#Peppino is a professional though

[pizzarink]

Made this. Take the shitpost.

[oldmanenjoyer]

https://www.tumblr.com/oldmanenjoyer/720607521000341504/how-about-a-bit-of-angst-with-peppinoxreader-like

That last PeppinoxReader, maybe there’s still hope for Reader!

Peppino rushes them to the hospital to get proper help and he’s given a miracle!

Here’s the link too, for anyone who wants to reread it

You’re bruised to hell, broken by rocks and cement. Peppino hauls you out of the dust, and the sounds your body makes are so worrying. But you’re breathing, puffing soft gasps of air against his neck.

How long will you last this way? He can’t wait around to find out.

Luckily, Gustavo has though ahead, swinging around on Peppino’s delivery scooter just as the man swings around with you. It’s not the best, but it beats running, so Peppino scrambles onto the back and the three of you go flying down the empty roads towards the city, Brick on their tails.

You don’t wake the entire bumpy trip, but your face. . . it hurts to look at. Peppino can’t stand the screwed up expression you wear, the obvious pain you feel. Not even unconscious do you escape it. And it’s his fault.

If only you weren’t involved. If only Peppino thought to seek you out, find you, get you out. There was time, he could’ve managed it, could’ve saved you. Maybe you would’ve swooned then, kissed him in thanks.

But that didn’t happen, and you’re lying in his arms near dead.

Peppino shakes his head. No time, the hospital is in view and he needs to get moving.

Gustavo shouts in shock as Peppino leaps off the still-moving scooter, but he doesn’t care. Peppino runs into the hospital lobby, sending a few people running as he nearly kicks the door off the hinges.

“HELP!” He shouts, so loud the windows shake.

Doctors and nurses and the likes flood in. You’re taken from him, and the lack of your weight in his arms has Peppino spiraling to the floor. Even more professionals move in, worried over his own injuries, far more minor than yours.

Gloved hands lead him into the hospital, and Peppino follows them willingly, if only because it means being closer to you.

His room is nice, once it’s certain he isn’t going to keel over on the spot. It’s a calming yellow color, but Peppino can hardly feel calm when you’re still in such a critical state. He asks after you, but no one knows anything besides the fact you’re in surgery.

It takes hours, but a man walks into the room, sweaty and exhausted just like Peppino himself.

“They’re lucky you got them here so quick.” The surgeon says, and Peppino collapses into his bed. “They’re banged up, really badly banged up. They won’t be leaving for a while, but. . . from what we can tell right now, they’ll recover.”

“Thank you.” Is all Peppino can say. The surgeon nods and leaves.

And Peppino cries. So very, very relieved.

[phonypizza]

@emptyzone crisis averted

... Oh! Oh. It drops all traces of hostility as the stranger explains himself. So this was the little one from before! Yeah, it had definitely taken Fake's advice to heart - though, ah, the former dough prison is fairly sure it didn't cram someone so TALL into itself...

(It doesn't say anything about that, though. Best not to bring it up.)

"You..." It puts a hand to its chin (and grumbles when its hand sticks again, it really had to fix that) while looking 'Peppino' over. Obviously not a one-to-one match, but...

"Yes! Itlooks GOOD! !ollɘd ìƨoƆ" Oops, it hadn't meant to do that, but oh well. "You... look BET-TER than. The oold Peppino."

Better. Yes. Better than. He looked like what a professional should look like.

It tries not to be envious. It's trying so hard...

"SoOo. What willyou do. Now?"

[pizza-games-and-more]

Dame Crevette

"I must say, seeing you in person is appropriately... underwhelming."

A world-famous professional singer, she's been up their with the greatest talents in all fields of the arts. She, in her own words, "know(s) what art is, and what isn't."

Unfortunately for Pepperman, she declares his works not refined enough to be true art. This, as you can imagine, does not sit well with him.

But her snobbery doesn't stop there. She refuses to strike a deal with The Noise for his singing talent show idea, because NTV is, in her words, "immature and pedestrian".

In general, she declares her opinions to be above all else, which she considers "wrong".

Things started to change, however, when she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and found herself in a... very peculiar existence along with the main cast.

Fun Facts

She has a powerful contralto voice, which is part of what led to her fame as a singer.

She dislikes other shrimps due to their abhorrent lifestyle in comparison to hers. She's a snob, but she's not violent.

