#you can't expect me to believe he isn't real. watching. hearing. helping.

[expressionless-fr]

I wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of him.

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[bluefairyhere]

I think I'm in love (with you)|| Colby Brock

¬Colby meets a girl at a coffee shop. ¬Pairing->f!reader x f!reader ¬w.c 2.3k ¬t.w. SMUT, swearing, Colby being a little agressive, y/n being silly, edging, rough play, unprotected sex.

You can't do it. No. You can't do it. No. No. NO! Was all that ever crossed your mind when you were with your friend Colby. He's a fuckboy, he has no real feelings for you. Giving in will only get you hurt.

You'd had a crush on him for as long as you could remember and lately he'd been giving you mixed signals. Flirting with you in a way he never had before, but then he'd show up and say he had a date with some other girl. At the beginning you didn't think much of it since you figured it was only some friendly, playful banter. But then it started getting more and more serious in a sexually tense way. Right now, Kat, Kris, Sam, Celina, Colby and you were hanging out. You had just finished recording a long video at one of the haunted locations and decided to come hang out for a little bit since you finished way earlier than expected. For now, you were watching a horror movie.

When you'd first gotten there, you sat on the corner on the couch and covered your legs with a blanket. Colby hadn't taken long to sit right next to you while everybody was getting on their sits to watch the already preestablished movie: Sinister. It was a solid re-watch and apparently Kris had never watched it before, so you guys agreed to watch it on your way home. You were on your phone, trying not to pay attention to the fact that Colby deliberately decided to sit next to you even though at the time most of the seats were not taken. Sam and Kat took care of bringing snacks for everyone, and the movie began.

At first, everything was cool. The movie was rolling, Kris and Kat were gasping and you were giggling at how edgy the whole thing was. By the time you reached the half, Colby also got his legs under the blanket and placed a hand on your thigh. You bit your lip, instantly overthinking it and feeling nervous, but you decided to brush it off. The movie went on but you were more distracted with the guys' banter than the movie itself, trying not to focus on Colby right next to you--who was also bantering. And it was working until his hand, which had never left your thigh, suddenly squeezed it hard but not enough to hurt you, however still provoking for you to open your eyes widely. You instantly looked at him, who was casually staring at the movie on the screen while eating some popcorn with his other hand. This. THIS. This you could simply not put yourself through. "Hey Colby, help me make more popcorn in the kitchen?" You asked as you stood up suddenly. The dark haired boy looked confused but nodded and added a "sure" to the gesture. You headed to the kitchen right away---which was a considerable distance away from the rest of the guys---and stood besides the counter, your arms crossed. "What's up?" He asked unceremoniously. Your eyes went wide again in disbelief. "´Whats up'?" you replied angrily. "Listen Colby, I'm fed up with this. I'm not just another one of your girls that you can play and confuse, okay? So drop it."

Colby looked fazed now. He certainly seemed like he wasn't expecting such an outburst.

"Listen, if this was about the couch-" but you didn't let him finish.

"This isn't just about the couch thing, Colby. This is about everything that's been happening lately. The looks you give me, the things you say. Everything! I'm fed up, I don't understand you! You hook up with so many girls, why must you bother me?" Colby looked at you as if you were speaking some sort of different language. "I think I'm in love with you." Was his reply. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Him? In love with you? Imposible. Unthinkable. This had to be some sort of elaborate joke.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked in return, no longer angry but deeply confused as you crossed your arms and looked up and down to him, not recognizing what was in front of you.

"It's just-" Colby seemed frustrated, almost as if he couldn't find the right words, or translate his feelings into coherent thoughts. "It's been a few months since I started thinking this. If you weren't around, I'd miss you. I'd always want to tell you everything about out investigations before anyone, or anything good really. I've been with other girls, I know, but only to try and get you out of my head... which obviously hasn't worked."

"And you expect me to believe this is why you've been all flirty and touchy? because you're 'in love'? C'mon Colby!" You mumble exasperated, so much information overloading you. "That makes no sense, I mean, why did you never tell me if you're so madly in love?"

Now Colby seemed to be the upset one. "Just like you’re doing now, I didn't think you'd take me seriously."

"So you decided touching me just now was a better course of action? Bravo." You were starting to get mad again, you really thought he was not being for real. But what was this then? A prank of some sort?

