spend with her when he was a child.

“You remember Amelia?” Max’s eyes fell over the open letter that laid face up on his coffee table. Her scribbled words ran through his head. You’re the best thing for him. He had taken to finally reading it when Nico had managed to fall asleep around 4 am.

“Yes,” She started to say.

“She, she was pregnant when we ended things. I didn’t know, she never told me.” He started with. He was trying his best not to break down into tears. “Mum, she left me the baby.”

Sophie said nothing to him for a few moments before he heard, “Oh Max.”

“I don’t know what to do. Daniel has been helping me since I found out yesterday.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” She calmly said. “I’m going to pack a bag, and then I’m going to take the first flight that I can to get over there.”

Max just nodded even though his mother couldn’t see. “Has the baby eaten?” She asked.

“He ate an hour ago, Daniel finally managed to get him to sleep.” Max could hear the distant sound of typing through the phone.

“That’s good. Let him sleep for as long as possible. You and Daniel can take turns with him, and nap in between until I get there.”

“Mum?” He half asked.

“Yeah, Maxy?”

“Thank you, I love you.” She was dropping everything to fly to Monaco to help him with this. She didn’t have to do it. She could have just stayed home and tried to help him with this from a distance.

“I love you too, I should be there in a couple of hours. My flight should get in by 4, I’ll take a cab so you don’t have to pick me up. Okay?” Max tried to find the clock on the wall and saw he would only have to wait 5 hours until his mother would be here.

“Okay.”

After getting off the phone with Sophie, Max was able to get some sleep. It wasn’t much, he had been awake when Daniel had gone up to his apartment to grab a change of clothes, Max’s eyes started to feel heavy as he was lying on the couch. At some point he woke up, forcing his eyes open to see Nico still on his chest, and the clock read 4:29 pm.

He could hear the sound of keys banging against the front door to his apartment before the door opened fully.

“He’ll be happy to see you.” He heard from Daniel. “He’s out of his element with this.”

He couldn’t hear his mother’s response, but he did see her dark hair from where he was lying on the couch.

“He was still sleeping when I went to let you in.” Max could hear the wheels from what he could only assume was his mother’s suitcase.

“Max?” Sophie asked, looking out into the living room. He tried to move up the couch without moving Nico. As he tried to sit up, Nico let out a disgruntled whimper.

He met the eyes of his mother and could see the shock in her eyes. It was one thing for him to tell her that he had a child but another to see him with a baby swaddled into his chest.

“Hi Mum,” He did his best to move Nico into the crook of his arm. He didn’t want to wake him, but he did want to sit up on the couch.

Sophie made her way over to him leaving her bag by Daniel. She moved to sit next to him before peering into the bundle of blankets to see the little boy sleeping. She said nothing as she looked at Nico.

“Can I hold him?” She asked.

Max didn’t even have to think about moving Nico into her arms. He saw her lean back into the couch and then placed Nico into her arms. He could tell from the look on his mom’s face that she was a little shocked to be holding a baby that he had a part in creating.

In the background, Max heard Daniel mention something about putting Sophie’s bag in the guest room before leaving the two of them in the living room.

“How are you managing?” She asked. Max couldn’t help but slightly shake his head.

“Not well,” If his mother wasn’t holding Nico he would have put his head into her lap. He wanted to tell her what Jos had done, but he also didn’t want more bad blood between his parents. It was only in the last few years after he turned 18 that his parents had finally managed to co-exist with each other peacefully.

“What are you not telling me?” His mother knew him too well.

��Dad…” He tried to start saying, “He knew about Nico. He tried to pay Amelia off so I wouldn’t know about him.”

Sophie said nothing, she just kept rocking Nico in her arms for a few moments.

“Was it because of her… or was it about you racing?” Max knew that she didn’t really have to ask.

“You already know the answer.” He said flatly.

“Well, I’m sure to him he was doing what he thought was right by your career.” Max knew that his mother didn’t have to defend Jos or take his side on things. Was Max horrible for wanting her to tell him that Jos was out of line for making choices for him? Max was 23, he didn’t need his father going behind his back and making choices for him that he didn’t agree with.

“But what about what’s right for him?” Max gestured to Nico.

His mother gave him a soft smile, “Well, as his father. It’s up to you to figure out what you think that’ll be as he grows up.”

Max felt like he could start spilling all of the things that he didn’t want to do as a parent, every possible insecurity that he had, and the concerns about how all of this was going to work in the long run.

Max was grateful that Nico was in Sophie’s arms while the thoughts were running through his mind.

“How’s he doing, sleeping, eating?” Sophie gestured to her arms. Max started to talk about Nico’s odd sleep schedule. Every three hours almost on the clock he needed to either eat or sleep.

Max talked about the formula mishap, he had given Nico only three ounces, then he was still crying because he was hungry. Max made more but Nico only drank a bit not finishing the rest of the bottle.

When Nico started to get fussy, Max moved to the kitchen assuming that he wanted to eat, but instead, Sophie stuck her nose right up to Nico’s diaper and declared he needed to be changed. Max pulled out the diaper bag that Nico came with, finding the last two diapers left. Sophie had asked for a soft towel since they would be changing Nico on the couch since Max didn’t have a changing table.

Sophie oversaw as Max changed Nico’s diaper, only suggesting to not strap him into it so tight, after all, it was a diaper, not a racing seat with five-point harness. Max got it right leaving a two finger space in the front before snapping the bottom of Nico’s onesie back in place.

“Have you figured out how you are going to manage your schedule and him?” Sophie had asked after Daniel had offered to order all of them dinner.

“Not yet, I thought a nanny for when I am not home but for now, I can take care of him until I have to leave for promo in February.”

“That’s smart,” Daniel said. “Gives you a few months with ‘em before the season.”

Sophie gave Daniel a soft smile.

“I’ll stay with you until you find someone you like.” Sophie was quick to offer.

“Mum, no.” He immediately protested. Victoria just had Luka and his mom should be back in Belgium helping her, not worrying about him.

“I know what you’re thinking, but Victoria has Tom. You need me right now, just until you find a nanny and figure out a schedule for my grandson.” Sophie looked over to the couch where Nico was lying between a few pillows. He was fast asleep for now having just finished a full bottle of formula at the correct portion size.

He wanted to protest again, stating that he could figure it out. Sophie gave him a soft but stern look that he read as, I’m not leaving, deal with it.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x you #mv1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic

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liveyun · 21 hours ago

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you’re an idiot (so am i) | j.jk

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem oc/reader

rating. M

genre. enemies to 👀, university AU, neighbours AU, comedy, drama, romance, angst, slight smut

warnings. coarse language, crACK like lOTS OF IT, theyre both idiots. excessive bickering,,, gym related stuff,,, Medical school itself is a warning,, unhealthy amounts of protein mentions,, i’m Sorry if you’re a gymbro 😭🙏🏾, awkwardness, oc gets slightly injured, it gets slightly smutty 👀, unspoken feelings bc they both suck at communicating, some Cute stuff, that should be it but lmk if i missed any, its 4am

wc. 4.5k +

if this writing style flops, i’ll probably quit writing too 💀

it’s 7:04 AM

or is it really. what is the time again

unfortunately you are awake.

and it’s not by choice.

it’s because your protein 💪 PROTEIN 💪 MORE PROTEIN 🏋️ gymrat neighbour is up, doing burpees in his living room

and the walls between your apartments are criminally thin

and you’re convinced he’s trying to invent a new form of torture through burpees because the sQUEAKING OF HIS DAMN SHOES ARE JUST AS LOUD AS AN ALARM CLOCK!!

why is he even awake at this ungodly hour, you wonder for the 8293838th time since moving in

you feel like crying

for rEAL.

it was around 5:30 am when u finally had let out a sigh of relief at having finally completed your assignment

you roll out of bed, hair resembling a bird’s nest

what else is bed hair supposed to look like

“O YEA!”

here we go

again

you feel like ripping your already damaged hair bc why does he have to be so damn loud

has no occupant not filed a complaint against him yet?

so now u consider knocking on his door to complain... but you remember what happened the last time you tried

jungkook had answered the door holding two dumbbells liKe they were extensions of his arms, shirtless, smiling so brightly it could cure vitamin D deficiency

you knew you were cooked the moment smirked at you gawkinG at his physique and you felt your cheeks warming up

“oh, hey, Y/N,” he’d said, casually flexing mid-sentence with that stupid grin on his face “need something? Or just admiring the view?”

you haven’t known peace ever since

by 8:15 AM, you’ve surrendered to fate and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee

you swEar you hear Jungkook’s blender whirring as he makes another one of his infamous protein shakes

does he even eat anything which does not have protein powder

like ok you understand the value of protein

but anything which has that stupid thing in it automatically tastes like the Biggest Piece of Dogshit

and somehow that’s what you neighbour has 24/7

last week he had accidentally left one in the communal fridge

it smelled like death and regret.

absolute L

anyway u think u need to get something in ur system too and thats when u open your fridge

and sigh

it’s empty.

except for a jar of pickles and a, uh, questionable carton of oat milk

yea. you’ll have to get brunch today. no futher questions asked

10:32 AM

ur first class of the day

and guess what

u have made the mistake of sitting near Jungkook in the lecture hall.

again! ��

u swear that u are trying to focus on the lecture but is it really your fault that jungkook looks extra,,,...,,,

beefy

his notebook is open, but instead of notes, he’s drawing a disturbingly accurate diagram of biceps

and the shading looks pretty accurate too

he notices you staring, oof “anatomy is about more than just books, Y/N.”

you feel a muscle near your eye twitch

“i really don’t remember asking.”

ouch

that came out a bit too rude. . .

you feel like u should say sorry or something but he just flashes you that golden retriever grin

and somehow, you’re the one who feels stupid

12:10 PM

you’d think a med school lunch break would feel like a break

but no

the first thing you hear is the unmistakable pop of jungkook’s tupperware lid. it’s like pavlov’s bell, but instead of a dog, it triggers your impending irritation

of course it’s chicken, broccoli, and rice. gymrat starter pack™

does this man even know other foods exist?

atleast it doesn’t look unseasoned so maybe you can take it

you’re not the one having it anyway

“bon appétit,” he says with that smug grin, shoveling a forkful into his mouth like he’s filming a mukbang

you side-eye your sad excuse of a sandwich. “don’t you ever get bored of eating that?”

he gasps like a victorian man having seen the ankle of his wife for the first time

“bored? of gains? never.”

the chewing. oh god, the chewing. it’s so loud you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose

crunch. chew. sip of water from the world’s largest bottle. repeat.

“do you have to eat like a vacuum?”

he pauses, fork mid-air, and looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. then he grins. “do you have to be this cute when you’re annoyed?”

wha— cough!!

did you just choke at your sandwich infront of him?

-100 aura points

your brain just blue-screens

what the hell are you supposed to do with that information

12:22 pm

you haven’t touched your chips yet. you’re saving them for after jungkook’s food massacre ends

his tupperware is licked clean but he’s already eyeing your bag of chips like a hawk

“you gonna eat those?”

“yes, jungkook, i’m gonna eat my chips”

“cool”

c r u n c h

he’s already eaten half the bag.

u are genuinely considering homicide now

the girl from the next table suddenly waves at him, all giggly and twirling her hair like she’s auditioning for a romcom

“hey, jungkook! you should totally sit with us!”

he glances at you, one brow raised. “should i?”

“why are you asking me?” you snap, already annoyed (but like, annoyed in a normal way, not jealous. definitely not jealous)

you miss the way his lips quirk in the corners

“nah, i think i’ll stay here,” he says, smirking. “you’re better company anyway”

...

why is your face heating up. why. stop it

1:00 PM

you’re walking to your next class when jungkook catches up, sipping his protein shake. the smell is somewhere between expired yogurt and pure evil

“so, lunch was fun,” he says casually, like he didn’t commit multiple crimes against your sanity earlier

“for who?” you mumble, giving him the nastiest bombastic side eye

“for both of us,” he replies, grinning. “don’t lie, y/n, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around”

“i’d miss the peace”

he laughs heartily and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to both strangle him and maybe... smile a little

1:12 PM

ur phone dings

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bring more chips tomorrow

or don’t. i’ll just steal them again

>:D

you stare at your screen for a second, debating whether to respond or block his number

you type back

you : (1:13PM) touch my chips again and i’ll report you to student conduct

his reply is instant.

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bet they’d let me off for good behavior 😛

2:47 pm.

group project time!

otherwise known as “watch y/n slowly lose her sanity” time

you're hunched over your notes, trying to come up with literally anything for this cursed assignment while everyone else is glued to their phones

“guys, any ideas?” you try, for the fifth time, because teamwork makes the dream work, right?

wrong. dead silence. you can practically hear your soul exiting your body

one guy mutters, "we could... idk, make a powerpoint?" and goes back to scrolling on instagram. helpful king

you’re about three seconds away from making a powerpoint on why you hate everyone here when the door swings open

in walks jungkook, twenty minutes late, balancing a protein shake in one hand and a clipboard in the other

like he’s about to announce his plan for world domination

he slides into the chair next to you, annoyingly fresh, as if he hasn’t just already benched three cows at the gym

“did i miss anything?” he asks, sipping his shake and eyeing you with those boba lookalike peepers like he’s the main character

why are his eyes so

cute

“yeah, we solved climate change and made contact with aliens. you're late.”

he smirks. smirks. “nice. guess i’ll tackle world hunger next.”

one of your lab mates looks up from her phone just to whisper, “he’s so hot..”

my ass.

“he’s useless”

you’re about to drop-kick the clipboard out of his hands when he lazily stretches and says, “so what’s the plan, y/n? you always have the best ideas”

and just like that, everyone turns to you like a pack of hyenas waiting for their next meal

you might actually murder him. right after you finish this stupid project.

>:-)

midnight.

you’re staring at your notes like they’re written in ancient alien hieroglyphics. focus? yup, that’s a myth

through the wall, you hear it. again.

jungkook’s obnoxious gym playlist thumping loud enough to summon the gods of protein.

how about you just summon the reaper to maybe reap your soul or his

you try to ignore it. you really do. but then the bass drops, and you swear the walls start vibrating

ARGH

that’s it. you’ve snapped. you slam your pen down and march out of your apartment like a woman on a mission

by the time you’re at his door, you’re already regretting this decision

but sleep-deprived y/n? she’s not known for her impulse control

you bang on the door like your life depends on it

>:-(

after a moment, jungkook opens up, looking like he just stepped out of a gym rat rom-com. damp hair, earbuds in, wearing a tank top that shows off way too much arm.

good lord, those tattoos..

“what’s up?” he asks casually, pulling out an earbud, as if you didn’t just nearly break his door down

whats up? what thE hELL DOES HE MEAN WHATS UP??

“it’s midnight!” you yell, waving a hand in the general direction of your apartment. “some of us need sleep to survive!”

he blinks at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. “but you’re awake now. want to do a quick set of push-ups?

you stare at him. you need to go to the store from where he bought the audacity. “push-ups?!”

“yeah,” he says, dead serious. “it’s a good way to burn off frustration. i do them all the time when i’m annoyed.”

“maybe i should start,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes. “because i’m annoyed right now.”

jungkook grins like the demon he is. “great! i’ll grab my mat.”

before you can stop him, he’s already turned back into his apartment. you briefly consider running, but it’s too late.

this is your life now.

five minutes later, you’re on the floor of his apartment, struggling to do one (1) push-up while he effortlessly does twenty in the same time it takes you to collapse in defeat

you feel like someone has bathed you in sweat

“this is humiliating,” you groan, face smushed into the mat

maybe you should’ve just slept

“nah, you’re doing great,” he says, way too cheerfully for someone torturing you. “just three more and you’ll hit... like, five total.”

you debate throwing a dumbbell at him but decide against it

jail isn’t worth it.

yet.

five minutes later you’re on the floor of his apartment, now two (2) push-ups deep and already regretting every decision you’ve made up to this point

you try again, your arms shaking with the effort, your brain screaming for mercy, when—

crack

“ow, ow, ow!” you yelp as your shoulder protests in a way that’s probably not supposed to happen

“that’s it, i’m dOne” you wince, face red from the sheer humiliation and pain

jungkook is standing there with a weirdly sympathetic expression that’s 90% amusement and 10% concern

he’s crouching beside you now, and you can't help but notice his Bambi eyes, all big and concerned, looking at your shoulder like he's actually worried for you

fml

this is so unfair

“u good?” he asks, voice unusually soft, and you can’t help but notice that barely there scar on his left cheek pulling slightly as he frowns and looks down at you

you glare at him, wincing a little more than you’d like to admit

does it look like ur good lol

“i think i pulled something” you mutter, still holding your shoulder, and mentally kicking yourself for agreeing to do this in the first place

you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to him

“mm,” he hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to your face, and then down to your shoulder with that gentle focus you didn’t think he was capable of

oUuu

“you should’ve asked for help, rookie” he says with that familiar cocky grin, but you catch the slight crinkle of concern in his brow, the mole beneath his lips almost beckoning you to stare at it

why is he so dumb but also so stupidly handsome?

and then his fingers are brushing against your shoulder again, carefully massaging the area in a way that’s too intimate for someone who’s just your annoying gym-obsessed neighbor

your heart rate spikes, and suddenly the injury doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore

“i’m fine, really,” you lie, trying to brush it off, but the way his Bambi eyes are looking at you—all soft and worried—has your head spinning

oh god

“i don’t think you are” he mutters, voice low, as he places a hand gently on your waist, pulling you just a little closer

god, stop being so touchy

the fact that he smells like musk and with some citrus-y notes underneath doesn’t help either

you feel your cheeks warming and lips parting

you feel yourself leaning in despite all logic telling you to stop, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes, slow and cautious, like he’s waiting for your permission

you really cannot help but feel your heart skip a beat at how beautiful he looks. no like for real, his hair is slightly overgrown, curled at the ends which fall gracefully over his face

and how soft his lips look

your brain is too far gone, and the next thing you know, you’re kissing him, hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer

his hair feels so silky soft

but his lips are even softer, but there’s a desperate edge to the kiss, and you don’t know if it's because of your injury or the fact that you’ve both been playing this weird tension game for far too long

you feel like u can finally die kissing him like this

his hand slides down your back, pressing you into him as if you might disappear, and you pull away, gasping for air

jungkook’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks at you with an unreadable expression

“shit, i… i didn’t think i was actually going to do that” he murmurs, his voice rough and nearly trembling if u hear closely

you stare at his lips again, the mole under them, the way he looks so dumb but also so dumb handsome

his mouth parts to say something stupid again but you shush him with your pointer on his lips

“shut up and kiss me again, you idiot” you mutter, pulling him back in without a second thought

oH WOW

Jungkook doesn’t need any more encouragement. this time, it’s all teeth and heat, a kiss that feels like it might burn the air around you both

and your shoulder? completely forgotten, left in the dust

the kiss doesn’t end in some grand, romantic crescendo like the movies promised

you both were shamelessly making out on his mat

you were perched on his lap and both of u were busy eating eachother’s mouths (it sounds gross but that’s what exactly u two were doing) when suddenly you give his hair a tug

and you hear a moan spilling from him

his hips buck up and you gasp, but it ends with him abruptly pulling away

he’s breathing like he just ran an hour on the treadmill. cheeks all flushed, lips shining with saliva and eyes wide

and your heart is hammering in your chest like it’s trying to escape

jungkook stares at you, lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and wild, and for once, the idiot looks just as lost as you feel

“i—uh—” you stammer, the words tangling in your throat because what the hell are you supposed to say after something like that