She's taller than she looks. Since she doesn't usually stand on her tail, she doesn't show her full height. When she does, however, she gives Pizzahead a run for his money!

She claims to fear nothing, only to back off along with Fake Peppino when a cat enters the room.

The cast members of PTTS she's at odds with most often are Pepperman, The Noise and Maria. The only cast member she actually gets along with at first is Gustavo.

Surprisingly, she actually LIKES Noisette's cooking, despite considering her a "quirky character". Others are baffled at how she can stomach it...

If she sounds like an asshole, that's because she is at first. Give her time, though.

[oldmanenjoyer]

Gimmi something angsty like I’ve been digging for that pt wise and I can’t find SQUAT

It started off somewhat normal, if you could call it that.

Stress over debt and bills and such had led to a bit of an episode for Peppino. You did your best to sit through it with him, giving him water and rubbing his back as you tried to get him to breathe with you. But then it wasn't so normal.

Suddenly, he was gripping his chest, dizzy and hardly able to sit up straight, much less stand. It scared you, so bad. You practically dragged the man onto his feet, rushing out to your car to drive him to the hospital (an ambulance bill would only send him into a worse fit, you were sure).

As you drive, Peppino did his best to reassure you through the pain in his chest and the breathlessness in his lungs. Sure, he was scared too, shitless even! But he saw you struggling not to cry while you were driving and suddenly he wanted to push all his worries aside to tend to you.

It wasn't possible, but he did squeeze your hand and smile at you, if strained. And it kinda helped. A little.

You weren't straight up sobbing when you both arrived at the hospital, at least.

The nurses didn't let you follow him into the examination rooms. You had to wait in the lobby with everyone else, other anxious people awaiting news of their loved ones. They watched you pace a hole into the tiles, a few even joined you, if only to help ease their own stress.

Did it help? Not for you, but the others, maybe.

When a nurse finally called your name, you raced after her. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest and also not beating at all. Worst case scenarios flew through your head, horror stories of heart attacks and the suffering left in their wake.

You fretted, hardly able to feel the hand of the nurse on your shoulder, and wondered how Peppino was going to continue if this was well and truly something dangerous. It made you feel dizzy to think about. He didn’t deserve that! Not after everything! And-

“Hey,” the nurse called, and you snapped back into reality, “it’s okay. It wasn’t a heart attack.”

It took a moment for the words to process. But once they did, a tidal wave of relief flooded your body. Tears streaked down your cheeks, and you sobbed to her, so grateful to her as though she was the one who saved Peppino from a nonexistent heart attack.

She chuckled, patting your shoulder as she led you along. “It’s alright. It was just a pretty severe panic attack. He was hyperventilating, and that’s what cause all the symptoms. You did right bringing him here, though. He could’ve fainted and hurt himself pretty bad if he was alone.”

You nodded along. “How is he?”

“He’s recovered. We’ve given him some meds to help him relax, but I’d look into professional help for the future.” She passed you a card with various names scribbled on it. “It could help prevent panic attacks like these, or at least make them less severe.”

You nodded again and pocketed the note. That would be dealt with later. For now, all you wanted to do was see Peppino and smother him in kisses.

The room he was in was dimly lit. Peppino himself was laid out on a bed, eyes closed and breathing slow. A heart monitor next to him beeped quietly not to disturb the tranquil atmosphere.

“He’s been asking for you a bunch.” The nurse whispered to you, as you stood and just took in the sight of him alive and well. “The whole time, really. He wanted you to be there very badly, but sadly he can’t really hold your hand while we’re doing tests.”

You walked forward, another vague nod of your head all you replied with. Your heart ached to think he wanted you there as much as you wanted to be there for him, but such wasn’t the thing to dwell on. Instead, you sat in the chair already pulled up to his bedside and picked up the hand connected to an IV.

“Peppino.” You called, voice hushed and low. He sighed, but turned towards you, brows furrowing. “You asleep, hon?”

It took a moment, but Peppino blinked his eyes open. He focused on you, and you smiled. He smiled too, big and goofy and no doubt pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you said, squeezing his hand, “welcome back.”

He murmured some stuff in Italian from deep in his chest. It was hard to hear, so you just leaned in and peppered the side of his face in kisses. He practically purred.

“Ti amo.” He sighed, and that you understood.

“I love you.” You whispered back.

And you continued to kiss on him until the nurse finally told you it was time to go.