"I couldn't help it okay?! It's like my body can't help it, I wanna touch your skin... not even in a perverted way. I just... want to be near you, feel the heat of your body."

Okay. Maybe he was serious. There's no way he'd say something like that just because. But then, what did all of this mean? His words left you completely speechless, so you did what any human being would've done---leave the room in complete silence. You went up the stairs and got into the first room you found. You turned on the lights and realized it was actually Colby's. You were about to retrace your steps when Colby came in too and closed the door after himself, looking at you with a dark gaze. "Did you just run away from me?" he asked, visibly hurt "I'm not gonna bite you, I just confessed my feelings for you for fuck's sake."

"I didn't run away, Colby, I just... need to think. Digest everything."

"What's there to digest? I've seen the way you look at me, Y/N. I know you feel the same way, I can feel it." As he said this, he came closer and closer to you, making your body shiver and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Cole." You, however, stuttered. You'd no idea why were you being so stubborn. If he was telling the truth, which it seemed like he was, this was the best case scenario you had always wished for.

"I think you do, Y/N. You're doing it just now." Right after saying that, he leaned in for a kiss.

But he didn't kiss you right away, moreso he waited for you to lean in too. And oh boy did you. You leaned in right away, waisting no more time. Your hands were cupping his cheeks desperately, and one of them passed to grasp his dark black hair, in need of more. His hands were on your waist, bringing you closer to him, your breasts pressing against his chest. You could feel his hardness inimical to your lower belly. You stopped the kiss and looked up at him, your faces only an inch away.

"What are we doing..?" You whispered.

"What we should have done months ago" After saying that he kissed you again, this time more passionately, more instenely. He moved to his front, making you move as well, until you fell onto the bed. "Do you want to do this?"

Did you? That was a good question. You definitely did, but was it wise? Everyone was just downstairs, probably wondering what was taking so long. Plus, what would this mean? Would this make you a couple? You meant, after everything he'd said this couldn't possibly be just sex. But you really wanted to do this... just the thought of his terse pale porcelain skin against yours, his growls and whimpers, his member inside you...

"What does this mean, Colby?" You asked, unable to let your worries go for the heat of the moment. He seemed to think about it a few seconds before answering.

"All I know is you mean everything to me." He replied simply. Did he mean it? You'd known Colby for years, he wasn't the type of person to say things he didn't mean, he was actually known for being very upfront and honest about everything. Okay then, that decided it.

"I wanna do this, Colby. I want to do this so bad, but I don't want it to be meaningless."

Without any other single word, Colby got on top of you and started kissing you again, roughly. You did know he liked his sex rough, which was good because so did you. You could feel his hands going up and down your body, one of them reaching under your shirt and grabbing firmly one of your breasts, pinching your nipple. You moaned against his lips.

Eagerly, Colby broke the kiss and looked at you with lustful eyes. He reached the border of your jeans with his hands and unbottoned them, taking them off swiftly. Now you were only on your panties and top, since you decided to not wear a bra under your hoodie today. You gulped, almost unable to contain your ardour for his skin. But it felt different, it felt... special. This wasn't just any guy about to fuck your brains out, this was Colby. Your friend for years. Your closest comrade. You were a bit scared, sure, but it felt real. And you had a hunch he was feeling the same.

Colby got off the bed and kneeled in front of you, looking at your blushed face from in bewteen your thighs. "May I taste you?" He asked, taking your panties off. You nodded but he shook his head. "I need for you to say it outloud so I know you're sure, I don't want you to regret any of the things we're about to do." 'Everything we're about to do? What on earth is he planning?' you thought. You also loved the fact he was looking for enthusiastic consent, which you immidiately gave. "I do want you to, Colby."

Right away, he buried his face in your pussy and started licking your clit, drawing circles around it with his tongue slowly at first, hightening the velocity by the second, making you moan moderately loudly. With two of his long fingers he started to finger yourself, hitting you with the most magical combo you could've ever dreamt of. You could feel his fingers deep inside of you, and that alone was driving you crazy, but his tongue too? Your moans were getting louder and you were quick to whimper "I'm getting close."

But then he stopped. You instantly opened your eyes and looked at him in confusion.

"What are you doing?" You asked him reluctantly.

"We can't have you finishing so fast, can we?"

He whooped out his enormous cock and pressed his tip against your entrance while he looked at you, silently asking for consent. You nodded your head yes and he pushed. Now his tip was pressed against your entrance and he groaned. "Are you ready?" to which you whimpered a 'yes'.