“y- yeah,” he cuts in, his voice rough and strained like he’s been punched in the gut, “same”

same? SAME?!

you glare at him, more out of panic than anger, because suddenly the room feels too small, and his scent—something annoyingly musky and Jungkook-ish—is now overwhelming you

“i, uh, should go” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and clutching your sore shoulder like a lifeline

jungkook doesn’t stop you, just sits there on the floor, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and an expression you can’t quite place

“cool” he mutters, dragging a hand through his messy hair as his jaw clenches

you don’t say anything else, don’t even look back as you practically bolt out of his apartment and into the safety of your own, slamming the door shut behind you

breathe, you tell yourself, leaning against the door, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss

you won’t lie, you really didn’t think it would take just a tug of hair to have Mr. Muscle moaning under you

and that kind of inflated ur ego too

>:-)

but now

as u stand behind your closed door

the warmth that had filled your chest moments ago is quickly replaced by a knot of confusion and panic

because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with Jungkook of all people

he’s my annoying gym-rat neighbor. this is… this is stupid

or is this really?..

no matter how much you try to convince yourself, your fingers keep brushing your lips absentmindedly, and your brain replays the moment over and over again like some kind of cruel joke

the next morning, you half expect him to blast his gym playlist at full volume to piss you off like he always does

but it’s quiet

too quiet

jungkook doesn’t blast music. doesn’t clank weights around. doesn’t do anything to make his presence known, and it’s driving you insane

you don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does

when you leave for class, you catch a glimpse of him locking his door, but he doesn’t even glance your way

just slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks off like you don’t exist

asshole

yea that hurt. a Lot. like a good amount, because you are sure that you felt that pain in the centre of your chest

but it’s not like you’re any better

you bury yourself in your textbooks, pretending the kiss never happened, even though your stupid brain refuses to let it go

your chest feels tight every time you hear his door open or his voice filter through the thin walls

and you hate how you feel disappointed every time he doesn’t acknowledge you

like you really are a stranger to him

:-(

it’s pathetic, but you can’t help it

the silence between the two of you stretches on like an invisible barrier

days pass, and the two of you become masters of the fine art of avoidance

there’s a strange art to it, like walking on eggshells in your own apartment

even if u two live in separate apartments, it just feels

weird

you are so used to him being so noisy and what not

but the silence is heavy, uncomfortable, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air

and it’s clEar neither of you know how to handle whatever the hell this is

you can’t figure out whether it’s a relief or suffocating

and every time you pass him in the hallway or see him through your apartment window, it’s like a silent conversation you’re not having

and that, somehow, feels worse than everything else

you want him to say something. anything.

but he doesn’t

and neither do you

and it makes you sick how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of pretending he doesn’t exist

even when he’s right there.

you go to class and he’s there

sitting three rows ahead of you like he’s deliberately trying to ignore you

and with that girl who cannot seem to have her hands off his bicep

and you’re… fine with it

totally fine

you are just hoping that your glare is enough to burn a hole in her skull

it’s just that you can’t stop staring at the back of his head

like maybe he’ll turn around and say something but nope

the entire lecture passes and he doesn’t even glance over

and you try not to overthink it but you’re pretty sure jungkook is doing the same thing to you

ignoring you

on purpose

you’re not imagining it, right?

lunch rolls around and you sit down at your usual spot

jungkook’s sitting at the table next to you with his back to you

he doesn’t even look up when you sit down

normally, he would’ve sent you a little half-smile or asked about your day or whatever. .

but now? nothing

it’s like you’re invisible

and that’s fine. you don’t care.

but deep down, you feel this weird lump in your chest

because you didn’t expect this coldness from him

even after everything that’s happened

and you’d even unconsciously brought his favourite flavour of chips he especially likes..

then you see him texting on his phone

and you can’t help but peek over at his screen

jungkook is texting someone

and it’s not you

for some reason, that stings more than it should, but you swallow it down and pretend you didn’t notice

the silence between the two of you stretches out for days

it’s like the entire universe is pretending you never had that moment together

the night when everything took a wild ass turn

but jungkook’s acting like it never happened

and so are you.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s better

maybe he regrets kissing you.

maybe you even made him uncomfortable?..

and maybe this is easier

you can’t decide if it hurts or if you’re just overthinking it

either way, you stop checking his texts, stop wondering what he’s doing in his apartment

you try your best to pretend it’s okay

but deep down, you miss the stupid moments

the ones where he wasn’t so distant where it feels like something ended between you two before it could even start.

it feels like it’s been over a decade

and you hate it.

but you push it aside

it’s just… the silence is way too loud now.

you’re sitting in your room, trying to convince yourself that letting go of jungkook is the right thing to do

and perhaps ur failing miserably lol

but it’s hard because every five minutes you catch yourself staring at something that reminds you of him

your notes? he doodled on them during lectures

your hoodie? yeah, it’s his. he lent it to you one day and never asked for it back

your heart? yeah. he kind of stole that too

you’re spiraling between sleep and insanity when there’s a knock on your door

no, wait—it’s not a knock

it’s banging — like someone’s fist is about to break through the wood

WHO CALLED THE COPS ON YOU ONG

you jump up, your heart pounding, and open the door

and there he is

jungkook—standing there, looking like he just ran a marathon and fought a bear at the same time

hair all messy, slight bags underneath his eyes and kinda disheveled outfit

for a split second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and suddenly having him standing in front of you is making your heart race like crazy

“i can’t—” he stops, breathless, hands on his knees like he’s about to collapse

you’re standing there, eyes wide, totally taken aback by the sight of him, feeling a mix of relief and something else you can’t quite place

yet

“i can’t take it anymore,” he says, looking up at you with that ridiculous face of his

you grab that meaty bicep of him, ushering him to stand up

“what are you talking about?” you ask, completely confused

“you. i’m talking about you,” he says, taking a step closer

hUH

the air around you feels like it’s being sucked out of the room

your head is spinning because after all this time, here he is, right in front of you

“i like you. i’ve always liked you. and i didn’t know how to tell you, so i…”

“i got all this gym equipment just to bother you. i’d turn the music up way too loud, and i thought that’d make you notice me. i sat next to you at lunch, even in lectures, doing everything to annoy you because i didn’t know how else to approach you, i really thought—”

“jungkook.”

you blink, processing everything in a blur, your heart still hammering in your chest

but he doesn’t quite listen to you. “i knew you liked my sketches we had during cardio lectures, so i always made sure to draw—”

“juNGKOOK!”

you cut him off, smacking his idiotic shoulders “you’re an idiot.”

jungkook stops, eyes widening a little, but there’s this look of relief on his face

like a huge weight has just been lifted off him

almost like when u get to pee after holding it in for hours

“i know,” he says softly, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he looks standing there

he somehow looks

small.

“then why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” you ask, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement

jungkook smiles sheepishly, his pearly whites flashing. “i guess i thought this would be easier.”

easier.

only if he knew that each moment without him felt like the earth opening up and swallowing you

AND!!! HIS FAVOURITE ONION VINEGAR FLAVORED CHIPS!! which used to be your absolutely hated flavour but somehow you’ve caught a liking to them recently

how ironic

the room feels heavy with tension as you both stand there, unsure of what to say next, but his gaze is so intense, it makes your heart skip

“say something,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “please.”

you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, still flustered, but there’s something about his earnestness that makes everything else fade into the background

and the way his caramel brown eyes nearly sparkle underneath your dimly lit apartment lights

you shake your head with a smile.

“you’re an idiot.”

but you're smiling like a total fool because what else are you supposed to do when the guy you’ve been in love with just confessed to you?

jungkook’s face softens, and then he smiles too

a smile which looks so adorable you feel your heart will burst

and it’s over for you

“so, uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, looking bashful. “does that mean you like me too?”

you roll your eyes, your heart racing all over again, and grab the front of his shirt to pull him inside

“kiss me already”

the door slams shut behind you.

and the rest

as they say, is history

:-)

a/n : i love them bad :��(

mlist | let me know what you think anonymously :))

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 11 months ago

Text

holiday drabbles 5/9

levi ackerman wasn't into snowball fights. he just wasn't. it was uncomfortable, with snow always seeping into your jacket or shoes and getting treaded into the house and turning into sludge instead.

yet, what started out as a three-way snowball fight between you and your twins quickly escalated into a 3 v 1 as they dragged their reluctant father into the mix.

although you initially spread the teams evenly, with each of you taking one of your twins in your respective teams, you quickly realized that you were outmatched, with you barely even being able to get your bearings before another barrage of snowballs came flying your way. the only possible way for you to even keep up was to have a 3 v 1.

"thought you didn't like snowball fights," you huffed with a pout as you followed levi inside, patting the snow off your coat.

"i don't," he responded in a matter-of-fact tone, waving you off once he saw the skeptical look in your eyes. "you're the one that told them to drag me into it."

"no, they asked why their father wasn't playing and i merely suggested getting you to play."

now levi was the one that had a skeptical look in his eyes.

"and how is that any different?"

before you had a chance to retort, one of your kids sprinted at you with the packs of hot cocoa powder that you had promised them with after they helped with shoveling the snow off the sidewalk.

levi watched as you walked off slightly frustrated with him, the edges of his lips slightly upturned as he watched you prepare the hot cocoa for your overly excited kids that still had their faces all flushed from being out in the cold.

the slight smile persisted even after seeing the subtle hints of snow that had been trailed in from the outdoors and through the living room into the kitchen.

levi ackerman wasn't into snowball fights. it was too messy and always resulted in nothing but chaos. but if both you and his kids were adamant on dragging him into one, then he was more than prepared to dedicate his heart into kicking your ass in even something as silly as a snowball fight.

#i didn't know how to end this dkfjslkdfjsd #holiday event #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

178 notes · View notes

tachimichishrine · 10 months ago

Text

"barista"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

hunting dogs x gn!barista!reader hcs

warnings: none!!

jouno saigiku

oh dear

harasses everyone

harasses his partner

harasses his mf FOOD

by this, I mean he sends things back, not bc he isn't satisfied but bc he can

ESPECIALLY if his partner is on their shift, he'll be extra nasty

"what can I get you today, Jouno?"

"an iced coffee, with specifically 5 cubes of ice 2cm by 2cm, 1 pack sweetener, a drizzle of chocolate and 25ml of 3% milk and, oh, do you have chocolate sprinkles? yeah, I want some of that on top, add some whipped cream too and-"

orders the longest thing and then sends it back because "there were incomplete sprinkles" while staring down the barista with a huge grin

his partner is literally on the verge of breaking up with him for this

however, sometimes he gets bored of toying with them and just orders a coffee

he likes to observe people

it's kinda creepy but he'll pick a seat in the corner and listen as his partner writes down orders and smiles at other people, and then gets somewhat internally offended when they laugh at the random customer's dumb jokes

he narrows his eyes (even more, if that's possible?) at them at wonders why he doesn't make them laugh as loudly as that

takes it as a challenge

now you've got a clingy af jouno who sticks around the desk and seduces his way into the kitchen by flirting with the manager (his partner's boss)

his partner wants to YELL at him that they have to work, but he just places his hands on their hips and kisses their forehead and gives them the slightest hug and tells them how much he loves them, so their partner reluctantly tolerates his presence around their work

he may not know how to cook but he smells every single ingredient and is a surprisingly fast learner so the manager is lowkey trying to recruit him bc of his undeniable talent 👹

overall, he does help in the end, but his partner has to put up with a lot of teasing and nastiness. occasional jokes and cute little pranks where jouno would place a heavily powdered donut under their nose to make them sneeze and eventually messing up the ENTIRE place

but damn, those perfect milkshakes he made are worth it all

tecchou suehiro

he is easily distracted

asks his partner all sorts of things

"hey, how do they make coffee?"

"well, you put the beans in the machine-"

"beans???"

"yes??? coffee beans???"

"coffee???comes???from??beans???"

"yes, tecch, it does u adorable idiot 🙄"

"does that mean you can make coffee out of the beans they put in burritos and stuff?"

"no- wait I don't think so- actually, maybe-"

other customers overhear the discussion and chip in and the entire thing escalates to the WEIRDEST topics

the manager is pretty impartial as to his presence, given that he doesn't disturb anyone and usually just orders and silently observes his partner with a faint smile on his lips

his partner turns, notices his gaze and bites the inside of their cheek to prevent themselves from blushing/grinning at him, then get back to work

they do, however, like to blow him little kisses while on their shift, or to leave a small note on Tecchou's orders like "ily <3" or "you're so cute 💕"

he is a gentleman omg

he once spent the entire time his partner was on their shift holding the door for the people who entered

gets asked if he works there, and he automatically replies yes and helps everyone with their stuff, whether it's a broken glass or spill or if they need sweetener in their drink

nvm the manager now loves him

he makes it a point to visit his s/o as often as possible when they're working, even if they live together or have a date planned for later that day. he might not say much, but he loves to be in their presence as often as possible

a literal GOD at taking care of angry customers

whereas jouno would probably subtly threaten them, Tecchou is just gonna walk up to their face and be rly straight-forward about it

"sir, what's your problem?"

"I placed my order for coffee, a SINGLE COFFEE OVER HALF AN HOUR AGO AND I STILL HAVEN'T RECEIVED IT??? THIS SERVICE IS TERRIBLE-"

"sir, just take a breath. the employee over here is going to make it for you right away, and free of charge, right?"

ofc, they'd nod and do as he said bc the person is no longer fuming

the biggest issue with having tecchou in the café is his orders

he asks for the oddest things, including, but not limited to, sugar on rice and a hard-boiled egg with the shell still on

his partner makes sure to explain to their boss that this isn't anything abnormal for him, and that they'll make sure to take care of the order themselves

after all, putting together a weird food combo in order to get a chubby-cheeked tecchou stuffing his face with sugary rice is very worthwhile

teruko okura (aged up?? ig??? bc children running around a café is odd i think?? wtf is her real age-)

she is NOT made to be in a café with a serene vibe

no bc she picks up fights with everyone who breathes

"hey, idiot, stop breathing so loudly or else i'll come over there and shut you up myself-"

her partner thus keeps a stall in the very corner specifically for her that's far away from the other people 😐

teruko loves sugary and spicy flavors all in one, like a strong cinnamon or ginger, any type of warm drink that smells strongly rly

her partner does that mystical thing with the milk that creates a heart on the surface of the drink that looks so cute

teruko chugs down the drink without even looking at it 💀

she isn't one for those kinds of gestures, and would much rather physically cling to her partner's side instead

sneaks up from under the counter and then pops up like a weasel with a HUGE smile on her face, the kind of cute smile that is like, showing all of her teeth and SUPER contagious and makes you wanna pat her on the head and hug her

the manager DOES NOT agree with this tho and kicks her out repeatedly. teruko is so close to snapping the manager's neck but her partner intervenes and reminds her that they still need their job

the entire café, teruko concludes, is against her

the powdered sugar gets thrown into her face by an unknown force

salt gets dumped on her hair

she slips on a puddle in the corner

the milkshake machine explodes in her face

it's just NOT her scene

that is the last time she visited her partner while at work, telling them that she's going to be waiting outside once their shift is over bc the pain is NOT worth it

fukuchi ochi

fukuchi barely has time to spend with his s/o, given how much of a busy man he is

so, he'll support them by financing the café itself and making sure they get high-quality ingredients and that the working conditions are acceptable

he does make it a point to ONLY get his coffee from there, tho, but doesn't use it as an excuse to talk to his partner. he's in he gets the coffee, then he's out

for this reason, his partner - who is not an idiot and needs human affection just like the rest of the planet - "suddenly and mysteriously" becomes a klutz

"accidentally" drops the coffee on him as they're serving his order, which leads him to freak out, and then rush to the bathroom to wash it off

apologizing profusely, his partner will follow him to the bathroom and help him out, using this as an opportunity to 1) get him to take off his shirt 😌 2) talk to him

this happens for about 3 weeks before his dense ass realizes that they just want some love

tries this out, showing up and ordering his usual coffee, and then asks them how their day has been

they BEAM at him, and gush about the tiniest things

he won't admit to himself that he loves seeing them so happy like that and that it makes his heart flutter a bit, instead telling himself the next time he stays that he's doing it "out of convenience" or some bs like that

eventually finds himself spending hours in the café just talking to his partner about random things, whether that is during their break or while the s/o is supposed to be working

the manager doesn't have the balls to tell him that they're supposed to be working bc fukuchi supplies like half the financial funds for the place 😍

he might start to be showing up late to hunting dogs' meetings for the next while, but spending the time with his partner has been shown to be more than worth.

tachihara michizou

It's very likely that the café is the place he met his partner, or at least has some kind of emotional value to him

either it's where they first asked him out (bc there's no way he'd make the first move) or maybe he was caught in the rain and his future partner, walking out of the café while holding an umbrella, offered it to him with a bright smile

for this reason, he likes to meet them here as much as possible

HOWEVER, there's an issue with dating tachihara, a big one at that

mid-way through the relationship, he had to go undercover and work for the mafia

since his partner had met him and knew only of his work as being "dangerous" and "top-secret", they understood a bit when he said that he had to go on a business trip of sorts and things would get complicated

tachihara lowkey went into a full-on breakdown bc he had never been loved like that before and felt sick at the idea of leaving, but his partner assured him that they'll be waiting for the day he comes back, and held him in their arms for the entire night, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear and gently kissing his forehead

eventually, he did have to leave. in the beginning, he teared up every night while in the port mafia thinking of his love

so, once he got the mafia's trust and moved along in the ranks, he got more freedom to move around and stuff. eventually, he got so heartsick he found himself subconsciously wandering right in front of the café out of habit

before he could snap out of his trance and get tf out of there, his partner noticed him and pulled him into the tightest hug in existence while sobbing their heart out

tachihara couldn't imagine the pain of saying goodbye for good again

so, he made it a rule to come and visit them on his shifts as often as possible, discreetly for their safety

they a b a n d o n their job and run over to hug him every single time he appears bc they never know if it'll be the last time they'll see him

the manager doesn't really follow the story, but tachihara's partner is one of the harder workers in the café, and the café itself isn't that popular anyways, so there's no point in yelling at them

tachihara isn't picky about what food he eats or what drinks he sips, so long as he gets to hear his partner's voice and be near them (I strongly hc that he has attachment issues)

he orders hot chocolate, even in the summer, and still hasn't shaken off that child-like tendency of chugging it down aggressively and ending up with a chocolate milk mustache, which his partner teases him about every single time

one time, he wasn't vigilant enough and gin - who was supposed to deliver a message from the boss about one thing or another - followed tachihara all the way to the café

saw tachihara kissing some stranger 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯👩‍🦯

she walked up to him, and his eyes went WIDE. his partner didn't recognize gin for obvious reasons, and thus got embarrassed, climbed off of tachihara and stood back at the counter, and asked her what her order was, since technically the shop was still operating

gin was confused af

she creased her brows at them, shook her head then turned towards tachihara

oh boy tachihara is screwed

at first, his partner thought he'd been cheating on them or something, then thought about it twice and realized that he wasn't the type to cheat on people. so they (not-so-)gently shoved gin out of the way and told tachihara that they "needed a smoke", a codeword for "outside. now. we need to talk"

he told gin that he'd received the message, and to tell the boss that he'll deal with it tomorrow, and then the mafiosa went on her way.

his s/o demanded an explanation as to who tf that was, and tachihara reluctantly explained that it was someone he worked with

his partner isn't an idiot, they knew that his work was dangerous and that "someone he worked with" would be equally so, and thus they realized by the way he was perspirating with cold sweat and seemed pretty shocked that the girl had shown up

eventually, things were sorted out and no harm was done. tachihara made gin swear she wouldn't tell anyone about his dating situation, and like the frikkin amazing person she is, she agreed.

even though he slipped up that time, he couldn't stop himself from heading back to the café and meeting up with his partner as often as possible

in the end, the risk was clearly worth it

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thesilliestrovingalive · 3 months ago

Text

Updated: November 23, 2024

Reworked Character #4: Fio Germi

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, alcoholism, and SA.