Without further ado, he pushed his big lenght inside of you, slowly but fully, and you moaned loudly once again. He started thrusting at a slow pace but eventually reaching a faster one, all of his dick coming in and out, his balls creating a noise when they hit your ass. It was all so lewd yet it felt so... romantic. It felt special, real, meaningul. Colby leaned in and kissed you, your tongues sparrings with one another. His hand cupped your cheek lovingly as he fucked you fast and rough. He then stopped and turned you around, which you took as an indication to get on doggy-style and so you did. He started thrusting you from behind and gave you a very light slap on your right cheek. You loved it.

"Harder." You whimpered. And harder he went. He gave you another spank, but this one was loud and hard. You gasped. He then gave you another one and another one. With your hand, you reached to your crotch and started stimulating your clit while he fucked you. You could feel the orgasm building up. "Colby, I'm close." You moaned. Colby's reply was stopping, again, and turning you around.

"I wanna look into your eyes when I make you finish, baby." And now he started fucking you again, but this time it was slower, deeper. He caressed the skin og your breast as if you were going to break, which had an incredible difference with the previous moments. But you liked it... no. You loved it. "Y/N. I'm in love with you."

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body started to shake in a very well known climax sensation. Your moans were incontrollable and you could feel Colby's body tensing and shaking as well. You felt new warmess inside of you, liquid and thick. He was filling you up. Finally, he let himself fall on top of you, softly, and cuddle you.

"Colby."

"Yeah?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He smiled and opened his mouth to say something when the door suddenly opened. It was Sam. As he saw you he seemed to be confused for a few seconds, but then his face turned from that to surprise, and very quickly to understanding, as if he had just connected some dots. He turned around and closed the door, through which you could hear him yell "Found them guys! They're busy."

Everyone downstairs burts into laughter and you blushed violently. Colby just smiled and looked at you. "Totally worth it."

[webslingingslasher]

angel distracting nerdy peter from his homework…. i’ve been dreaming and drooling over this…. she like sits on his lap and kisses his neck and he can’t help but drop his work and give her the affection she so desperately craves……

(i saw u say u don’t get many nerdy!peter concepts so i hope this suffices!)

'petey.'

'angel.'

you pout, he doesn't even look at you. he's landlocked to his desk chair and computer monitor. 'petey,' you drag out the end in a whine. 'yes, angel?'

you want his attention, he's been focused on his homework since you came over. peter might've told you he had homework to do but you were more than welcome to come hang out with him, you just didn't expect him to actually ignore you for it.

'i'm hungry.' if he gets up you can bid for some cuddles, but he doesn't. 'i think may's making dinner right now but if you want a snack go for it.' you switch your methods. 'i'm thirsty.'

peter doesn't look where he's pointing, 'you can have some of my water.' you hold back a dramatic sigh, sometimes he can be a teensy bit dumb. you didn't come over to watch him do homework but he's not getting the hint.

'i'm horny.' bingo. peter looks over at you in his bed before refocusing on his computer screen. 'i'm sorry to hear that.' your mouth parts in shock, peter's never blown you off before.

'excuse me? you're my boyfriend, it's your job to fix it.'

'is it?' oh, he's teasing. he finds this funny. 'when i'm with you, yes.'

'i didn't know it worked like that.' you nod and speak seriously, 'it's understandable, you've never been a boyfriend. but you're doing a great job.'

'aw. thanks, angel.' you wait for him to move, he doesn't. you give him a whole minute before you're questioning him. 'i love you.' maybe you needed to be nicer with the approach, you can see a smile form and you think it worked this time.

'i love you too, honey.' it doesn't. you'll have to take measures into your own hands. 'alright, move over, i'm coming in.' peter backs up his chair just enough for you to slide between the desk and staddle his lap.

'behave.' he's trusting you to control yourself, the teensy bit of dumb is coming out again. you immediately crush all his hopes of finishing his homework when you kiss his cheek and down to his neck.

'angel,' he's warning you. you back off and play innocent. 'i haven't kissed you since i've been here!'

'i kissed you when you got here.'

you straighten the collar of his shirt before lightly tracing his jawline. 'it was a peck. i want a real kiss.' peter narrows his eyes and stares into yours. he doesn't trust you for a second but he's willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

'one kiss and you let me finish my work?'

you'll agree to anything. 'sure.' you move in, peter turns his head at the last second and you hit his cheek again. 'i don't believe you, you're gonna keep asking for more. i know you.'

'well, i'd sure hope so. kiss me.' peter gives in and gives way more than you expected. you're left slightly breathless and feeling warm, it doubles when he shifts you up his lap and wraps his arms around you for a tight hug.

peter said you'd ask for more, but you're not asking. you give little marks to the side of his neck before you graze your teeth against the skin below his ear. peter's breath hitches, you have him where you want.

it's ripped away from you and you can't stop yourself from pouting.

'you're really not gonna kiss your girlfriend?'

'kissing my girlfriend isn't going to make me a physicist.'

you drop your forehead to his shoulder before slumping against him. 'you hate me.' peter clicks his tongue and lightly rubs your back. 'of course i don't, i could never hate you, angel. i'm just trying to finish my work.'

'i just want a little attention, just a little crumb.'

'i'm giving you attention, aren't i?' he is, but it's not enough. you're about to tell him it too but you have one more trick up your sleeve, he's susceptible to your touch but stronger than you think. he's able to push past it. but if you were feeding his ego at the same time he wouldn't be able to say no.

'you are. you just look so handsome today i can't control myself. you know how much i love this shirt on you.' peter takes a second to glance down, he didn't mean to wear it on purpose. 'and you look so hot when you're focused and being smarter than me.'

you give another trail of kisses, tilting your head and ending at his adams apple. 'the more i watched you concentrate... the more i wanted you.' you peck the corner of his mouth, purposefully brushing your lips against his before sighing.

'but if you need to finish your homework, i understand.' you push up to remove yourself, peter stops you with a vice grip on your hips. 'keep talking.' words of affirmation are a sweet spot for him and you're making him feel special.

'you're so tempting. i've never seen anyone hotter than you, i swear. the second i saw you for the first time i felt like i couldn't breathe, and when you asked me out i swear part of me thought it was a joke. because you're like, i don't know, you're magical i think. because you have this ability to be hot and sexy, and handsome, and beautiful, and cute all at the same time.'

peter's cheeks are red, you give him a chaste kiss and keep going. you're on a roll now. 'and don't get me started on the smart thing because i'll start sweating. do you know how fucking ravishing it is to ask you any question and you know the answer? and the tech stuff you do? everytime i see you with a screwdriver i start panting. i was biting your pillow when you built your computer.'

you're telling him how hot it is when he's smart but he's about to ditch all traces of physics for you. you think of another thing and it throws you over the edge, you toss your head back and let out a moan. 'and the sewing? oh my god, that's the absolute hottest thing ever.' you saw him patch up his suit one time but peter snapping the thread with his teeth was enough to make you replay the image every two days.

you can feel peter's heart racing under your hand, you both sit in silence for a few seconds before he pats your thighs.

'you win. being a physicist can wait.' 

[olivethewriter]

Love is a drug

hey y'all this is my first one shot, and I am kind nervous, but I just watched euphoria and thought this would be a good fic idea y/n goes to fez's house and gets drugged by mouse instead of rue leading to a steamy confession

You knock on your best friend Fezco's door. "Fez, open up! It's pouring out here!"

The door cracks open a moment later. "Y/N, you really shouldn't be here."

"Too bad, I'm starving," you reply,making a beeline for the kitchen. You grab your favorite chipst.

"Nah, Y/N, I'm serious. You gotta get the fuck up out my house," Fez insists.

"Man stop stressin," you reply, plopping down on his couch and flipping through the TV channels.

"My supplier's bout to swing by, and I don't want you here when he does," Fez explains, growing more tense.

"I'm hungry," you repeat, munching on another chip.

"Then take the fucking chips with you," he grumbles.

"You're being hella rude today, but—" Before you can finish, Fez's phone rings, breaking the tense silence.

After a long pause, Fezco shakes his head. "I could fucking kill you right now."

Fez heads to the door as you turn off the TV. A tall, tattooed guy, way taller and bulkier than you expected, steps in behind Fez. 

"Well, shit, I didn't know your bitch would be here," he says, eyeing you.

"Nah, man, she's just a friend," Fez replies, taking a seat across from you.

"Well, hello there," the guy kneels in front of you, extending his hand. "I'm Mouse. Pleasure to meet you."