Real name: Fiolina Hortensia Germi

Alias: Teatime in the Battlefield

Occupation: Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. and the lead medical technician of the Regular Army’s special forces

Retirement plans: Become a sports doctor and astrophysicist, open up a bakery, and start a family

Special skills: Chiropractic and massage therapy, knowledge in military medicine, housework, acupuncture, and astronomy

Hobbies: All types of sewing (hand sewing, machine sewing, embroidery, and quilting), ballroom dancing, giving her friends massages, cooking delicious meals and enjoying it on a picnic outside, and frequenting petting zoos, nature reserves, and art and outer space museums

Likes: Peppino, being in Tarma’s arms, the beauty of nature, baking cakes and other sweet treats, and reading books on stories centred around the stars and constellations

Dislikes: Scolding hot and freezing cold baths, people cheating at card games, the time she had to wear orthodontic braces, insects and creepy crawlies, and sneezing on the battlefield

Favourite food: Homemade sandwiches and gelato

Favourite drink: Ice tea (preferably Queen Mary)

Sexuality: Heteroromantic demisexual

Gender: Female

Age: 15 (in 2022), 21 (in 2028), 23 (in 2030), 25 (in 2032), 27 (in 2034), 34 (in 2041), 36 (in 2043), 37 (in 2044), and 40 (in 2047)

Blood type: O+

Weight: 145 lbs. (66 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 2” (157.48 cm) Italian mesomorph with sloping shoulders, upper arms that carry some of her weight, a bit of belly fat, voluptuous breasts and hips, and prominent thighs. She has olive skin, droopy blue-grey eyes, and brownish freckles scattered across her face and neck. Fio has straight, slightly messy orangish-brown hair that falls just above the middle of her upper back, framed by blunt bangs and chin-length, layered sides. However, she typically wears it tied up in a ponytail. Her fingernails are painted an English lavender hue, and she wears thick, winged dark brown eyeliner, a soft rosy red blush on her cheeks and nose, and cherry blossom pink lip gloss. As a result of battle injuries and her own clumsiness, she bears a bullet wound near the centre of her left calf and numerous cut marks, stab scars, and scrapes on her arms and legs.

Her military gear consists of polarised, silver-plated transition lens eyeglasses, a metal dog tag necklace with her name, and a cordovan Eisenhower jacket. She wears a pink lavender T-shirt with a dogwood rose stripe running along the front and a carmine bra underneath. She wears carmine gloves and a gold-buckled leather belt to secure her ebony army cargo shorts, which fall just above her knees. She also wears ebony paratrooper boots, dogwood rose knee and elbow pads, and over-the-calf bittersweet shimmer socks. She has a khaki waist pack attached to the back of her belt, which carries her nail polish, lip gloss, eyeliner, two makeup brushes (a large one and a small one), a makeup sponge, and a powder blush palette. She wears a leather sheath for her hatchet, a gun holster for her handgun, and a holder for her tonfa.

The pockets of Fio's Eisenhower jacket carry around Peppino, her beloved greyish-brown teddy bear with a pearlescent blue bowtie, and an embroidered cockade of Italy pin. It carries a wooden calico Japanese Bobtail maneki-neko figurine, which is a gift from Eri. The figurine wears a metallic green collar with a red stripe and a gilt-brass bell. Its right arm is raised, and its left paw holds a koban coin. It also carries a metallic green mystery watch with a transparent crystal dial that showcases black hands in the centre of a crimson inverted triangle, accented by a ruddy blue dot. Shimmering saffron-yellow Roman numerals, ranging from I to XII, are positioned around the dial, separated by three dots each. The pockets of her army cargo shorts carry a canister of pepper spray, a Ventolin inhaler, a bottle of azithromycin pills, and a bottle of specialised prescription supplements specifically designed to manage her cystic fibrosis.

Over her T-shirt, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. Her black ammunition bandolier is slung over her right shoulder, and the back of her Eisenhower jacket features an embroidered S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. logo. Fio carries an ebony load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, fire bombs, stones, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, and a picnic basket filled with prepared sandwiches. She also carries her latest sewing project and its accompanying supplies, a Hexagon Arms M-3685, a cat o' nine tails whip, medical supplies, and a scientific telescope.

She always wears a pair of teardrop-shaped pink opal earrings and a gold chain necklace featuring a red coral cornicello amulet, believed to ward off bad luck and bring good fortune. She wears a khaki army cap, once worn by her father during his military service, with the Regular Army insignia emblazoned on the front. Additionally, she wears a rosy pink armband on her left arm, featuring an European bee-eater perched on an olive branch at its centre.

Character summary: She's initially reserved and timid around strangers but warms up and opens up once she becomes familiar with new people. She's a compassionate, considerate, and overly cautious listener who's really good with children and lends everyone a generous helping hand. She's sensitive and unafraid to show her true emotions, often engaging in introspective thought. She possesses a steadfast commitment to justice, having no tolerance for individuals who seek to stir up strife, and is slow to forgive those who inflict harm on others for their own selfish purposes. Despite her quiet and calm demeanour, she's surprisingly prone to stress and anxiety, particularly when confronted with obnoxious noises, unwanted physical contact or situations where she can't escape. Even though she's a seasoned warrior, she harbours an intense fear of insects and creepy crawlies, often resorting to hiding behind Tarma, Marco or Eri and insisting they handle the situation. On occasion, she displays an almost childlike naivety and exuberance, typically after completing a mission or while off duty.

She's a very friendly and gentle clean freak who'll do anything to help out her family, friends, comrades, and those in need. She prepares all her meals with love and dedication, considering others' likes and dislikes, hoping they'll enjoy what she's made. When talking to others, she often uses lively hand gestures and animated facial expressions to emphasise certain ideas. She gets easily flustered by compliments and flirtatious advances, blushing deeply and becoming nearly speechless. She's a somewhat superstitious person, believing in things like placing one's hat on a bed being a sign of bad luck for homeowners and spilling salt being a harbinger of financial troubles. She's a nature-loving girl who's incredibly clever and always thinks optimistically. She's a great strategist who excels in keep-away tactics. However, she often pushes people away due to fear and isn't the most skilled fighter, but can fight when necessary.

Whenever she's faced with the death of a child, a comrade or friend being severely injured, being touched inappropriately or being rudely insulted, her face darkens. She becomes cold-hearted and deadly serious, and her tactical prowess shines through most. She's quite curious around strangers, nervously trailing them and asking a few questions to get to know them. Despite cherishing the importance of friendship, she sometimes feels isolated by her exceptional intelligence, privileged upbringing, and cystic fibrosis. She values maintaining a healthy work-life balance and prioritising her time with loved ones, holding both in higher regard than success. She believes that living in or exploring beautiful places helps her become a better person by gaining a deeper appreciation of the world around her.

She originally harboured romantic feelings for Marco, but they dissipated after he disclosed that he isn't interested in romantic and sexual relationships. Her affections eventually shifted to Tarma, whom she found charming due to his silliness, emotional intelligence, Hokkaido dialect, the soothing sound of his voice, pleasant smile, and knack for building professional motorcycles. She finds immense comfort in Tarma's presence and often offers him solace when he's having a rough day or struggling with self-doubt.

After her romantic relationship with him fully blossoms, she forms an exceptionally close physical and emotional bond with him. However, her tendency to become overly attached manifests at times, especially when feelings of fear or loneliness arise. Despite being in a romantic relationship with Tarma, she maintains a non-possessive attitude, unconcerned if he flirts or sleeps with other women and men, considering it his personal freedom. However, she does prefer openness and honesty, ensuring that he communicates with her about his actions. She sometimes gets into debates with Tarma about what they should or shouldn't do, but she usually remains polite and calm, focusing on finding a solution that benefits both of them rather than worrying about negative consequences. After a debate, she often apologises to Tarma and follows up with a hug.

She eventually enters into a polyamorous queerplatonic relationship with Marco and Tarma, which she deeply cherishes and further satisfies her craving for emotional intimacy. She's displeased when Nadia takes advantage of her kindness to avoid responsibilities. However, she appreciates Nadia's help with dessert-making, although Fio often has to bribe her by offering something equally sweet or letting her have the largest share of a batch to persuade her to lend a hand. She's frustrated by Eri's overprotectiveness, especially when it comes to Tarma, as it reminds her of her father's behaviour and makes her feel like she's being treated like a child. She finds Red Eye to be an incredibly intimidating person, despite their relatively friendly relationship, which occasionally involves sharing a cup of tea together.

When she's reached her limit, feels threatened or needs to express her authentic feelings about something that gets under her skin, she's capable of standing up for herself and making her voice heard. She rarely swears, but when someone's pushed her too far, she'll unleash a stern reprimand, peppered with profanities in Italian. She's unconcerned by Marco's and others' opinions that carrying Peppino is childish because the teddy bear provides her with personal comfort and solace, particularly when she's anxious or sad. Ever since meeting Ralf, who encouraged her to try new things, she has mustered the courage to pursue thrilling experiences and enjoy them to the fullest, even if they carry some risk.

She's not fond of drinking alcohol due to its bitter taste and intoxicating effects, which make her feel nauseous and slightly nervous. However, on rare occasions, she’ll let loose and indulge in alcohol with her friends, especially after a challenging mission. When intoxicated, she starts to act playful, flirtatious and sexually teasing towards Tarma, obnoxiously loud, agitated, and bluntly honest.

She harbours private reservations about the Regular Army's methods, particularly when it comes to neutralising perceived threats, including journalists and enemy-affiliated personnel. She acknowledges that not everyone in these groups is malicious, but rather, many are innocent individuals caught in complex circumstances. Moreover, she struggles with the nagging feeling that those closest to her have been conditioned to uncritically accept the Regular Army's moral stance, never questioning its motivations or ethics. However, she's deeply afraid to express these thoughts aloud, fearing deadly repercussions and unwilling to risk stirring up trouble or jeopardising the relationships she values. She often pushes these thoughts aside by focusing on becoming a better fighter and drawing inspiration from high-ranking individuals like Marco and Clark, whom she greatly admires.

She has a tendency to fall asleep extremely quickly at bedtime or naptime, and her loud snoring can be disruptive to others who are trying to rest or focus on important tasks in the same room. She would be heartbroken if Peppino were lost, destroyed or stolen forever, as the teddy bear has been her constant companion since birth. However, she would be overjoyed to be reunited with the original Peppino or receive a new teddy bear that's an exact replica.

She believes that war serves no purpose other than destruction, resulting from conflicts that escalate beyond the control of free will. In her view, war profoundly alters the moral fabric of society, accelerating the advancement of weaponry and technology used in conflict. As a firm believer in virtue ethics, she thinks morality is about becoming the kind of person we truly want to be. To become a better person, people must cultivate values like honesty, bravery, justice, and generosity, leading to a morally righteous life and self-improvement. By practicing fundamental moral values, people develop the ability to make tough choices when faced with ethical dilemmas, learning to trust their instincts, listen to their conscience, and stand firm in their convictions. She holds that life is more powerful than death, continually finding innovative ways to adapt and flourish.

Backstory: Fiolina Hortensia Germi was born on October 2, 2007 in Genoa, Italy. The Germi family is renowned for their vast wealth, military service, and philanthropic endeavours. Originally merchants and nobles, they amassed their fortune in the Mediterranean region during the Age of Exploration and have since maintained their wealth, now managing various corporations and philanthropic organisations. True to their militaristic heritage, the Germis have participated in numerous conflicts, including the Napoleonic Wars of the 1800s, the Italian Unification Wars of the 19th century, and modern-day wars against terrorism worldwide. Sadly, many Germi warriors lost their lives, leading to an important family custom where the chosen heir of the Germi family must serve in the military.

Alessandro Germi, Fio's father, was a fearsome soldier in the Regular Army in his earlier years, serving alongside Fabriclus Roving. However, he was forced to leave military service after being severely injured during a shootout, which left him crippled and suffering from debilitating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). His body bore the scars of countless battles, a testament to the wounds he had endured and the bloodshed he had witnessed on the front lines. After returning to civilian life and receiving proper support, Alessandro successfully restored his family's struggling business. He also started a family with his beloved wife, Giulietta, a talented seamstress and manager of a luxurious art museum.

Alessandro's wish was to have a healthy son as he feared that sending a daughter onto the battlefield would be a perilous ordeal. To his surprise and dismay, Giulietta gave birth to a daughter, and due to health complications, she couldn't bear any more children. Fio's mother would also experience postpartum depression after childbirth and passed down a disease that runs deep within her heritage: cystic fibrosis. Alessandro's deep-seated fears for Fio's safety often led him to become overly protective, causing tension with Giulietta, who found his helicopter parenting suffocating.

Despite her parents' mental health struggles, they went above and beyond to care for her, providing unwavering love and support. For half of her elementary school years, she was homeschooled and her parents taught her a diverse range of subjects, including mathematics. They encouraged Fio’s appreciation for friendships, the outdoors, and the finer things in life. They even fostered her love of astronomy, gifting her a scientific telescope on her 10th birthday, which she still has to this day.

Giulietta often took her on enriching outings to nature reserves and art museums, where she learned about biology and art history. Her mother also taught her the importance of domestic duties, showing her how to do her chores and clean the house. On special occasions, her mother would dress her up in pretty dresses and give her adorable animal plushies, which she still keeps.

She was bullied and exploited by the other children because of her wealthy status and overt politeness, but her father and teachers consistently intervened. As she grew, she discovered her own voice, learning to assert herself with courage and conviction. Standing up to her bullies with firm yet gentle confidence, she effectively silenced their taunts and earned respect. Like Marco, Fio excelled in all her classes, demonstrating exceptional academic prowess and a deep appreciation for effort and lifelong learning.

However, her life took a devastating turn near the end of her secondary school days. A sudden and tragic terrorist airstrike, attributed to the Ptolemaic Army, struck Genoa, Italy, claiming Giulietta among its many victims. Her father was the most affected by this loss, turning to a life of alcoholism and self-isolation. Although Alessandro still cared about Fio and tried his best to support her, his alcoholism and newfound self-isolating behaviour made it challenging for him to do so. As a result, the butler and maids who worked in the mansion frequently took care of her.

It took time for Fio and Alessandro to heal from this loss, but they remained resilient. To cope with the loss of her mother, she turned to sewing, baking, and reading books on ancient and modern medical practices. Eventually, Alessandro sought help and went to rehab and therapy to address his issues with Fio's support and encouragement. After graduation, Fio was awarded multiple awards and scholarships, which enabled her to attend university. There, she pursued an interdisciplinary course of study, exploring chiropractics, acupuncture, physics, and astronomy.

Fio would eventually express her interest in joining the military after coming across a persuasive flyer to serve in the Regular Army. This revelation horrified Alessandro, as he didn't want to send his only child off to the battlefield, risking her life. He wanted to disregard the Germi's military traditions, believing that war is repugnant and a never-ending cycle of hate and violence. Alessandro tried to deter Fio from joining, but she persisted, driven by her desire to join the fight against terrorism and protect the lives of innocent people. He reluctantly agreed and sent her off to the military at the age of 19, but attempted to minimise her risk by using his connections and friends from his own military days to secure her a desk job, hoping to keep her out of harm's way and away from the front lines.

However, everything changed when a paperwork mistake caused by militant bureaucracy resulted in Fio's transfer to the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., a special operations branch of the Regular Army's Intelligence Agency known for carrying out high-risk missions. Surprisingly, Fio was ecstatic to hear the news as she had been eager to be deployed on the battlefield and make a real difference. In contrast, her father was furious and stormed into military headquarters, threatening officers in an attempt to prevent his daughter from being shipped to the front lines.

He would often try to extract Fio from the battlefield via a private jet, but she consistently resisted. Eventually, she had enough of his overprotectiveness and bravely told him that this was what she wanted—to fight on the battlefield and provide medical aid. She assured him that she was capable of handling herself. Alessandro finally understood and let her pursue her life as a military woman. In return, she promised to keep in touch with him after each mission, providing him with reassurance and comfort.

Like Eri, she played a crucial role in the Great Morden War by providing Marco's team with useful intel on Rebel Army positions. She even went so far as to provide them with sustenance, mainly in the form of homemade sandwiches. She also dedicated herself to providing medical support for Marco's team, which led to her being recognized as the lead medical technician of the Regular Army’s special forces.

During the Extraterrestrial Alliance Clash in Hong Kong, she was seized by a ruthless group of fanatic land troops and bikers who intended to exploit her for their twisted desires. One of the deranged fanatic land troops subjected her to unwanted physical contact, leaving her severely traumatised and more prone to anxiety. This horrific experience intensified her resentment towards the Rebel Army and those who seek to spread chaos and harm. Fortunately, Tarma intervened just in time, eliminating the Rebel Infantrymen with the SV-001. Eri quickly freed her from the ropes that bound her arms and ankles.

Her countless battles against worldwide criminality, terrorism, and corruption enabled her to rapidly rise through the ranks, becoming the Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit. However, her time in the military has taught her a harsh reality: even the good guys can't always protect the innocent or save their friends and comrades. She has witnessed many deaths and severe injuries that left people crippled and traumatised in each battle. Nevertheless, with the emotional support of friends like Eri and Tarma, she has persevered and continues fighting to this day.

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haggishlyhagging · 11 months ago

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It would take Diane Joyce nearly ten years of battles to become the first female skilled crafts worker ever in Santa Clara County history. It would take another seven years of court litigation, pursued all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, before she could actually start work. And then, the real fight would begin.

For blue-collar women, there was no honeymoon period on the job; the backlash began the first day they reported to work—and only intensified as the Reagan economy put more than a million blue-collar men out of work, reduced wages, and spread mounting fear. While the white-collar world seemed capable of absorbing countless lawyers and bankers in the 80s, the trades and crafts had no room for expansion. "Women are far more economically threatening in blue-collar work, because there are a finite number of jobs from which to choose," Mary Ellen Boyd, executive director of Non-Traditional Employment for Women, observes. "An MBA can do anything. But a plumber is only a plumber." While women never represented more than a few percentage points of the blue-collar work force, in this powder-keg situation it only took a few female faces to trigger a violent explosion.

Diane Joyce arrived in California in 1970, a thirty-three-year-old widow with four children, born and raised in Chicago. Her father was a tool-and-die maker, her mother a returned-goods clerk at a Walgreen's warehouse. At eighteen, she married Donald Joyce, a tool-and-die maker's apprentice at her father's plant. Fifteen years later, after working knee-deep in PCBs for years, he died suddenly of a rare form of liver cancer.

After her husband's death, Joyce taught herself to drive, packed her children in a 1966 Chrysler station wagon and headed west to San Jose, California, where a lone relative lived. Joyce was an experienced bookkeeper and she soon found work as a clerk in the county Office of Education, at $506 a month. A year later, she heard that the county's transportation department had a senior account clerk job vacant that paid $50 more a month. She applied in March 1972.