"Um, hi," you mutter, cautiously shaking his hand. His intense gaze makes you uneasy, like you want to crawl out of your skin.

he says, he stands up and unpacks his bag and starts describing its contents.

"Sure you don't want any fentanyl?" 

“Nah man im cool too many ODs” fez says 

“How bout you little lady want any fent?”Mouse asks, looking at you.

"No," you reply firmly.

"Nah, man, she's cool," Fez interjects. You've never used drugs before (besides vaping once), and you certainly don't want to start with something as dangerous as fentanyl.

"You gonna let him speak for you?”you look to fez for help “look at me when i talk to you." Mouse demands. He grabs your chin, playing with your hair.

"Have you ever tried it?" he whispers into your ear. You shake your head, speechless.

"No, for real, bro, I don't want her messing with that shit," Fez asserts, his voice steady but tense.

"Don't look at him. Look at me," Mouse insists, grabbing your chin and staring into your eyes. "Ever tried anything?"

You remain silent, unsure how to respond.

"No, seriously, man, she's good," Fez tries to defuse the tension, but Mouse isn't done.

"You know that feeling when you come so hard you can't hear or feel shit?" Mouse whispers, leaning in close. You freeze, feeling the point of his knife against your glossed lips.

You pray silently. You can't believe you're about to die. But you glance at Fez and open your mouth.

The drug hits you fast. In less than a minute, you're numb, barely able to sense anything. You lie down on the couch, eyes barely open.

"You like that?" Mouse asks, placing your legs on his lap.

"Uh-huh," you mumble.

"Wanna try more?" Mouse offers, leaving light touches on your thighs.

"No, man, she doesn't want any more," Fez says, struggling to keep his voice calm, hiding his growing anger.

"I-I want more," you slur, wanting to feel like this forever. Mouse places patches in your shorts' waistband, his hands lingering on your hips.

"That'll cost you three hundred," Mouse says.

"I'm broke," you manage to say.

"That's too bad. Guess you'll have to find another way to pay," Mouse says, his hand creeping toward your hips.

"Man, don't make her do that. I'll pay for her," Fez interjects.

"Nah, thought you were too good for fent," Mouse retorts. Fez grabs the gun, but ultimately decides against using it. That's the last thing you remember before drifting off.

When you wake up, Mouse is long gone, and Fez is nowhere to be found. You're in Fez's room, wearing one of his sweaters. You get out of bed and head to the kitchen, where Fez is eating cereal.

"I'm sorry," you say, barely holding back tears. Fez turns around.

"No, no, don't apologize. It's my fault. I should've had you wait in another room or just fucking shot him," he says, seeing your quivering lips. He pulls you into a hug.

"That was so scary," you admit, barely keeping it together.

"I know, ma," Fez consoles you.

"I thought I was going to die," you confess.

"It's okay. You're here now, and you're safe," Fez assures you, pulling away to look into your eyes.

"I won't let him hurt you again," Fez vows.

"I know," you whisper.

When you thought you were going to die, there wasn't much you regret. You love your family. You're on good terms with almost everyone. But you had never been in love before. You always thought you and Fez would end up together, and it was only a matter of time. But life isn't guaranteed. Tomorrow might not happen. And the next time you almost die, you don't want it to be without kissing Fezco O'Neil.

You look into Fezco's blue eyes. Without thinking, you ask, "Will you kiss me?"

Fez's blue eyes widen, but he doesn't hesitate. His lips touch yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You look up at him, then at his lips.

"Do it again," you demand.

This time, Fez doesn't wait for you to finish your sentence. He kisses you fiercely. The kiss, sweet and hesitant before, is now intense and passionate. Teeth clash, and tongues wrestle as you try to get as close as possible. His strong hands wrap around your waist, and your arms tighten around his neck. You step closer, until every inch of your body presses against his. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He moves one of your hands from your waist to your neck, pressing a little harder. You let out a small gasp, pulling his face back into yours and kissing him harder. Your hands meet behind his neck, and unexpectedly, he bites your lip and looks into your eyes. You let out a whimper, but your phone dings.

"I need to get that. It's probably my mom," you sigh, disappointed that the moment is over.

"Yeah, of course," Fez says, setting you back on the ground. You look at the message from your mom, telling you to let her know if you're going to stay overnight at Maddie's house and come home.

"I'm so sorry. I have to go," you apologize.

"Okay, let me walk you out."