"You know, we wanted a man," the interviewer told her as soon as she walked through the door. But the account clerk jobs had all taken a pay cut recently, and sixteen women and no men had applied for the job. So he sent her on to the second interview. "This guy was a little politer," Joyce recalls. "First, he said, 'Nice day, isn't it?' before he tells me, 'You know, we wanted a man.' I wanted to say, 'Yeah, and where's my man? I am the man in my house.' But I'm sitting there with four kids to feed and all I can see is dollar signs, so I kept my mouth shut."

She got the job. Three months later, Joyce saw a posting for a "road maintenance man." An eighth-grade education and one year's work experience was all that was required, and the pay was $723 a month. Her current job required a high-school education, bookkeeping skills, and four years' experience— and paid $150 less a month. "I saw that flier and I said, ‘Oh wow, I can do that.’ Everyone in the office laughed. They thought it was a riot. . . . I let it drop."

But later that same year, every county worker got a 2 to 5 percent raise except for the 70 female account clerks. "Oh now, what do you girls need a raise for?" the director of personnel told Joyce and some other women who went before the board of supervisors to object. "All you'd do is spend the money on trips to Europe." Joyce was shocked. "Every account clerk I knew was supporting a family through death or divorce. I'd never seen Mexico, let alone Europe." Joyce decided to apply for the next better-paying "male" job that opened. In the meantime, she became active in the union; a skillful writer and one of the best-educated representatives there, Joyce wound up composing the safety language in the master contract and negotiating what became the most powerful county agreement protecting seniority rights.

In 1974, a road dispatcher retired, and both Joyce and a man named Paul Johnson, a former oil-fields roustabout, applied for the post. The supervisors told Joyce she needed to work on the road crew first and handed back her application. Johnson didn't have any road crew experience either, but his application was accepted. In the end, the job went to another man.

Joyce set out to get road crew experience. As she was filling out her application for the next road crew job that opened, in 1975, her supervisor walked in, asked what she was doing, and turned red. "You're taking a man's job away!" he shouted. Joyce sat silently for a minute, thinking. Then she said, "No, I'm not. Because a man can sit right here where I'm sitting."

In the evenings, she took courses in road maintenance and truck and light equipment operation. She came in third out of 87 applicants on the job test; there were ten openings on the road crew, and she got one of them.

For the next four years, Joyce carried tar pots on her shoulder, pulled trash from the median strip, and maneuvered trucks up the mountains to clear mud slides. "Working outdoors was great," she says. "You know, women pay fifty dollars a month to join a health club, and here I was getting paid to get in shape." The road men didn't exactly welcome her arrival. When they trained her to drive the bobtail trucks, she says, they kept changing instructions; one gave her driving tips that nearly blew up the engine. Her supervisor wouldn't issue her a pair of coveralls; she had to file a formal grievance to get them. In the yard, the men kept the ladies' room locked, and on the road they wouldn't stop to let her use the bathroom. "You wanted a man's job, you learn to pee like a man," her supervisor told her.

Obscene graffiti about Joyce appeared on the sides of trucks. Men threw darts at union notices she posted on the bulletin board. One day, the stockroom storekeeper, Tony Laramie, who says later he liked to call her "the piglet," called a general meeting in the depot's Ready Room. "I hate the day you came here," Laramie started screaming at Joyce as the other men looked on, many nodding. "We don't want you here. You don't belong here. Why don't you go the hell away?"

Joyce's experience was typical of the forthright and often violent backlash within the blue-collar work force, an assault undisguised by decorous homages to women's "difference." At a construction site in New York, for example, where only a few female hard-hats had found work, the men took a woman's work boots and hacked them into bits. Another woman was injured by a male co-worker; he hit her on the head with a two-by-four. In Santa Clara County, where Joyce worked, the county's equal opportunity office files were stuffed with reports of ostracism, hazing, sexual harassment, threats, verbal and physical abuse. "It's pervasive in some of the shops," says John Longabaugh, the county's equal employment officer at the time. "They mess up their tools, leave pornography on their desks. Safety equipment is made difficult to get, or unavailable." A maintenance worker greeted the first woman in his department with these words: "I know someone who would break your arm or leg for a price." Another new woman was ordered to clean a transit bus by her supervisor—only to find when she climbed aboard that the men had left a little gift for her: feces smeared across the seats.

In 1980, another dispatcher job opened up. Joyce and Johnson both applied. They both got similarly high scores on the written exam. Joyce now had four years' experience on the road crew; Paul Johnson only had a year and a half. The three interviewers, one of whom later referred to Joyce in court as "rabble-rousing" and "not a lady," gave the job to Johnson. Joyce decided to complain to the county athrmative action office.

The decision fell to James Graebner, the new director of the transportation department, an engineer who believed that it was about time the county hired its first woman for its 238 skilled-crafts jobs. Graebner confronted the roads director, Ron Shields. "What's wrong with the woman?" Graebner asked. “I hate her," Shields said, according to other people in the room. "I just said I thought Johnson was more qualified," is how Shields remembers it. "She didn't have the proficiency with heavy equipment." Neither, of course, did Johnson. Not that it was relevant anyway: dispatch is an office job that doesn't require lifting anything heavier than a microphone.

Graebner told Shields he was being overruled; Joyce had the job. Later that day, Joyce recalls, her supervisor called her into the conference room. "Well, you got the job," he told her. "But you're not qualified." Johnson, meanwhile, sat by the phone, dialing up the chain of command. "I felt like tearing something up," he recalls later. He demanded a meeting with the affirmative action office. "The affirmative action man walks in," Johnson says, "and he's this big black guy. He can't tell me anything. He brings in this minority who can barely speak English . . . I told them, 'You haven't heard the last of me.'" Within days, he had hired a lawyer and set his reverse discrimination suit in motion, contending that the county had given the job to a "less qualified" woman.

In 1987, the Supreme Court ruled against Johnson. The decision was hailed by women's and civil rights groups. But victory in Washington was not the same as triumph in the transportation yard. For Joyce and the road men, the backlash was just warming up. "Something like this is going to hurt me one day," Gerald Pourroy, a foreman in Joyce's office, says of the court's ruling, his voice low and bitter. He stares at the concrete wall above his desk. "I look down the tracks and I see the train coming toward me."

The day after the Supreme Court decision, a woman in the county office sent Joyce a congratulatory bouquet, two dozen carnations. Joyce arranged the flowers in a vase on her desk. The next day they were gone. She found them finally, crushed in a garbage bin. A road foreman told her, "I drop-kicked them across the yard."

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

#susan faludi #female oppression #male entitlement #male violence #blue collar #women’s work #pay gap #sexism #misogyny #womens history #us history #amerika

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hhoneyribbons · 2 years ago

Text

Eye contact :: ledgerjoker! X female reader

WARNING :::

SMUT AHEAD!!!!

A/N : I’ve not written in such a long time and i finally found the time to , so i hope you enjoy and this is rather messy and its my first smut so i hope you like eek okay please enjoy luv ya !!!

summary : joker had been so busy witch causing chaos in Gotham city so much that you and him haven't seen each other in almost two months,one night you come home from working only to see Ur porch light on and things take a turn for the best....

word count :: 1,545

it's been two months since you've seen...touched and been with your madman, of course, you were more than worried... but you thought of yourself as crazy to be worried because the man lives for chaos ...but you still missed him and would bundle yourself up in one of his shirts and a blanket that smelt of him... the intense yet calming smell of grease paint and gun powder with a hint of liquor ...

your shift ended 5 minutes ago you pull your white coat on over ur black dress and pack up ur purse walking out to your car getting in and driving off home you turn on the car radio listing to a cd joker made for you, you looked at the dark night sky and feel a lump in ur throat thinking to yourself... " no no y/n don't cry he's okay, and just busy" you shake your head getting rid of the bad thoughts and continue to drive home

20 minutes later

you get out of the car your cheeks turning pink from the cold November air as the wind blows hard you walk up the many steps to your apartment and your heart beats as you see the porch light on worrying if you left it on... you felt more than paranoid. you grab your keys from your purse to open the door but as soon as you put ur hand on it,

it slowly creaks open... 'what the...' you said to yourself and slowly step into the apartment walking down the hallway you stop in your tracks as you step into the living room...

His eyes watch you stop as if you were frozen in time. his face bare with vulnerability no war paint to cover his exhaustion his body slouched in your loveseat chair his dirty blonde hair pushed back as he wears only a black dress shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned. your eyes never left his you were too much in shock that you were actually seeing him …

it's like he was playing a wicked game with your mind ... his slightly tan skin that you only would ever dream to see and touch. his red lips that would hold a proud mischievous grin now dark pink lips that were scarred.

your breath became uneven as you gently drop your bags next to your feet and slowly walked to him plopping down into his lap and pulling him into a tight hug almost whimpering out as his warmth surrounded your cold body 'j...it's really you, you softly spoke to him as his head came up and stroked the back of your head gently

he licked his dark pink lips licking over his scars and lets out a deep breath as if he's been holding it

'mm hi doll...' he said in a deeper voice instead of his normal clowny voice

your heart was racing miles as you held onto him tightly gripping his shirt as tight as you could

he hummed out enjoying your hold " it's been a while J I've missed you...so much " you said moving back to look up at his dark brown almost black eyes you both stayed in silence looking into each other's eyes trying to read each thought and emotion in one another ... the air slowly became heavier making it almost hard to breathe as then ur eyes slowly found jokers lip

"mmhh~ I've missed you too baby doll.. m' just been so busy " he spoke out to you and bit his lip as his eyes wandered over you " maybe too busy..mm? " he asked in question

you hummed in response as joker moved his hand to your knee rubbing up it slowly with his warm rough hand on your soft skin your body shivered as his hands moved up your dress rubbing your thigh and ass lovingly but his grip told otherwise his grip was tight making your body tremble in all the right ways, your eyes shut as you spoke breathlessly

" y-your so wicked Joker..mm " you whimpered out he slightly dug his nails into ur thigh he grinned

" you as well baby-mm"

your eyes open as your hands move with a mind of their own your thumb finds his scared cheek rubbing over it his body tenses as he moves back slightly he released out a deep growl eyes flickering shut almost warning you..daring you to continue, " you're so beautiful " your eyes water as your mouth speaks your thoughts. without much thought, you sniffled as tears fell and leaned in kissimg him deeply

he responds back to the kiss faster than lighting, his hand gripping your neck and snarling into your mouth as his tongue pushes through your lips and you both fall into a messy makeout hands pulling clothes off his shirt on the floor as your dress and jacket is thrown somewhere in the living room.

your lips leaving one another as joker moves his kisses down to your neck " J-J ahh~nmm" you panted out as he sucked bruises onto ur neck your hips slowly grind against his he growled out his hands hitting on your ass as you jump with a squeal he moved his lips from your neck looking at you

" naughty naughty girl..mm" he looked at you darkly as his hands rubbed up your waist slowly moving to ur bra strap you sucked in a breathe nervously as the bra was moved from your body you nipples stood hard at the cold air no matter your shyness joker kept eye contact with you grinning as your blushed face

his hands moved to your breast cupping them up into his warm hands " so pretty doll-mm my pretty babydoll " joker dirty talked as he started to bounce his knee against your pussy you gasped out holding onto his thigh and whimpering

" p-pleasemm.. please" you pleaded to him with soft doe eyes biting your lip he chuckled darkly at your pleading and licked over you hard nipple sucking on it grazing it with his teeth growling out you huffed in pleasure and you pulled at his dress pants " please.. please d-daddy I need you so bad mm joker" you whined out

he smirked around your boob pulling off your nipple with a flick of his tongue" mm you sure know how to get a guy going doll~" he huffed out his breathing became uneven as well you lifted up off him to let him pull down his pants with his boxers your eyes winded at his cock.

his cock was hard and glistening with pre-cum your cold hand slowly moved to his cock grabbing as he hissed out clenching his jaw as you stroked his cock gently biting your lips joker watch you and pulled your pantie band making it snap against your skin you giggled as his patience was running out and lifted up once aging pulling your panties off.

you slowly sat back down into the joker's lap, the joker grunt " ohh come to daddy mm~ how I've missed you" his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in rough but slow circles you blushed and grinded against his hand whimpering as he moved it away

only to rub his tip against your entrance slowly pushing his tip in you dug your nails into his arm throwing your head back as he pushes his cock in all the way into ur wet throbbing pussy " o-oh fuck j mm feels so good in ahh ~" you moaned out rolling your hips

he held a grip of your ass in his hands grunting out and slapping your ass " mm ride my cock baby uhh.. be my good slut" he growled out as you started to bounce on his cock you moaned loudly arching your back and making your chest hit into his face as you rode his cock harder gripping onto his hair slightly and tugging it which led to the joker letting out an animalistic growl his hands gripped ur ass making you go faster on his cock and forcing his cock deeper hitting against your g-spot making you feel close to the edge

you screamed out trembling as the joker bruised and teased ur nipples while his hips kept thrusting up into you " c-cumming mm I'm gonna cum please fuckk-mm" your head became hazy wanting to feel the pleasure of your climax

joker groaned out almost being able to hear small whimpers from him " mm ughh cum doll agh fuck cum on my cock baby f-fuck ah y/n mm cum with me"

your eyes rolled back as Joker's nail clawed down into ur thighs as you scratched marks into his you both cumming on and in each other with moans and groans. you fall limp into jokers lap your hips and his never stopped moving but slowed down

and you laid your head on jokers chest listing to his heart " mmm i would have come home earlier if I knew id get a treat"

you giggled at jokers words and looked at him " oh only want in for the sex hm? player" he grinned " well it is a plus " you playfully smacked at his chest which landed you a small spank from the joker as you both smiled at each other and kissed together again...

the end...

#heath ledger #the dark knight #bts: the dark knight #heath joker #tdk joker #heath ledger imagines #ledger joker #heath ledger x reader #ledger joker imagines #ledger!joker fanfic #ledger joker x reader #joker smut

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starry-nights-garden · 1 year ago

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Keeho ✧ Pay Off

✧ P1Harmony Keeho x fem!reader ✧ words: ~5.4k ✧ genre: fluff, slow burn ✧ warnings: (mentions of reader visibly blushing)

Desc.: The number one rule when working with idols is not to fall in love with them. Unfortunately you woke up one day and had to realize that your feelings for Keeho are very much real, and so now you’re trying to figure out how to best deal with them.

“Everyone, get ready! You’re up on stage in 5 minutes!” you hear the urging words of the boys’ manager. In the corner of your eyes you see the rest of the staff swarm around them, and you too have no time to lose. With a brush and a makeup palette you get up from where you’ve been resting just now, and as you repress a yawn you approach the idol nearest to you. You examine Jongseob’s face, trying to make out any spots that need some touching up and eventually find none. Your eyes lock for a moment as he’s busy fixing his headset, and he shoots you a thankful smile, to which you nod, signalling him that his makeup looks perfect as it is. Then you move on to the next person. You find the leader amid the sudden fuss in the waiting room - a phenomenon you’re used to by now. Nobody knows the exact time when each group or artist has to be up on stage to either pre-record or to perform live, but you usually know the approximate schedule, so around these times everyone’s on standby to assure a smooth procedure.

“Does it look okay?” Keeho is talkative as always, and in response you lift the makeup brush up to his face, applying some more of the powder that matches his skin tone next to his nose. You can sense he isn’t nervous anymore during promotions, like he used to be just after his debut.

“It does now,” you answer and smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping onto your cheeks, before you’re split up. Your colleagues must’ve finished fixing everyone else’s hair and makeup, and with a somewhat heavy heart you watch the boys and some staff members walk out of the room. You sink back into one of the chairs in front of the big mirrors and you let out a sigh, trying to calm your beating heart. As you’re putting aside the makeup and brush, one of the other girls approaches you.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” the hair stylist asks, worry apparent on her face.

“I’m fine… just a bit tired,” you answer, and that technically isn’t a lie.

“You seem distracted these days…” she replies.

“I’m okay. I could just use a nap, that’s all.” It’s the end of the third week of promotions - by this time everyone usually starts getting tired. After all it’s not just the idols who are forced to get up at ungodly hours for music shows or other appearances. Their staff follows them through every step of the procedure, so you too have to be up around 2am lately. At least I don’t have to stay up for practice and can get to bed at a normal hour… I should try that today, you think to yourself. But sleep doesn’t come easy these days. Your mind is too packed with the guy who occupies your every thought every free second of the day, and your heart is too heavy because you know you cannot have him. There’s this unwritten rule among especially the young stylists: Don’t fall for the idols you work with. You knew it only brings trouble, so you tried really hard to see them as nothing but colleagues. And that works just fine with all of them but one, because somehow your heart didn’t get the message when it comes to Keeho, and you ended up catching feelings for him.

You’ve tried telling yourself it’s just a crush because he’s handsome, you’ve tried telling yourself it will go away if you keep your distance, tried telling yourself you’ll be fine if you talk a little more to him and find out he actually isn’t as great as you think he is. And yet here you are, feeling yourself falling for him just a little more with every minute you spend with him and every new side of his that you get to know, rendered unable to escape that pink bubble of infatuation.

The stage is over, the guys are making their way back. Sweat covers their foreheads and drips down their necks, and they’re followed by staff handing them towels while the boys are trying to cool off a little with the help of their mini-fans.

“You did well, everyone,” you hear Keeho shout into the room with a radiant smile, and for a moment he flashes his teeth at you too. That gesture alone is enough to melt your heart, and while you’re slowly dying inside, you do your best to remain stoic on the outside. Some of the guys clap, meanwhile Taeyang lets his body retreat onto the nearest couch and Intak is still too busy regaining his breath after giving it his all on stage. You take a moment to muster each of the boys, and still the only one who makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild remains him. They’re all handsome and they’re all nice people, so why does one of them have to affect you so differently than the rest?

“That’s stupid.” It’s the evening of the same day. Your body is telling you to go to sleep already, get the rest you so desperately need, meanwhile your mind is racing. “That’s a really stupid idea,” you repeat, while glaring at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You were peacefully washing your face just a minute ago, when suddenly a memory hit you right when you needed it the least. It was back when the boys, their manager, and all the staff had their celebration dinner at the end of their very first promotion period. You remember it had been a little awkward, because on one hand you were pushing the curfew of the youngest members quite a bit, and on the other hand there were the legal adults who didn’t want to get drunk “in front of the kids” but couldn’t keep their fingers off the alcohol completely either. So there were the very happy maknaes who could stay out longer than usual, the tipsy elders who at some point secluded themselves a tad from the rest of the group, and then there were the ones in between - Taeyang, Jiung, Keeho, a hair stylist and you. Not that you weren’t enjoying yourselves, and the food tasted delicious, but being stuck in the middle was never a thing you were good at handling. That night it was Keeho who took the initiative and, like a true leader, did everything he could not to let the atmosphere become awkward. You started chatting more casually, and maybe that was the moment you started falling for him without realizing. You remember running outside along with the younger boys as the adults started gradually turning the night into their own drinking party, and you found a playground nearby which you decided to occupy for yourselves. You can’t normally see the stars from the city, as its lights are too bright, and so the night sky is usually a slightly illuminated shade of black, but just for the heck of it you pretended to be stargazing anyway as you were sitting on that swing that very night.

“Thinking of someone?” As Keeho’s voice reached your ears, you turned to face him, startled. You thought you could sneak away for a few minutes by yourself after having been social all evening, but even out here someone was ready to talk to you. And of course it had to be him. You didn’t know how to react at first, because his assumption was very much off. You were thinking about the comfort of your own home if anything, and you didn’t want to appear rude by denying his guess. So you merely shrugged. A knowing smile spread on his lips and you felt a little sorry for deceiving him.

“You should tell them,” he suddenly said and you raised your eyebrows at him. “If there’s someone you’re thinking of… then you must like that person, right? You should tell them,” he added. “In one way or the other, it will pay off for sure.”

“No, I…” You opened your mouth to say something back and to correct his confusion, but when you saw him realizing he made a wrong assumption by himself, and his ears were growing beet red in the process all you could think of doing was to apologize.

“No, I shouldn’t have assumed things!” he immediately retorted. “I’m sorry, I thought I was being helpful… maybe they put some soju in my drink without me noticing?” He laughed. He tried to brush it off with a bad joke, still his embarrassment was apparent. And somehow you found that image that was unfolding right in front of your eyes weirdly charming. So you gave him a soft smile.

“It’s good advice though,” you said, hoping to calm him down a bit with your words. “I’ll remember that if… once I have someone I like.”

“I really shouldn’t,” your reflection is scolding you. “I can’t. You can’t tell him. This is something different. Don’t even consider it.” You point at yourself like a strict teacher or your mother would, and then you finish washing your face and you go to bed. You switch off the lights in your studio apartment, and close your eyes. Still you feel wide awake, contemplating whether to follow Keeho’s advice or not. Back when he said those words to you you didn’t think much of it. Who thought it would come bite you in the ass now? “Ugh, I need to sleep, not think about this…” you tell yourself and you grab the ends of your pillow to squish your face in between the soft material. Still, sleep does not come easy tonight, just like the many nights before.

It’s a new day, and once again you curse your alarm for waking you up in the middle of the night. You grab a coffee first thing after getting up and combined with a cold shower right afterwards you hope to be as ready for the day as you can be. You arrive at the broadcasting station just on time to find the right waiting room and to prepare all your makeup, hoping that today would finally be the day that your feelings for Keeho came to cease. Your hopes are in vain though, or so you must realize once the boys start coming into the room one by one, and a sleepy leader sinks down onto the chair right in front of you. As you look around and the others are also finding their seats, it slowly begins to dawn on you that the situation you’ve been fearing for so long has finally arrived: it’s your turn to do Keeho’s full makeup today, and with the onsetting realization also comes the unstoppable picking up pace of your heartbeat, which is soon racing. I can do this, you tell yourself, apparently just in time for Keeho to notice your distress.

“You look like you had a rough night,” he remarks, trying to put a certain understanding behind the words. You can tell he hasn’t warmed up yet, as his voice still sounds a bit raspy, the tone not as controlled as usual. Because of you, you respond in thought, but choose a more acceptable answer to say out loud.

“It’s okay,” you retort and follow up with a chuckle. “I’m not as tired as you look.” Keeho lets out a rather unenergetic laugh.

“I will trust you to make me look more awake then,” he mumbles and closes his heavy eyelids. The motion lets you breathe a bit more easily. With him taking a nap while you do his makeup, at least he won’t be watching you all the way through. You try to focus only on your work in order to regain your composure, and after applying the first layers of makeup you feel like you can finally concentrate, correct any small errors you’ve made thus far, and move on.

“I can’t believe someone with such a face exists…” you mutter to yourself, caught in awe over the beauty of his features. The waiting room is getting noisy as most of the boys are finally waking up a bit, so you don’t think anyone would’ve heard you, but as soon as you see the grin that forms on Keeho’s lips you know you're wrong. You panic for a second, but he just retorts a casual “Thank you.”

“You heard that…” You talk quietly, and you stop in your tracks for a second when he opens those sharp eyes, while you’re in the middle of making them appear even sharper.

“I can’t sleep with the kids screaming in the background,” he explains just when an excited Jiung yells through the whole room, followed by a loud laugh.

“They aren’t even that much younger than you…” you try to start a conversation, mostly to distract yourself from your own overwhelming feelings.

“It doesn’t matter. They’re still my kids,” Keeho says before laughing somewhat shyly. “I sound like a middle-aged dad.” He lifts his hand to hide his mouth for a moment, but upon realizing he shouldn’t cover his face while someone is working on it, he puts it back down and fidgets with the sleeve of his shirt instead. “But we’re more than a team. We’re family. And I’m the leader, so they’re the kids.”

“You take good care of them, huh?” you remark, feeling touched by his words and by how strong the bond between the boys must really be.

“I guess so… I’m doing my best. But even the best parents make mistakes,” he adds that last sentence in a lighter tone, probably to try and loosen up the conversation a bit, while you carefully lay the base for his eye makeup. He lets you work for a while, remaining silent, so that at least his words won’t distract you further, and once you reach the finishing touches, he speaks up again.

“Say… I thought about getting a drink from the vending machine downstairs,” he starts, and as you can guess where he’s going your heart is starting to pound again. You reach for the lip brush quickly, and he takes it as a sign to be silent for another minute or two. You’re not sure if it’s the way you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how soft and puffy his lips really are as you apply makeup on them, or if it’s the way Keeho’s half-lidded eyes are watching you closely as you’re doing so, but you feel your cheeks heat up and you come to the painful conclusion that the blush on your face must be visible to him now. You would’ve wanted to just run right out of there and hide forever, still you know you have no other choice but to play it off and to keep doing your work. After all, he isn’t the only person in here who wants to get his makeup done by you.

“I think that’s it,” you say and take a step back to get a proper look at his face. You did a decent job, and you know the last touch-ups will have to be done immediately before the boys go up on stage anyway, so you decide to leave it the way it is.

“So about the drink…” Keeho tries to bring it up again. However, because you know you currently shouldn’t allow yourself a break, but also because the thought of being all alone with him makes you more nervous than anything, you turn around and shout across the room,

“I’m free for the next person to get their makeup done!” You watch as Shota puts away his phone and gets up, and you shoot Keeho an apologetic look.

“Right, you have to finish here first,” he mumbles, and then makes way for the younger boy to take his seat.

You do your best to avoid him after that. The fear of being alone with just Keeho and risking to reveal more of your feelings haunts you, and it makes you shameless enough to double check each of the boys’ makeup - minus Keeho himself of course - and to make Jiung sit through a touch-up that you drag out for longer than it has to be. You’re scared you picked the wrong victim, because Jiung is the type to question such actions, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. He probably reckons that you know better than him when it comes to makeup, and so if you say something needs fixing, then it most likely does - or so you hope. Plus, he was the only one around when you felt Keeho’s gaze resting on your figure, and he was already approaching you from the other side of the waiting room, so you just had to do what you had to do in order to escape him.

Pre-recording ends, as well as the interview that the boys had after that, and the first sigh of relief you dare to let out is only once they are starting to change from their stage outfits into their casual clothes again. It is the early afternoon when the schedule for the day ends, and it’s time to go back to the company or home. As you’re cleaning up your stuff, you fail to realize that Keeho is once again approaching you until it’s too late, but thankfully Taeyang stops him by the shoulder and tears his attention away from you.

“I think I’ll do a live when I’m back at the company. Wanna join me?” you can hear the eldest of the guys ask a question. Seizing the moment, you quickly finish up and then wish everyone in the room a nice remaining day, before slipping through the door of the waiting room and making a run for it.

“I think I can’t today…” You faintly hear Keeho’s voice in the distance as you make your way down the corridor with fast steps. You feel like he could follow you and appear behind you at any given moment, so you don’t slow down until you’ve reached the main entrance, and you’re standing on the small plaza in front of the huge broadcasting house.

Finally, you feel like you can breathe again. You stand there for a good five minutes, catching your breath and as the air fills your lungs, the butterflies in your stomach seem to finally settle down for the first time in over ten hours. As you feel the tension leaving your body you realize how on edge you’ve been the whole day, and when you put your hand on your chest you feel your heartbeat slowly calming down.

“That was horrible…” you whisper to yourself and you let out a big sigh. And then, just when you’re about to set one foot in front of the other to start your journey back home, someone calls out your name from behind and you feel like you’re running face first into a wall of concrete.

“Y/N, wait!” As soon as his call enters your ears you know you can’t escape here. And so you stay there, frozen, and in shock you wait for him to appear in your field of vision. He’s out of breath, and you notice a tiny smudge on his makeup under his left eye, which you don’t think anyone else would’ve realized was even there. You expect him to finally ask you about getting a drink together, but instead he furrows his eyebrows, frowning at you. “Are you avoiding me?”

“Uh.” The sound escapes your mouth against your will. You didn’t think he’d be this straightforward. “No?” You lie to his face, and to give your words some more credibility you add, “Why would I do such a thing?”

“It feels like you do.”

“Don’t be silly,” you try to play it off with a laugh.

“Then let’s go get that drink now.” You’re speechless again.

“Uhm… I…” You stammer, and you start to fidget with one of the zips on your bag. “I’m… busy today actually…” You feel your face heating up because of the white lie, and he too must sense that you’re being untruthful, as the frown on his face is getting deeper now.

“You… I thought you liked me…” he says, and again you feel panic arise within you. Does he mean as a friend? Or does he know…? However, he shakes his head. “Nevermind. I’m sorry for bothering you then…” He seems sad. You can sense his disappointment about the rejection, and upon seeing him like this, his words from that one night resound in your ears. “Then I hope you have a good day and-”

“Actually,” you cut him off, “I have to tell you something. But not here.” Keeho is the surprised one now, and reminding yourself that he is still an idol and you two are still in public, you stop yourself from grabbing him by the hand and dragging him with you. “Let’s go have a drink. But I know a better place than the broadcasting station,” you say, and with a gesture of your hand you make him follow you. You lead him across the street and down another road, where there aren’t as many people around, and eventually you reach an old arcade that people barely visit these days, especially not in the middle of the day.

“This place looks shady…” he remarks when you’re about to enter the rundown building. You can’t say you don’t understand his worries, but you’ve known this place for years, and just because it doesn’t have many customers doesn’t mean it’s dangerous.

“We won’t be bothered here,” you explain. “You are an idol after all and being seen with a girl could get you in trouble. Even when she’s your makeup artist.” You don’t dare to look him in the eyes while speaking those words, afraid he might read too much into it and connect the dots all by himself.

“Alright… well if it’s a place you know then I trust you,” Keeho says, but his voice reveals that he’s still wary. Still, he reluctantly follows you down to the first ground floor, past a hall with all kinds of arcade games and eventually you reach a row of huge vending machines that offer all kinds of drinks and snacks one could wish for.

“See?” You point out the sheer variety of offered wares, “This is better than at the station, isn’t it?” And Keeho too finally relaxes, because now all he can do is gape and let his eyes wander the colorful samples and the relatively low prices.

“You were right!” he exclaims. “So what do you want? It’s on me.” You hesitate for a moment. What you’re about to do is stupid, and you know that, but you’ve set your mind to it. Plus, you know you will feel lighter once you’ve spelled out the truth for him, and who knows? Maybe it will help you finally forget about your feelings for him.

“Actually, Keeho,” you say, and within a split second you have his full attention. Your heart starts racing as you lock eyes with him, giving you a hard time organizing your thoughts, but there’s no turning back anymore now. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“W-what is it?” He stutters and lets out an awkward laugh. You guess he might feel uncomfortable with how the air around you suddenly turned so serious.

“I… I like you.”

There. You finally said it. It’s out. It’s out now, and you know you should feel relieved, but why is it that you can feel your heart pounding even harder now and you can practically hear the blood rushing through your veins as he stands there in front of you, dumbfounded and speechless. He opens his mouth to say something, but when nothing comes out he closes it again, and never does he avert his eyes from you during the whole process - his eyes, that are now widened and full of surprise and a little bit of disbelief.

“Oh,” he finally says. Oh, you repeat in your mind, as if that response would tell you anything other than that he did not see your confession coming. And the longer he doesn’t react to it, the heavier your shoulders start to feel and the more you want to run away and make your words unsaid. So you know you have to act soon. And eventually you start talking and somehow end up rambling, half trying to make it seem like it wasn’t that serious, half laying out the perfect opportunity for him to just reject you and move on.

“I mean… I know it’s stupid. You’re an idol after all, and a rookie too, you can’t afford to date. Not that I’m assuming you might want to date me! I mean… haha… what was I even thinking? I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. It got awkward because of me and now-” You had your eyes averted the whole while that you were talking, so you failed to catch his reactions to your words, and you somehow managed to completely miss the fact that he was slowly leaning in, until your lips were already in contact with his. His lips, that you could barely tear your gaze away from as you were brushing makeup onto them just this morning. His lips, that you were subconsciously wondering how they would feel against yours, and now you suddenly know, and it’s better than anything you could’ve ever imagined. His touch is soft against your mouth, but certain. He’s doing this because he wants to, that’s what you can unmistakably feel from the way he captures your lips between his, pressing a kiss that lingers against them, even when he pulls away far too soon. You share eye contact for but a moment, before a realization hits you.

“Are you stupid?!” you yell at him suddenly, and you add, hissing, “We’re in public, what if someone sees us?!” Shock is written all over his face, and both of you look around thoroughly. Only when you’re sure that there really is nobody else around, you two let out the breath you’ve been holding. Keeho turns back to you and he leans in again, but you shake your head at him strongly.

“We’re alone,” he insists.

“This is still a public space. We might not be for long,” you retort, but somehow not even your sharp words are enough to make the sudden hunger in his eyes go away. He bites his lower lip while his gaze is still glued to your mouth.

“Then…” he eventually says, keeping his voice low. “Since you know this place… take us somewhere nobody will see.”

If you were in your right mind in that very moment his request would’ve seemed ridiculous to you, but with the way he’s looking at you and the way you can’t silence your own longing to feel his lips on yours again, you begin to search the whole place in your mind. You’ve been here countless of times, you should know every single corner, every little niche and every hiding place in this building, and really, after only a few seconds of rummaging through your memory, you’ve found the ideal spot. It might not be 100% safe, but the possibility of being caught should be low enough. So you do what you couldn’t earlier, and you grab Keeho’s hand and pull the guy along with you, one story lower and into a maze of old game machines. You finally make it to a corner where, even when the arcade has many visitors, barely anyone ever stops by, as this place is being used as more of a storage room than anything else. And so, when you turn on your heels between some big dusty cardboard boxes, Keeho immediately takes a step forward to back you up against the wall, and with his thumb and index finger he lifts your chin to kiss you again, this time properly. You reach out, wanting to feel him closer to you, and you wrap your arms around his torso, placing your hands on his shoulder blades. His fingers leave your chin and now his palm cups your entire face, while his other hand rests on your hip, pulling you towards him. Your lips separate for but a moment, and with one gaze into the other’s eyes you simultaneously decide that this much wasn’t nearly enough for either of you, so you smash your lips right back together. For the first time ever you begin to enjoy the way he makes your heart race, and with every one of his touches he sends an electric impulse through your entire body, making your temperature rise. You rake your fingers into his hair, pull on his dyed locks, and in response you feel him capture your lower lip with his teeth, nibbling on it, releasing it, and then reconnecting your lips in the blink of an eye. You catch yourself wondering what kind of longing he too must’ve hidden away for so long that he kisses you like this now - fiery, demanding, and in a way that just makes you want him more with every passing second.

But it’s not like you don’t kiss him back with a similar passion, feeling like the fire sparked between you two will devour you whole if you don’t pour your everything into every single kiss, into every touch of your lips and every dance of your tongues. You know you’re running out of air, but you want to bear it a little longer, want to feel him kissing you just a bit deeper, and so you hold onto his back, your fingers buried in the fabric of his shirt, before you finally have to break the kiss. And so here you are, hidden away from the public eye, holding onto each other as if your lives depended on it. You’re both panting in one and the same rhythm, just like you have kissed each other as if you’d been doing nothing else your entire life, and his forehead is resting against yours. His slow thumb strokes on your cheek make your heartbeat slow down gradually, and when you look into his eyes now it’s like looking at the sea that’s calming after a storm. And as you’re both catching your breath, your minds still hazy from receiving each other’s kisses, a worry begins to grow in the pits of your stomach.

“So what are we gonna do now?” you ask. He seems to understand, and he lifts his other hand to cup your face with it as well.

“I’ll figure something out,” he says.

“You’re an idol… even if we want to, we can’t just date…” you reason. You know how busy his life is even without a girlfriend, plus you don’t want him to risk his career for you. However, Keeho leans in for another kiss. It is a sweet, feathery kiss now, one that is meant to put your mind at ease and for some inexplicable reason it works. It’s like his kisses put a spell on you, and they can make you feel whatever he wants you to feel in that moment.

“There will be a way, okay?” His tone is serious now, and when you discover that trustworthy look in his eyes you can suddenly see why he was chosen leader of his group. “We’ve made it up until here, so I believe we can make it anywhere.” He lets go of your face and his hands glide down to your arms, until he reaches your palms and eventually intertwines his fingers with yours. “We need to be careful. And it won’t always be easy. But we can make it. If we really want to, we can.” He gives your hands an encouraging squeeze, and you feel hope budding in your chest. And then suddenly, you cannot stop the way a broad smile makes its way to your lips.

“So you were right after all,” you say eventually. “That it will pay off.”

“What will…?” Keeho throws you a questioning look, seemingly unable to remember the conversation he had with you that night. You don’t hold it against him that he doesn’t recall, after all the words might not have been as important to him as they turned out to be for you.

“That if there’s a person you like, you should tell them,” you clarify, “and it will pay off for sure.”

#p1harmony oneshots #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony drabbles #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony fluff #p1h x reader #p1harmony x reader #p1h drabbles #p1harmony angst #angst #fluff #keeho x reader #keeho fluff #keeho imagines

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p1nball-c0la · 2 years ago

Note

i saw your post about the essay you wrote on the gayness in great gatsby, and im doing a similar thing. im wondering what parts you quoted because to me it’s more the vibe rather than any piece of text. thanks!

Happy to provide! I'm trying to not miss anything here, so my apologies for the ultra-long post. And trust me, this is a very long post. I went through all 137 pages. This is likely far more than you wanted or needed, so. Whoops on that front. But I digress. Without much further ado, textual evidence of The Great Gatsby's (mostly Nick's) queerness and where to find said evidence within the book!

The PDF I'm using, found through a single google search. The wonders of a lack of copyright!

Chapter 1

Nick, immediately asserting his Gatsby bias; "Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn." (5).

When describing Gatsby; “If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him.” (5).

Nick eyeing up Tom and also being a little afraid of him; "Now he was a sturdy straw-haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body — he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing, and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage — a cruel body" and "His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor..." (8).

Nick finding Jordan Baker, the most androgynous woman around, attractive (Which, while not inherently queer, as a mostly gay man I've found that masculine women and feminine men tend to be a hit with queer folks. Do with that what you will); "I enjoyed looking at her. She was a slender, smallbreasted girl, with an erect carriage, which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet." (11).

Chapter 2

Nick being kinda grossed out by Catharine; "The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty, with a solid, sticky bob of red hair, and a complexion powdered milky white. Her eye-brows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle, but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face." (25).

Nick's opinions on the McKee's (Take note of Mr. McKee's description-describing a man as "feminine" pretty much meant nothing but gay when Fitzgerald wrote it. Trust me, he would have known the connotations); "Mr. McKee was a pale, feminine man... there was a white spot of lather on his cheekbone, and he was most respectful in his greeting... His wife was shrill, languid, handsome, and horrible." (25).

Nick doing something that could be described as tender; "Mr. McKee was asleep on a chair with his fists clenched in his lap, like a photograph of a man of action. Taking out my handkerchief I wiped from his cheek the remains of the spot of dried lather that had worried me all the afternoon." (30).

I implore you, read the final few paragraphs of chapter two. Nick 100% sleeps with Mr. McKee. A taste of that; "… I was standing beside his bed and [Mr. McKee] was sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands." (31).

Chapter 3

Nick, upon receiving an invitation to Gatsby's party (The 2013 movie had Tobey Maguire stress that 'No one had ever been invited to Gatsby's' with the exception of him. Do with that what you will); "I had been actually invited. A chauffeur in a uniform of robin’s-egg blue crossed my lawn early that Saturday morning with a surprisingly formal note from his employer: the honor would be entirely Gatsby’s, it said, if I would attend his “little party.” that night. He had seen me several times, and had intended to call on me long before, but a peculiar combination of circumstances had prevented it — signed Jay Gatsby, in a majestic hand." (33-34).

A quick aside about the party and Gatsby symbolism; as my English teacher so fervently pointed out, Daisy wears white to symbolize purity/innocence/some other million dollar word. If we are to believe that Fitzgerald painstakingly planned out that symbolism, then this line about Nick's party attire, "[I was] dressed up in white flannels" (34) should have some significance to it, right?

Nick, unaware he is talking to Gatsby, immediately feels better upon talking to him; "It was on the tip of my tongue to ask his name when Jordan looked around and smiled. 'Having a gay time now?' she inquired. 'Much better.'" (38).

And of course, this gem—Nick, instantly smitten by Gatsby's smile; "He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced― or seemed to face― the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey." (39).

Nick being anxious and a little fixated on a shoulder touch from Gatsby, Gatsby practically planning a date out; "Rather ashamed that on my first appearance I had stayed so late, I joined the last of Gatsby’s guests, who were clustered around him. I wanted to explain that I’d hunted for him early in the evening and to apologize for not having known him in the garden. 'Don’t mention it,' he enjoined me eagerly. 'Don’t give it another thought, old sport.' The familiar expression held no more familiarity than the hand which reassuringly brushed my shoulder. 'And don’t forget we’re going up in the hydroplane to-morrow morning, at nine o’clock.'"

Nick, about Jordan, then very quickly saying something that very much sounds like the closeted experience when you're in an unaccepting environment; "I thought I loved her. But I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires..." (47).

Chapter 4

Gatsby, picking up Nick for what I will only call a 'Discreet meeting between two close male friends'; "Good morning, old sport. You’re having lunch with me today and I thought we’d ride up together." (50).

Nick, paying a strange amount of attention to Gatsby's stance, and describing it so... yeah; "He was balancing himself on the dashboard of his car with that resourcefulness of movement that is so peculiarly American — that comes, I suppose, with the absence of lifting work or rigid sitting in youth and, even more, with the formless grace of our nervous, sporadic games." (50).

Another interlude; According to my literal teachers, Gatsby's car is supposed to be a euphemism for his penis. I'd censor this, but hey, this book is about affairs. Anyways, this fact makes this sequence very funny to me; "He saw me looking with admiration at his car. 'It’s pretty, isn’t it, old sport?' He jumped off to give me a better view. 'Haven’t you ever seen it before?' I’d seen it. Everybody had seen it. It was a rich cream color, bright with nickel, swollen here and there in its monstrous length with triumphant hat-boxes and supper-boxes and toolboxes, and terraced with a labyrinth of wind-shields that mirrored a dozen suns." (50).

Nick, falling in love with the way Gatsby speaks; "Little Montenegro! He lifted up the words and nodded at them — with his smile. The smile comprehended Montenegro’s troubled history and sympathized with the brave struggles of the Montenegrin people. It appreciated fully the chain of national circumstances which had elicited this tribute from Montenegro’s warm little heart. My incredulity was submerged in fascination now; it was like skimming hastily through a dozen magazines." (52).

Nick being not okay with Gatsby being not straightforward with him; "'Look here, old sport,' said Gatsby, leaning toward me, 'I’m afraid I made you a little angry this morning in the car.' There was the smile again, but this time I held out against it." (56).

Wolfsheim talking up Gatsby to Nick; "'Fine fellow, isn’t he? Handsome to look at and a perfect gentleman.' 'Yes.'" (56).

Nick literally settling for Jordan—Note how Nick describes Jordan as 'wan'. Jordan is, almost exclusively, the only one described as wan. Remember this. Anyways, Nick settling; "Unlike Gatsby and Tom Buchanan, I had no girl whose disembodied face floated along the dark cornices and blinding signs, and so I drew up the girl beside me, tightening my arms. Her wan, scornful mouth smiled, and so I drew her up again closer, this time to my face." (62).

Chapter 5

Gatsby inviting Nick to Coney Island way too late at night; "'...Let’s go to Coney Island, old sport. In my car.'" (63).

Wow Nick. Interesting way to describe Gatsby. That's. That doesn't seem fond no not at all. No but why does 'glaring tragically' sound. Yeah; "Gatsby, pale as death, with his hands plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water glaring tragically into my eyes." (66).

Nick describing Gatsby; "He literally glowed; without a word or a gesture of exultation a new well-being radiated from him and filled the little room." (69).

OH COOL GATSBY YEAH JUST INVITE YOUR ROMANTIC INTREST AND YOUR 'VERY GOOD CLOSE MALE FRIEND' OVER TO SEE YOUR HOUSE YEAH; "'I want you and Daisy to come over to my house,' he said, 'I’d like to show her around.' 'You’re sure you want me to come?' 'Absolutely, old sport.'" (69).

Gatsby searching for approval from Nick; "'My house looks well, doesn’t it?” he demanded. “See how the whole front of it catches the light.' I agreed that it was splendid." (69-70).

Gatsby saying he keeps his house 'full of interesting people' (however, Gatsby has only invited Nick, honestly); "'I keep it always full of interesting people, night and day. People who do interesting things. Celebrated people.'" (70).

Nick, very sure Daisy couldn't possibly be right for Gatsby anymore; "There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion." (74).

Chapter 6

Nick tells us of Gatsby's truth, of the name James Gatz. Note that Nick is the one person Gatsby trusts with this. This quote us of little importance aside from me telling you the fact only Nick knows of his past; "He was a son of God — a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that — and he must be about His Father’s business, the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty. So he invented just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen-year-old boy would be likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end."

Nick once again fixated on Gatsby's smile; "I suppose he smiled at Cody — he had probably discovered that people liked him when he smiled." (77).

This isn't important this is just funny to me; "...in the course of gay parties..." (77).

Nick once again not being that into the women around him; "The girl addressed was trying, unsuccessfully, to slump against my shoulder."

Nick immediatly defending Gatsby from Tom's accusations; "'I didn’t hear it. I imagined it. A lot of these newly rich people are just big bootleggers, you know.' 'Not Gatsby,' I said shortly."

Nick really hating that Gatsby won't give up Daisy and wishing that somebody could just replace her in his mind; "Perhaps some unbelievable guest would arrive, a person infinitely rare and to be marvelled at, some authentically radiant young girl who with one fresh glance at Gatsby, one moment of magical encounter, would blot out those five years of unwavering devotion."

Nick staying late because Gatsby asked him to; "I stayed late that night, Gatsby asked me to wait until he was free, and I lingered in the garden..." (84).

Nick trying to hint that Gatsby should start looking into new people for romance. Perhaps someone in the present. Y'know. Like a writer. Just shy of thirty. With the initials N.C. Y'know. Here's the quote; "'I wouldn’t ask too much of her,' I ventured. 'You can’t repeat the past.'"

Nick wanting to say something to Gatsby; "For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man’s, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever." (86).

Chapter 7

Nick really liking Gatsby; "I wanted to get up and slap him on the back. I had one of those renewals of complete faith in him that I’d experienced before." (99).

Nick, concerned about losing 'men to know'. He doesn't mention women; "Thirty — the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know..." (104).

Nick, lying; "I disliked him so much by this time..." (110).

Chapter 8

Intriguing of you to say 'come home' and not 'go home', Nick; "I hesitated. 'You’d better come home and

get some sleep.'" (112).

Nick embodying every lovesick gay; "I couldn’t sleep all night... Toward dawn I heard a taxi go up Gatsby’s drive, and immediately I jumped out of bed and began to dress — I felt that I had something to tell him, something to warn him about, and morning would be too late." (113).

Hey remember how I said Nick pretty much only describes Jordan as wan? Yeah here's Nick describing Gatsby that way; "'Nothing happened,' he said wanly." (113).

Nick essentially being annoyed that Gatsby doesn't want to romance him now; "I think that he would have acknowledged anything now, without reserve, but he wanted to talk about Daisy." (114).

Nick not leaving Gatsby; "I didn’t want to go to the city. I wasn’t worth a decent stroke of work, but it was more than that — I didn’t want to leave Gatsby. I missed that train, and then another, before I could get myself away." (118).

Parallel between Nick and Daisy; "'I’ll call you about noon.' We walked slowly down the steps. 'I suppose Daisy’ll call too.'"

Nick's complement to Gatsby; "'They’re a rotten crowd,' I shouted across the lawn. 'You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.'" (118).

Nick lying. You don't dedicate a book to a guy entitled 'The Great' with his name and 'disapprove of him'; "It was the only compliment I ever gave him, because I disapproved of him from beginning to end." (118).

The smile, again; "First he nodded politely, and then his face broke into that radiant and understanding smile, as if we’d been in ecstatic cahoots on that fact all the time." (118).

Nick again being a concerned lovesick gay; "I called Gatsby’s house... I tried four times..." (119).

Sounds rather wishful, Nick; "I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn’t believe [the call] would come, and perhaps he no longer cared."

Chapter 9

Nick being basically haunted; "...his protest continued in my brain: 'Look here, old sport, you’ve got to get somebody for me. You’ve got to try hard. I can’t go through this alone.'" (126).

Nick upset at everyone who isn't Gatsby; "I began to have a feeling of defiance, of scornful solidarity between Gatsby and me against them all."(127).

Nick describing himself as a close friend of Gatsby to Gatsby's father; "'...Were you a friend of my boy’s, Mr.—?' 'We were close friends.'" (128).

Tom Buchanan being cruel as usual, drawing a direct parallel; "...He threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy’s..." (136).

And that's it! All possibly queer quotes from Gatsby. Again, I apologize for the length.

#the gay gatsby #the great gatsby #great gatsby #gatsby #natsby #nick carraway #jay gatsby #jordan baker #gay #queer

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littlesstorietime · 2 months ago

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Well, a virgin no more! Daddy and I had reconnected, and things went crazy our first night with eachother :) At first it all seemed normal, I wet my diaper, he checked me, told me “it’s time for a change” with the typical evil grin. Usually he allowed me to walk with him, but this time, it was quite different.

“Ah ah ah” he says, me looking at him confusingly.

“Down.” He says sternly. I knew what he meant, on my hands and knees. It’s baby time after all.

We continue to the spare bedroom turned nursery. He lifts me on the bed, and to my dismay, he has the restraints ready to go. I squirm in his arms, but he just holds on tighter.

As he sets me down, he grabs my wrist without hesitation and quickly mittens my hand, and restrains it to the corner of the bed. Once done, I didn’t fight the rest, knowing I lost. As he starts to change me, I notice he’s smiling like it’s Christmas morning. I feel the brisk air from my place hit my caged clitty and damp diapered area as he pulled my diaper down. He quickly goes to work wiping the entire area, spending extra time wiping my backside.

Once done cleaning, I closed my eyes for my least favorite part, powdering. Or so I thought. I heard a container open, immediately after, daddy starts rubbing my backdoor making it slippery. Me with my eyes closed didn’t think much of it, until a medium sized butt plug went in my backside. I squirmed helplessly in daddy’s binds. He smiles back with a “I won” face. He quickly taped a fresh diaper on me, and proceeded to climb on top of me, his waist at my face.

“Wanna suck on daddy’s paci?” He asked, having his member hard as a rock in his boxers. I nod my head, and he pulls it out and puts it in my mouth. For what felt like an eternity, was only 4 minutes. Started slow, ended balls deep.

Once done, daddy unsnapped the ties, told me “Flip over or get a spanking.”, and once done, he reapplied the straps, I was now spread to all 4 corners on my belly… you can assume what happened next.

Daddy climbed onto the bed, and proceeded to play with my bum. One finger became two, two became 3 and before I knew it, I felt the head of his big daddy dick at my back door.

Push after push, daddy tired to get into my tight backdoor, until finally, it went in! “Oh yeah baby, that’s it baby girl” daddy says to me, while im moaning from his big daddy dick. What started slow, rapidly got quicker, and by the time I could say something, I started to feel him tensing up. He quickly asks, “where do you want it.”

I couldn’t answer that. I thought I was straight, but here I am, tied up for a daddy, sucking and getting railed by him…

He asks again, getting more tense “baby, you want it in your bum?” And all I could do was nod yes. Everything in my body was telling me to say no, but my body nodded yes….

Moments later, he felt his dick explode in my virgin hole, filling it to the brim. He leaned into me, holding his dick in me, and said “baby, don’t think you are straight anymore.” And started to laugh. He finally pulled out, and I felt a jet of cum come out.

He untied me, but I was frozen for a few minutes. So frozen that he had to flip me back over, wiped me back down. Powdered me, with no fuss, and thickly diapered me with a stuffer and Purple and Pink ABDL diaper…..

With his cummies still leaking out of me, he quickly clothed me, and we rushed to his truck. He strapped in in the backseat, ensuring turns the kids safely locks on, and proceeds to take me somewhere.

5 minutes later, we arrive at an “adult store” that sells the usual stuff, but also abdl stuff. He proceeded to get me 2 packs of diapers for my place…. Looks like panties are out of the picture for a long time……

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xalwaysmaggiex · 2 months ago

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🎃🍪 Milk Chocolate Stuffed Jack-O-Lantern Cookies 🍪🎃

Get into the Halloween spirit with these adorable Milk Chocolate Stuffed Jack-O-Lantern Cookies! These festive treats are soft, chewy, and filled with gooey milk chocolate, making them perfect for celebrating the season. 🎃👻

You will need:

• Ingredients:

o For the Cookies:

 1 cup unsalted butter, softened

 1 cup granulated sugar

 1 cup packed brown sugar

 2 large eggs

 1 tsp vanilla extract

 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

 1 tsp baking powder

 1/2 tsp baking soda

 1/2 tsp salt

 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

 1/2 cup milk chocolate chips or chunks

 Orange and black icing (for decoration)

• For the Filling:

o 1 cup milk chocolate chips or chunks

Instructions:

1. Prepare the Cookie Dough:

o In a large bowl, cream together the softened butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar until light and fluffy.

o Beat in the eggs, one at a time, then add the vanilla extract.

o In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

o Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, mixing until just combined.

2. Prepare the Chocolate Filling:

o Place the milk chocolate chips or chunks in a microwave-safe bowl and microwave in 20-second intervals, stirring between each, until melted and smooth.

3. Assemble the Cookies:

o Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Line baking sheets with parchment paper.

o Scoop out a tablespoon of cookie dough and flatten it into a disk.

o Place a small spoonful of melted milk chocolate in the center of the disk.

o Top with another disk of cookie dough and seal the edges to completely encase the chocolate.

o Shape the cookies into a round form and place them on the prepared baking sheets.

4. Bake:

o Bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the edges are golden. The centers may still look slightly soft, but they will firm up as they cool.

5. Decorate:

o Allow the cookies to cool completely on a wire rack.

o Decorate with orange icing to create jack-o-lantern faces and use black icing to add details like eyes, noses, and mouths.

6. Serve:

o Enjoy these fun and festive cookies with a glass of milk or as a sweet treat for Halloween parties!

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averydavery · 7 months ago

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Photo Dump from Indy’s Very Own Popcon!

Just to be clear, this was not my only cosplay for this three day event! However, Saturday (yesterday) was the biggest day with the most events, so I did my best cosplay for it! On Friday I was John Marston and my friend was Arthur Morgan from RDR2, and today I just went in a simple gyaru makeup look!

But that’s not what you’re here for!

Here’s my Black Jack cosplay just a few months late of the 50th anniversary year of the series. I knew that since my face is very round and that I have a button nose I wouldn’t be able to do a “one for one” cosplay look that I think would do him justice. So instead of working against my body, I created a look that embraced it… I call it Drag Jack!

Please understand that this was my first ever time doing this cosplay so I ended up putting the skin patch on the wrong side of the face (it’s actually the correct side of the face the wig just is backwards and I forget to flip it), but also I didn’t do the scar on his chin either because I forgot as well, let alone any other scars on my body. Next time I did this cosplay I’ll make sure to fix it!

Full body shot, even though this was in the convention center bathrooms the tile gives that sterile hospital look so I mess with it.

Head shots, as you can tell I’m not good at choosing locations for my photos. I plan on redoing it with better photos and not gluing my brows, so stay tuned!

I really should’ve Got2Be’d those spike before I left house… the strands are everywhere.

Ai No Hoshi Maid Cafe! They were a lotta fun! If you’re in the Indiana, Ohio, or Kentucky area and plan on going to a con make sure to check if they’ll be there too! Highly recommend, one of the butlers was a fellow Doctor!

This shitty redraw of mine of Black Jack as Trixie Matel inspired this entire look!

Price and Advice for Future BJ Cosplayer’s:

Cost (with tax and shipping): about $73.31

Contacts from Uniqso x2: $28.62

Wig from Ezcosplay: $22.69

Fishnets from Five Below: ~$5

Translucent setting powder from Five Below: ~$3

Red Ribbon from Micheal’s: ~$3

Concealer & Brightner two pack makeup from Marshall’s: ~$5

Face Paint from Party City: $5

Lip/Blush pale pink cream stick from [a target resale/wholesale store that I won’t named for my own privacy reasons]: $1

Black Turtleneck Bodysuit from Target: $0 (I had a gift card, if not it was about ~$12 I think?)

Owned or Borrowed Items, many are optional items

Three different colored (black, white, maroon) gel eyeliner pencils: BORROWED

White Foundation from Sunset Makeup: BORROWED

Chrome Eyeliner: BORROWED

Brown Tights: OWNED

Boots: OWNED

Dickey Collar: OWNED, I cut up a white polo

Wig Styling Suppkies: OWNED

Rest of Makeup: OWNED

Advice for Cosplaying BJ

WET-DRY MAKEUP METHOD!!!! The Wet-Dry method of makeup is used in Drag makeup and many other makeup genres to set face paint or heavy makeup. For Black Jack’s face patch you’re going to want to start with a wet facepaint color and then set it with translucent setting powder so it doesn’t only stay all day, but also looks more matte and not porous. Next time I do this look, I plan to use more so my skin looks a bit flatter.

CREAM CONTOURS!!!! Use a cream based contour to contour your nose, cheekbones, and temples. If you use a powdered contour it will come off VERY easily and it will be hard to get a clean line with. I relied on these cream contours mostly for my nose since, again, I have a button nose so I really wanted to contour that to at least make it look a little thinner and longer.

SAFETY PIN YOUR BOW!!! If you want a bow that looks “cartoony” you won’t get that just by tying a red ribbon around your neck. I sewed and glued my bow then safety pinned it my collar to appear like it was standing up on its own. It’s cute!

WEAR TIGHTS (if you’re doing this specific black jack look lmfao)!!! If I did not wear those tights way too much of my hip would be showing. I’m personally not comfort showing that much of my body, so I wore tights underneath my fishnets. But you do you! I like the darker color since it sorta looks like I’m wearing see through dark tights but matching your skin tone as close as possible can make it seem like you aren’t wearing tights at all even if you actually are! Highly recommend!

DON’T FORGET YOUR EAR!!! This isn’t required but I think it looks nice to put a bit of face paint on your ear to look like the skin patch covers that area as well as your face. It’s a bit more cohesive but also doesn’t matter too much.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO BE CAMPY!!! Black Jack’s character is over-the-top and exaggerated, so you shouldn’t be afraid to do the same. If I really wanted this to be Drag Jack, I would’ve done an entire drag makeup look and I think that would be PERFECT if someone better than I at that kind of makeup does it! The bigger the bow the better too! Get some props like a kids toy stethoscope or a mask or gloves! Monopoly money too haha!!!

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momamistilllyoung · 1 year ago

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klance as me and my bfs on a festival of colors! (but make it even gayer)

1. (12pm, mall, furniture shop)

Lance: Lemme show you a pic of a wallpaper I saw recently, it's dark blue with white flowers, a bit Japanese style-

Keith: I'm into one-coloured walls... and it's either just white or just black.

Lance: Oh, you know, I like the style where it's one wall in a different color or one's with a wallpaper-

Keith, at Lance's phone: no... just no for me...

Lance, wanting to get off the topic: okay well maybe a similar couch but longer-

a few hours later

(sw before 7pm) The two talking about how's life for them, Lance almost falling asleep on Keith...

Keith: you know what's the only wallpaper I'd agree to?

Lance, eyes sparking up, his back str8 up: yeaA??

Keith, showing Lance his phone with the image googled: minecraft wallpaper.

Lance: yeahahah! oh! a screenshot of the sakura trees in the newest update!

Keith: yea, okay, we can even take sakura trees:)<3

2. (near 7pm) Some middle-aged lady asked Shiro to take a picture of her and her family all in the colorful powders. Lance runs up to Shiro with his hands full of purple powder, and grabs Shiro's tits trough his not-anymore white t-shirt, making the family burst out laughing. Shiro loves all his kids and forgave him.

A moment after that, Lance and Keith sat on the side and discussed their future dream house together, though they're just a pair of dumb teens now. They sit facing each other and just spitting out ideas. Lance is covered head to toe in the purple festival powder, while Keith is clean cuz he has to run some errands just after the party.

Lance: Hey, you really think we will be able to afford all this?

Keith, putting his clean hand on Lance's purple cheek: No, but we can dream

Keith sees his palm is all purple now, so he shakes it off with the help of his other hand.

Lance, putting his purple hand on Keith's clean cheek, receiving a death stare: yeahahaHAHAH

3. (after 8pm, alr dark) Once Keith's back, they all meet him with festival powders ready. Allura pulls him into a hug and sprinkles a blue and a green one over his back and hair. Keith protests and slips out before she can load out the whole packs on him.

Keith, letting Lance pull him into a hug: Hi, sunshine

Lance, slowly sprinkling the neon yellow one on Keith, like Allura did: Hiiiii-

Allura makes the most of the moment between boys and attacks them with the rest of her packs. Lance is blinded cuz his shades are now wholly blue, gives them to Shiro to clean (on his not anymore white shirt) and they're off chasing Allura with their packs.

BONUS, didn't happen but it reminded me of Klance:

(10:30pm?) Lance and Keith splitting ways after the festive, they've been hugging for about 5 mins now.

Lance, kissing Keith's green cheek, getting the powder on his lips: mm it's actually tasty-

Keith, kissing Lance to try it too: Uh, it's not and wHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT EATING CHEMICALS AND GLITTER-

Pidge, pouring out a neon powder straight into their mouth: no, it is actually-

(anything's good to Pidge after Keith's cooking)

#klance #klance headcanon #voltron #voltron headcanons #keith voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #lance voltron #vld #vld lance #vld keith #vld pidge #vld prompts #pidge holt #vld shiro #takashi shirogane #shiro voltron #space dad rights!

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leftnotright · 10 months ago

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A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CHAPTER 6: I'VE ALREADY HID THE BODY

Dino patted his face dry gingerly, looking every bit the drowned rat he felt like.

Hot water had all but reignited the powder the man had thrown at him, and as soon as Dino had stepped into what he had hoped to be a relaxing, warm shower, he had immediately regretted it. So, Dino had subjected himself to a speedrun of a freezing shower to get as much of the powder, old water and soil off of him.

The soil had been the hardest. It had been in every one of his sweaty nooks and crannies.

Dino had only dug a grave himself once before. He hoped he remembered all the steps.

Dino continued to pat his red, blotchy face as he slumped into some clothes and, finally, looked at the state of his dorm.

Powdery handprints, footsteps and drag marks covered the place. There was water on his papers and soaking both his textbooks and carpet, and so many things had been knocked over and pulled down in the fight. It was going to take forever to clean.

Dino sighed and looked at the clock, already 11PM. At least he didn’t have class tomorrow.

He moved to the coffee table and gently pulled at his papers. Thankfully, none of the Mafia-related ones were damp, but Dino was going to have to reprint that spreadsheet handed out at his last tutorial. He packed away the sensitive documents in their hidden cubbyhole.

Enzo plodded out from Dino’s bedroom, finally deciding to leave his sunlamp and sand bath.

“Some help you were,” Dino pouted.

Enzo peered up at him with beady eyes, then made a b-line for the water spill.

“Hey! Hey! No!” Dino shouted and scooped up the turtle who continued to wiggle his legs in his insatiable water-lust.

Then Dino froze and listened.

The crunch of boots against pavement and leaves. The rustle of fabric against skin. The jangle of metal. Laboured breaths and a sigh through clenched teeth. The knock of knuckles against a door.

Dino blinked. Knocking?

Carefully, Dino peered through the slits of his blinds and spotted the figure at his door. Their head snapped around.

“Dino! Show me the baby damn it!”

Dino sputtered. What was Vic doing here at 11PM!?

“Let me see the little babyman!” Vic whined again.

Dino didn’t know if it was his anxiety-induced people pleasing, or the fact that Dino all but had a death grip on the knowledge that Vic was his friend who liked Dino and his company, but before he could think, Dino’s mouth had happily said: “Of course!”

Then Dino choked and shouted, “No!”

But Vic had already marched through his door.

Dino looked at Vic, then at the state of his dorm, then back at the frightening still girl.

Slowly, Dino extended Enzo towards Vic and said in a small voice, “Do you want to hold the baby?”

Vic turned her head to look at Dino, and Dino saw the moment her temper snapped.

“What the fuck happened!?”

Dino’s face must have been worse than he thought, because the moment Vic laid eyes on him, she lost her head. Vic crossed the room in long, heavy strides and grabbed him by the head so she could see the chapped, red skin. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, his nose was crusty and peeling, and Dino was still damp.

Vic looked upon Dino and the state of his dorm, and it all pieced together. Vic could hear that familiar rumble in her ears, and the pressure in her throat — but as she moved Dino’s head to see if there was any more damage to him, she saw a tear track down his cheek and Vic did everything she could to stomp down that anger.

The pressure eased, but that rumble remained, a constant background noise that made it hard for her to hear, to think. Vic gritted her teeth and bore it.

Her baby boy Dino had just been robbed, and possibly attacked! He had been alone and crying, for who knew how long — and of course this had to happen on a night when there were two house parties going on, so no one was aware of the world, or too piss drunk to care.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and let go of Dino’s head, circling around Dino and nudging at his body.

Dino flinched with a sharp hiss when Vic prodded his shoulder and he quickly spun around, “I’m fine! Promise! No lies!”

“Yes lies,” Vic snapped and poked him in the shoulder again, “How the fuck did you get hurt? Did they jump you? Where are they, I’m gonna beat their ass—”

“No, no, no,” Dino rambled and grabbed Vic by her arm to redirect her deeper into the dorm, kicking his door shut behind them. “Far away, they are far away now. They will not come back, I am sure.”

They paused as something crunched under Vic’s foot, and they both looked down to see shattered glass underneath her boots. Vic looked at Dino over her shoulder with eyes sharp enough to cut, and Dino continued to push her over to the dining table.

He thinned his lips when he saw the state of the back porch door, the way the hitman had entered.

“Your fucking deck door is smashed—”

“It can be replaced—”

“Dino!” Vic shouted, sounding appalled and she spun around to grab Dino back. “Why are you so calm about this!?”

“It is over,” Dino said slowly, and let her grip him by the forearms, her nails digging in and grip so tight she was shaking. “It is over.”

Vic was not calm at the moment, but Dino could see she was trying. Trying so hard to keep it together, but she was slipping constantly. Everything she saw was something to set off the tripwire in her brain — Dino knew that feeling well.

Then Vic stared at him, her nails still biting his skin, and she uttered, “You’re used to this.”

Dino winced but nodded and gave what he hoped was a comforting smile, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m used to this. It is not the first time.”

Vic swallowed hard and squeezed Dino’s arms again. She wasn’t satisfied. But her anger had gone quiet, a rolling boil just under her skin that she could keep a careful lid on.

“Okay, fine,” she said, taking slow, deep breaths through her teeth. Her voice was low, like she was trying not to wake what was left. “Fine. We’ll— for a few hours— we’ll act like this is fine.”

“For a few hours,” Dino agreed but didn’t pull away.

Vic puffed out a sigh, “But are you okay? Like, actually. Other than your shoulder, I mean.”

“Yes, I am well,” he assured, and she gave him a short look. “I promise.”

“...Okay. Okay, that’s good,” she relented, and then looked at the state of Dino’s dormhouse. “Fuck, they made a mess.”

“Yeah, it will take a while to clean up.”

Vic let go of Dino’s arms and rubbed her face, before she clapped her hands loudly.

“Let’s get cracking, then,” she said, and set into the mess.

Dino blinked at Vic, then put Enzo down and rushed to join her. He brought over a dustpan from under the sink and swept up the spilt pot soil as Vic picked up the shattered plastic terracotta bits with her gloves.

Dino looked over at Vic and took in what she was wearing: beige, steel-capped boots, jeans and a red polo shirt. She had a bulky carabiner clipped to her belt, cluttered with an arrangement of keys, glove clips and some kind of yellow tool with small blades.

“Where were you?” Dino asked, looking her over and Vic paused dropping those shards in the dustpan.

“Work,” she answered, “I do the closing shift on Friday.”

Dino blinked slowly, “Oh. That is all work items?”

Vic looked down at her carabiner and bounced in her squat to make it give a little jangle, “Yeah. Locker key, mover key, bat knife, mini measuring tape. Other ring is car and the dorm key though.”

“You came from work then?” Dino asked as he pulled over his kitchen bin to dump everything.

Vic stared at the limp, blackened succulent on the floor and tossed it in the trash as well. She rose from the floor with a groan and punched at her lower back as she moved over to the next mess.

“Yeah. Wanted to see Enzo. And you too, I guess, you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Dino said flatly, and heard Vic snicker as she inspected the handprints on the walls and floor. “But it is so late, why did you come now?”

Vic glanced at Dino before she shifted on the spot, and carefully touched the powder with her gloved finger, trying to see if it would wipe off easily.

“Had a bit of a shit shift, is all,” she said.

Vic moved to the dustpan and beat off any remaining soil, before she moved to the walls.

“I, uh, I will do that,” Dino insisted and dashed over to take the brush from her hands. He had felt what that powder was like, and he didn’t want Vic getting any of that in her eyes or lungs. “I do not know what the powder is.”

Vic’s frown returned with a vengeance and the grinding of teeth. She turned on her heel and opened the front door and every available window, channelling her temper into fighting with the stubborn bathroom windows.

Dino smiled at Vic as she started scooping up the back porch door’s glass while muttering under her breath. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth before he started brushing that capcaissum-like dust off the walls.

By the time they were done, it was well past midnight, and Dino had a lot of laundry to do come the morning after stripping his bed and couch of their covers. Vic had managed to use trash bags and a mini stapler to wrap Dino’s porch - deck - door and keep out the bugs.

Dino came inside from putting out the bins and locked the flyscreen door to the front, still airing out that powder. He stopped when he saw Vic standing in his, thankfully untouched, kitchen.

“They stole your food too!?”

She opened one cabinet after another, nary a scrap or packet in sight. All that was there were plates and haphazardly stacked pots. Dino blinked slowly, the clock blurry in the corner of his vision.

“I suppose?” He said, “I did not have much food. Cooking is not strong.”

Vic looked at him, “How much is not much.”

Dino thinned his lips. Vic continued to stare at him.

“...I did not have any stored there.”

“Dino,” she said shortly, then she pinched her brow and looked around, “Then where do you store your stuff?”

Dino moved to the fridge and opened it. Kebabs and various pastas from the student Ubar took up the top shelf, a jug of water and a half-drunk Pepsi in the door. There was nothing else.

Vic looked at him.

“I am one man,” he reasoned in response to that flat stare.

Vic thought about it for a moment, before nodding in her head in defeat, “Okay, fair.”

Then Vic went about looking at those cabinets again, all hauntingly empty. She seemed to count them, then count the five shelves in the fridge, with only one in use. Ample storage, far too much for ‘one man’ with little to no guests. Dino watched as she sized up the space, wondering what was going on.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Vic asked, looking over her shoulder.

“No,” Dino admitted slowly, “I have not had time.”

He had been too nervous to eat before the meeting, save that cookie Vic had given him, and too busy afterwards. His usual shop in the Ubar for a hot meal would be long closed by now — besides, Dino rarely had an appetite after handling a corpse.

Dino suddenly wondered if his lightheadedness was from that powder, or over 12 hours without a proper meal. He needed to eat soon.

“Proposal!” Vic announced and Dino snapped to attention just as a cup of cool water was shoved into his hands. “You lemme store my foodstuffs in your capacious cupboards, and I’ll help you learn to cook! Life skills, My Little Pony, life skills!”

“But, you have a kitchen in your dormhouse? Do you not use it?”

Vic’s smile twitched and became the baring of teeth.

“I would, but roommates,” she said, voice strained. “They kept using my stuff without asking, and they didn’t even replace it!” Vic took a large breath and crossed her arms, “I just keep everything in eskies now.”

Dino blinked. He remembered those three coolers stacked up on top of each other in the corner of Vic’s bedroom. Vic was hoarding her food in her room to protect it.

Dino sipped at his water and glanced at his storage. More than one man, one university student, could fill. Again, Dino’s anxious need to please reared its head. The idea of Vic, his friend, having to all but resource guard in her own dormhouse only fanned those flames. Dino fought it as best he could.

“Yeah!”

Which wasn’t much. At all. But he tried!

Then Dino remembered what was shoved into his underwear drawer, and what was coiled up in his back pocket. What was stored away in a cubby hole, what was cooling deep in the dirt outside. Mafia shit.

“But, uh, please be careful of my items,” he pressed, imagining the chaos of Vic finding any of his files.

“Of course,” Vic nodded, not an inch of humour or sarcasm in her tone. “Your dorm, your stuff. I won’t touch anything unless I have the go from you.”

Dino relaxed a bit.

“Anyway, gimme a sec and I’ll grab us some dinner. Be right back!” And Vic was out the door with the vicious jangle of her keys.

Dino resisted the urge to rub his face lest he irritate his still-red skin, and instead went about fitting the sheets back onto his bed so he had somewhere to sleep all of this off.

Dino sat on the floor of his living room, not willing to use the bare couch, especially with that suspicious stain that they had exposed. He gave a glance to the washing baskets full of laundry for tomorrow and tried not to think about how his lazy day was no longer looking any sort of lazy.

Enzo took that moment to appear, rounding the side of the couch and chomped Dino’s socked toes.

“Ouch!” Dino hissed and yanked his foot away. “Damn it Enzo!”

“Is that the baby I hear!?” Dino heard from outside and looked over to see Vic hauling two eskies down Dino’s path, dressed down into her usual garb.

Dino stood and let her in, the girl hoisting the eskies up over the step and into his living room.

“I’ve got butter chicken leftovers that need to be eaten soon and naan bread for a quick and dirty dinner,” she offered, taking off her shoe next to the door where Dino’s were.

“Okay,” Dino agreed and went about getting out the few plates he had, running them under the tap just in case.

“Is there anywhere in particular you’d want me to stay out of?” Vic asked, crouched in front of Dino’s fridge.

Dino shrugged as he briefly tried to read the instructions of microwaved rice. He didn’t really use more than the top shelf by himself. Divvying up a fridge had never been a pressing matter.

Dino shrugged and put the rice in the microwave, punching in the numbers he saw on the packaging.

Vic hummed unsurely up at Dino, before she slipped a bottle of almond milk into the second bottom shelf. Dino stared at the bottle and remembered suddenly: Vic is lactose intolerant.

“Top two can be yours, and we can discuss the door shelves when you’re not ready to pass out.”

“How are you so alive?” Dino asked, still fighting the need to rub his eyes.

Or, well, as ‘alive’ as someone as lethargic as Vic could be. It hadn’t been quick, like coming down a steep slope, but Vic had returned to her lazy state as she stocked up Dino’s fridge.

“Night shift, baby,” Vic sang flat, and put her esky aside as she closed the fridge. “And I didn’t get broken into.”

Dino huffed and Vic gave a short laugh that had to all but crawl from her throat. Then she stopped, sniffed and snapped her head around, “How long did you put that in for?”

Dino looked over his shoulder and smelt melting plastic. Dino yelped and scrambled for the cancel button, the microwave door popped open and steam and white smoke came pouring out. Vic hacked and couched, and Dino slammed the door shut again.

Dino glanced at Vic. Vic looked at Dino.

Vic put the container of butter chicken into the fridge, middle shelf.

“Let’s just eat cereal tonight.”

A bowl of almost-chocolate milk sat in Dino’s lap as he and Vic watched videos of silly cats on her laptop, the girl herself munching through her share of Milo cereal. Enzo peaked up and over Vic’s thigh, happily cradled in the nest of her crossed legs.

“How’s your shoulder?” Vic asked out of the blue, and Dino glanced at her.

She looked drowsy, all but slumped against the baseboard of his couch. Her bowl tipped dangerously. Each breath she took was long and paced.

“It’s okay,” Dino said, moving his murky cereal soup around. “They did not hurt me. I did not even see them.”

Vic breathed out, long and slow. A cat fell into a bathtub. Another got scared by a piano. Vic ate a heaped spoonful.

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Dino blinked, “Pardon?”

Vic watched a cat run headlong into a glass door.

“You had someone break in. People usually don’t wanna be alone after that, ya know?” she huffed, “I don’t particularly want to leave you alone, either. They might get cocky and come back.”

Dino looked at the dots of black dirt under his nails, the last remnants he couldn’t scrub out. He doubted they would be coming back.

Dino glanced at Vic. A civilian would be shaken by a break-in. Right. Already, this breach had put Vic on edge. Hypervigilance. She would be watching Dino, and everything around him. Dino had to act civilian.

“I would like that, yes,” Dino nodded gently, and Vic nodded back.

Then she tipped back the last of her almond milk and got to her feet, Enzo wheezing at the abandonment.

“I’ll go grab my nighties and shit then. Be right back.”

Dino watched Vic go, before he reached for his phone and texted Romario.

Dino Cav Vic is staying the night in my dormhouse.

Romario did not respond for at least ten minutes. Then Dino’s phone started to shake on the countertop as ‘Romario’ became ‘Romario (15)’ and ‘Zio Croix (7)’.

Dino paused rinsing the bowls and looked at his phone, wondering about the frenzy — and how Zio Croix was caught up in it. He put the bowls on the drying rack Vic had found deep in his cupboards, but before he could reach to address those texts, Vic was once again knocking on his screen door.

Dino let her in and was immediately faced with felt teeth.

Vic’s head peered from around the large, nearly life-sized, toy shark. She grinned with teeth, nearly the spitting image.

“Meet Nip,” she introduced, shaking that shark at Dino. “My cuddle shark.”

“...Hello Nip,” Dino uttered and made way as the girl shuffled into the dorm. “Why?”

“I need to hug something to fall asleep,” she said as she put down a tote bag against the side of Dino’s couch. “Hence: cuddle shark, Nip.” Vic looked around and said, “So uh, where do you want me to sleep?”

Dino paused and looked at the couch, stripped bare and with newly exposed, suspicious stains. He looked at the laundry basket, the only spare sheets in the dorm, and in danger of holding that powder residue.

“Did not think about it,” Dino said slowly.

He had towels, but he couldn’t ask Vic, his guest, to sleep on towels. All of the Cavallone would have his head!

“I will sleep in this room,” Dino offered, thinking of laying towels on the couch. “And you may have my bed.”

Vic tilted her head, “But you’re the one who needs the better sleep. I can sleep on the couch.”

“Please, my Family would kill me,” Dino nearly pleaded.

Vic let out a short bark of a laugh and hiked up her shark onto her shoulder. She looked down the hall into Dino’s bedroom and hummed before she turned to Dino and said, “Mate, you’ve got a queen size. We can share if you’re comfy?”

Dino stared at Vic, “You would like to share?”

Vic shrugged, “Up to you, I’m good for it though.”

Dino looked at his bed, then at the couch, then at Vic and her life-sized shark. Immediately, Dino was rushed with a nervous excitement. He felt his face split into a shaky smile and rocked on his heels, full of elated jitters.

“I am okay!” He agreed, “We can share, yes!”

Dino had taken a while to get used to the bed at the dormhouse. It wasn’t especially soft or hard, but it was different. He sorely missed his own pillow; this one made his neck hurt for the first few weeks.

So Dino understood as he watched Vic pull the slip off his spare pillow and replaced it with her own. She folded the slip up and laid it on the chair in the corner. Then she stood in front of Enzo’s suitcase, full of topsoil and sticks.

“They stole his fucking enclosure,” she whispered staring down at it and the way Enzo slowly rubbed himself into his sandpit.

Dino decided it was an investment in his personal safety to let her believe that.

She squatted down and gently petted Enzo’s shell with the soft utterance of ‘red-eared slider, my ass’ before she clambered up into the bed, Nip in arms. Dino fisted his sheets in his hands, sat on ‘his side’ of the bed, a clear divide down the middle.

Vic sat on her side, lamp the only light in the room.

Dino smiled at Vic, “I have never had a sleepover before.”

Dino could barely contain himself. Sure, it was under less-than-ideal circumstances, but Dino was having his first sleepover with his friend! He couldn’t wait to tell Romario.

Vic blinked, “Me neither.”

All the movies Dino had seen showed people at sleepover playing games and consuming an array of foods — none of which he had on hand. Especially with his microwave out of commission until it stopped smelling of something toxic. He remembered his classmates back in Italy discussing sleepovers, well ‘rendezvous’ or ‘meetings’, as they called it at the time. Dino didn’t think Vic would much like it if their sleepover activity was an impromptu helicopter ride like the Tomaso Family did.

Dino tugged at his blankets a bit, “What do we want to do?”

Vic flopped back into the bed and bodily wrapped herself around her shark, pulling the duvet all the way up to her chin.

“Sleep,” she decided, and God that sounded utterly sublime.

Dino didn’t hesitate to curl up like a little comfort crustacean. His head hit the pillow and all those dopamine jitters were sapped straight from his bones for melatonin mugginess.

“Good idea,” Dino grumbled and Vic turned out the lights.

☁ ☁ ☁

“Hey Romario?” Dino asked as he held the phone to his ear, watching on as Vic stubbornly piled the straps of several hefty shopping bags onto her hands and waddled into his dorm. “Would you be able to send me some, uh, cooking stuff?”

“Cooking stuff,” Romario echoed slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, as Vic organised their food in the cupboards and fridge, following some sort of system Dino had no clue about. “Stuff that I’d need for cooking. Cooking stuff.”

“Very well, Boss. I’ll ask the chef to organise a basic package.”

“Perfect! Thanks a lot, Romario,” Dino said, before wheezing as Vic shoved a bag of flatbread in his chest.

“Come on, ponyboy, we’re making wraps for lunch,” Vic announced, waving the bag of roasted chicken. “No way we can mess this up.”

Later, Dino choked on a bone. Vic now knew the correct spelling for ‘heimlich’.

☁ ☁ ☁

Sunday morning, Vic sat on the couch, still smelling fresh from the laundry, and bodily wrapped around Nip as she watched Dino haul a box into the living room. He wheezed and heaved, dragging the box as it clanged and banged with whatever was inside.

“Doing good there buddy?” Vic asked, but made no move to help.

“Good,” Dino said, before his socked feet slipped out from under him and he fell on his ass. “Still good!”

Vic snorted and leant over the edge of the couch to rummage through her bag. She pulled out a box knife from her balled-up work apron and tossed it at Dino who was haplessly picking at the taped-up box.

Dino fumbled with the knife for a bit, before he managed to open the box. Vic peered over his shoulder.

“The hell is this?” She asked as Dino pulled out one smaller box after another, carefully packaged and wrapped in scrunched-up newspaper. She snagged a page and squinted; Italian. “This from home?”

“Yeah! I asked Romario to send some tools!”

“Ah, Romario,” Vic uttered. Her rival for custody of Dino.

Dino grinned at Vic, happy she knew so many of his Family by name. He really should have thought it dangerous, negligent even, that he was letting a civilian know so many of the pieces that made the Cavallone’s top level — but really, Dino reasoned, when would it come up again? Vic was going to be a teacher in Australia, after all.

Dino huffed as Vic batted at him with Nip to get him to hurry up and show her what he had been sent.

A pasta machine, made of black cast iron and polished wood, came out first. It was heavy and Dino wheezed as he tried to raise it up to show Vic. On the bottom, Dino could read VillaWare Manufacturing Co. 1908. The head chef had always found it a bit annoying that the first pasta maker had been built in Cleveland, USA of all places.

Dino gave it a testing crank. It was old, but it turned without so much a creak.

The next item Dino pulled wasn't exactly heavy but had a heft to it that made his fingers hurt as he clutched the edge. A circular slab of stone, flat as a tack and thick with little handles on either side; a pizza stone. Accompanied by a pizza paddle that Vic used as a rather dangerous choice of fan.

The last large piece was a large pan, at least a finger in depth. Dino had seen the chefs use this kind of pan to make sauces before.

Aside from that, the box was full of miscellaneous bits and bobs, some coming in multiples in a way that made Dino think they were important — did he really need that many wooden spoons? Why were they different shapes?

At the bottom, sat a few small folded paper packages. Dino reached in and read that familiar handwriting on the backs: basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano. Seeds, sent from home.

“You got a letter,” Vic hummed from over Dino’s shoulder and he jumped to attention and saw an envelope wedged beneath the folds of the box. “What’s it say?”

Dino leant back into the couch as he read Romario’s clean and precise handwriting, always a stickler for clarity and precision, down to the penmanship.

“Instructions to look after the pasta machine,” he said, before getting to the bottom of the letter. “They are going to send more later. A, uh, ‘care package’?”

“More!?” Vic asked, looking at what was already spread across the coffee table, stacked on top of each other and nearly toppling off the edge.

“Yeah, my Family tends to over-give sometimes,” Dino chuckled, still trying to figure out why there was a random, gritty block packaged with the knives. “A lot of us live in one household under the head, so we use quite a bit.”

Vic blinked, “You all live in one big house?”

“Yes! After induction, you are to live in the house until deemed ready!”

Dino's smile froze. Vic stared at him with a particular look on her face that somehow told Dino that something he had said was not a social norm.

“What?” Vic uttered, and squinted even as her eyebrows shot up.

Dino wheezed and started waving his hands frantically, “I, uh, mean — the new members of the Family come to live in the house! It is safe there and tradition and uh— Please do not focus on it—!”

Vic lurched to sit up on the couch, Nip the shark all but flung across the living room as she gaped at Dino’s spluttering self.

He fucked up!

“Wait, are you in a cult?”

Oh, he fucked up!

“Dino? Are you? In a cult?” she pressed, both fascinated and concerned. “Like, you can tell me, I won’t judge. My uncle believes that a secret race of people called the ‘True Earthlings’ run the world.”

“No, I’m not in a cul— your uncle believes what?” Dino squinted. “How? Why does he think that?”

“Beats me,” Vic shrugged as she crossed her legs, feet pressed flat against one another. “But he talks about it at pretty much every family gathering. We usually change the topic.” Then she rocked forward on the couch and loomed over Dino. “But you. Cult?”

“No,” Dino stressed, “We are not a cult. We are a Family.”

“Sounds like a cult, not gonna lie,” Vic muttered, scratching at the piercing hole in her ear.

“Not a cult!”

“Okay, okay,” Vic laughed and backed off. “But fuck mate, that must be a big house you’ve got.”

Dino smiled, remembering those long halls and polished floors, perfecting the sliding on socks and being dragged on blankets. “Yes, enough room for everyone.”

Vic huffed and groaned as she got to her feet.

“Okay, let’s get that machine cranking! Pasta time!” She paused and looked down at Dino. “You know how to make pasta noodles right? You’re Italian.”

“Did you remember to park your koala?” Dino shot back. “And I’m Sicilian.”

Vic stuck her tongue out at Dino and flipped him off, “The stereotype is ‘kangaroo’, you Sicilian piece of shit. Now get up, we’re gonna Youtube it.”

Vic was glad they had started preparing their dinner early, as the next half an hour resulted in a rather frantic back and forth of more egg yolk, more flour, more egg, more flour, more egg, more flour, more—

“I don’t think we can eat all of this,” Dino murmured as the two looked down at the ball of rested dough the size of a small toddler.

“Speak for yourself, coward,” Vic huffed and grabbed handfuls.

True to her words, Vic ate her whole serving of five large bowls. Dino had to rub her belly as she laid on the couch in pasta-ey regret.

At least, now Dino had plenty of pasta in the fridge. He would be eating it for a while.

☁ ☁ ☁

Dino laid on his couch, a sheet of paper draped across his face. Enzo gently gnawed on his shin through his pyjama pants.

He was bored. And lonely.

Semester break had set in. Dino had meant to go home over the mid-year break, spend the semester's end on Sicilian soil. Instead, when Winter crawled into the southern hemisphere and Dino had reached for the plane tickets home—

“I’m sorry Boss, Reborn’s instructions were clear. You can’t come back this time, not yet.”

Dino had damn near broken into tears.

Instead, after much bed-rotting, Dino had thrown himself into the familiar stress of number crunching, creating pages of cramped value tables and highlighted budget summaries. On the floor sat a bin full of tear-soggy tissues.

Vic had gone upstate to New Castle for the mid-year break, but Dino hadn’t had the time to miss her company as she made sure to text her ‘poor, lonesome boy’ at least once a day. Dino’s phone was full of photos of ‘blobfish babies’ and some kind of mixed mutt that looked like it could win a bullfight called Pepper. Or, as Vic liked to call her: ‘Pepe my sweet little girl, so beautiful!’

Dino did have to admit, her baby cousin, Ant, did look a bit like a blobfish. A cute one. A cute blobfish.

He still wished she was here, though. Dino had never liked the quiet, it never brought good things. For Dino, a quiet house was a house in mourning.

Dino tried to play some old Italian music to help the homesickness. He found he couldn’t stand it without the sound of Romario snoring in his armchair, or Brutus heckling at the football.

Dino crossed his arms over his eyes, the sheet wrinkled under the weight.

“I wanna go home, Enzo,” he murmured, muffled.

Enzo made another bite at his shin.

“I wanna see Vic.”

☁ ☁ ☁

It had been months since Dino had struck a deal with the rest of the Cavallone: Bet everything on one last race. Bet everything on the Cavallone horses.

And yet, he had made minimal progress.

The search for jockeys had been difficult, he hadn’t even known where to start. But as he paged through the list of names and backgrounds Romario had sent, Dino could see his options wearing thin.

There were jockeys, young upstarts and disgraced retirees. But Dino needed a specific brand of person.

He didn’t have the money to pay them lavishly, nor buy their silence, so he needed someone low budget, low maintenance. Young, maybe. Inexperienced and unaware of their worth. Skilled enough to handle a horse of Cavallone’s breeding. Loyalty easily fostered. They couldn’t ask questions. And they couldn’t be Mafia.

One jockey per horse.

The Stable Master had given him seven horses to work with, Madam Celeste, Buttercup Pop, Today Junior, Red Riding, Bottle Top, the best of the Cavallone’s renowned Snortle line and, of course, Glory herself.

One jockey per horse. Dino needed to find at least seven jockeys. And then he had to pray that the horses accepted their riders.

Dino grimaced at the concept of trying to introduce a jockey to Glory. He made a note to have a medic on scene.

Dino sighed and dropped his head onto the dining table, articles and handwritten notes of half thoughts stacked high enough to cushion his dismay. Dino was tired.

Enzo bit his little toe through his sock. Dino screeched. He shot up with a gasp — he saw Vic pressed against the window.

“Show me the boy.”

Dino screeched. He fell off his chair into the sweet embrace of his cold, tile floor.

“Careful! You could have hurt Enzo!” Vic scolded as she banged on the window.

Dino gaped at her from the floor, offended.

“What!? No sympathy for Dino!?”

“Shut up and let me in! I’m freezing my tits off!”

Dino resisted rolling his eyes as he heaved himself up off the ground. It was only 17 degrees, barely coat weather, but Vic was whining like she was up on Etna. Dino opened his door and Vic came barreling past, honed on his couch.

Dino laughed when he saw the mass of blankets on the couch, each one brought by Vic every time she couldn’t resist the knick-knackery of Kmart. Two grumpy eyes peered out, and the tell-tale sound of Enzo’s disgruntled wheeze.

“You’re back?” Dino smiled as he came and sat by Vic’s head, those eyes glaring up at him.

“Nah, I’m astral projecting — yes I’m back!” Vic huffed and Dino grinned.

He leant over and threw his arms around the mass that was Vic bundled within her blankets, squeezing tight even when the girl gave a wheeze. One of Vic’s hands wriggled its way out of the hold and gently patted Dino’s shoulder with an obligatory “there, there.”

“You were away for so long,” Dino grumbled.

Vic huffed, “I was gone for three weeks.”

“Three weeks much too long!” He whined and Vic let out a laugh that jostled both of them.

Dino let out an indignant sound as he slumped into Vic and felt the twang in his back and the ache in his eyes. He had been looking at documents for so long, done so much close-up work, that he could barely make out the clock face on the wall.

“You look like shit,” Vic grumbled from within her blanket mount.

Dino smiled weakly and rubbed his nape. He felt like shit too. A bit sweaty. Cooped up.

But he had work to do. So many relied on this one last gamble.

Dino tried not to let the stress show. That stone in his stomach and pressure in his chest.

Vic stared at him.

“Dino?” She asked and sat up, Enzo slid down a blanket and tottered off into the distance. “Dino?”

‘What’s wrong?’ she wanted to ask, but as Vic looked at Dino, she couldn’t quite get the words out. Because she could see that whatever was festering under his skin, was far too large to unpack. It had too many layers. One lone issue didn’t make someone’s face that dark and pale.

“Do you…Do you want to call home? I can give you some space?” Vic offered gently. “Call your dad or something?”

Dino flinched. Hard.

Vic snapped her mouth shut.

Then her mind swarmed with memory, scanning every instance she had with Dino, every mention of his family, every giggle of his past. Not once had Dino mentioned his father. Or his mother.

Fuck. Vic had fucked up.

“Or—” she scrambled, nearly biting her tongue in the rush.

“He is, uh…passed,” Dino said, barely above a whisper.

Vic paused. She pulled the blankets around her tighter.

“Oh,” she uttered.

“Last February,” he continued, his hands plucked at the edge of the blanket, pulling the loose tassels. “He got hurt. He didn’t get better.”

“Oh,” Vic whispered. That was recent. “You’re…mum?”

She looked at him carefully. Dino’s nose had started to blush, his fingers worked to untangle stylised knots in the blanket. His voice croaked.

“I was seven,” Dino whispered, and that was all Vic needed to know.

“Dino,” Vic murmured, and Dino shrugged.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Dino, your dad was last year,” Vic said, not at all convinced. Maybe Dino had come to peace with his mother’s passing, but his fathers? She didn’t think he was ‘okay’ as he said he was.

“I am busy. There’s much to do. The Family needs me now that I am in charge.”

Vic held her breath for a moment until she was sure she could let it out without a sound. Her Dino was in charge? Of a whole family? Her Dino, who choked on rice, who cut his lip on his toothbrush, who tripped on shoelaces. Had been put in charge of a whole family — an extensive one if ‘induction’ meant anything (not a cult, totally not a cult unless it is).

“When did you take over?” Vic asked and closed her eyes, bracing for the worst.

“...Last February,” Dino uttered.

He had taken the reigns out of cold hands. No time to mourn.

Vic felt her heart lurch in her chest, and a rumble in her ears. Anger and indignity yanked at her naval as she looked at the papers on the dining table, laptop open, fan spinning fast to cool down after days of almost non-stop use. Her Dino was doing all this. Practically alone, so far from home. And he hadn’t even had the time to properly mourn.

Vic turned her gaze onto Dino.

“Last February,” she echoed out to him. “Fifteen months.”

Dino smiled at Vic, full of teeth and wrinkled eyes. Eyes that started to swim as she stared at him. Brown eyes going blurry until one, then two, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Dino sniffed, loud and full of snot.

Vic pulled her feet up onto the couch, leant back against the armrest and opened her arms to Dino. Dino’s face pinched, his breath shook, and slowly, Dino crawled until he laid himself on her chest.

Vic lifted her chin to breathe around his hair and felt her shirt go soggy as Dino hiccuped and rattled.

Vic liked to think she knew Dino well. At times like this, though, Vic was reminded that she knew very little.

Dino’s dad had died last year. His mother, long before that. And now he was here, alone, the rest of his family in another hemisphere. And there was that whole issue of finances that she knew she wouldn’t ever fully understand the gravity of.

Arms wriggled under her back and Vic felt Dino clutch at her like a lifeline, his watch dug into her ribs and she felt snot, spit and tears smear along her collar.

“I miss him,” Dino wheezed. “I don’t want to be the Boss yet. There’s so much I could do wrong.”

Vic gritted her teeth and pulled the blankets over Dino, the weight pressing down on his back. She looked at the list sitting on Dino’s dining table. A criterion for employment. A jockey selection.

Dino needed jockeys. At least seven.

Vic scanned the criteria, doing her damnedest to burn every detail and refinement into her memory. Cheap, talented, foolish. She felt her stomach roll with heat and discomfort.

Someone to be taken advantage of.

Dino coughed between quiet sobs. His nails dug into her shirt, just short of her skin. Vic pushed her cheek into his hair and squeezed him back, just as tight.

Dino needed jockeys.

“It’ll be okay, Dino,” Vic murmured.

Dino needed jockeys. Dino needed help.

She couldn’t do much, had no idea where to even start. But she could at least look. For her ponyboy Dino.

#fanfiction #khr #leftnotright #ao3 #dino cavallone #katekyo hitman reborn #canon divergence

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