When you two reach the door, Fez speaks up. "Listen, I really like you. I want this to happen again. Can we do this again but not just like hooking up and shit? I want it all."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Fezco?" you ask, smiling.

"I mean, I guess, if you want to be," Fezco says, looking down and fiddling with his hands.

"Of course," you say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Y/N," he says, watching you walk away, the ghost of your kiss lingering on his lips.

[eitaababe]

EVEN IF IT'S A LIE !

chapter nineteen. tables turned.

[ a/n ; wowza i literally died anyways last part and then epilogue!]

[ warnings ; lil bit of cursing and a mention of virginity lol ]

series masterlist. | previous / epilogue

— written portion below.

you miss the way spiders face falls at your truth, but his tone hides it all too well.

"no," he breathes out honestly. "even- even if the whole thing went down the way it did, your truth is still your truth."

you laugh humorously, wiping away a few tears. "i probably sound crazy, huh?"

"you're not crazy for being in love, y/n," spider laughs with you, a hint of longing in his voice. "and you can't control who you love. and if you believe that someone can feel the same way about you, i can't blame you."

"you ever been in love, spider-boy?"

he peers down to look at you, really look at you, and he's grateful that you're too busy hiding your puffy eyes to notice the soft look in his eyes.

"yeah. i have."

"lucky girl." you smile at him, and spider can't help the way his heart squeezes when he looks at you. because he knows how you feel— it isn't the same.

because spider looks at you as if you're the world, and you look at him like just another friend.

and he hates that ao'nung wasn't smart enough to take the opportunity right in front of him.

— written portion.

"hi."

the one voice you've been dreading to hear, the one that used to whisper sweet nothings into your ear at night, is one you now wince at. you're met with ao'nung's tired eyes, and id you had any energy left, you'd be mad that he looks just as miserable as you.

"hey." is all you can bring yourself to say back, silently inviting him inside. he wastes no time, stepping in and letting the door fall closed behind him, sighing as he stands there— awkward and out of place.

and it doesn't feel right, seeing ao'nung without his confidence.

but as you watch him quietly, you realize, *maybe this is truest side of him you've ever gotten to see.*

"i-" he starts, breaking the silence before closing his mouth. you let the quiet brew even more, letting him collect his thoughts.

"when i said i love you, i really did mean it-"

"i don't care if you meant it or not," you snap suddenly, and he realizes that your silence is a lot scarier than what he originally thought. "you could tell me it over and over again and i honestly don't think it would make a difference right now."

"y/n, please-"

"for once would you shut up and just listen?" you say exasperated, needing an outlet for everything you've been feeling. "imagine getting asked out, falling in love, getting your fucking virginity taken, just to find out it was all a lie! and then you think coming over here and saying 'i love you' is gonna fix it?"

"i know it doesn't," ao'nung shakes his head, distraught as tears start to well. "and i know none of it was right. i'm not expecting to fix any of this but if i could do it again," he pauses, reaching for your hands. "then there's not a doubt i would."

you immediately retract your hands, scoffing. "stop," you say, voice quiet. "stop trying to justify yourself. you made a mistake. and not the type you can fix."

"so that's it? this is all- we're just- done?"

"there is no this, ao'nung. don't you get it? none of this was real. you made sure of it."

"please." he begs hopelessly, eyes shut.

any other day, any other time before this, you would've begged to have ao'nung like this. to have him pleading for your love and a chance to be with you.

but you know better now.

"you need to go." there’s a sense of finality in your voice, and ao'nung knows there's nothing he can say or do to fix this.

"i really am sorry, just know that," he says as he walks towards the door. "and whether you believe it or not," he breathes out shakily, at the doorframe.

"i love you."

you watch him slip out the room, and effectively out of your life.

[🏷️ ; taglist. / closed ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @halibanana @aonungmyaddiction @teyums @lightskinloak @ipoopedmypants47 @aonungmybf @il0veheartz @chittakii @jjkclub @universal-s1ut @ilovejakesullysdick @calums-betch @izuoyarmin @yeosxxx @cl0esblogg @alwayswndr @iheartamajiki @jenniferdixon05207 @manumanulau @myh3artttt @ilupearls @sugarrush-blush @be3flow3r @cupidsl0ve

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3

The next time that Eddie sees Steve Harrington, the entire world has gone to shit. He has a broken bottle pressed against his neck and God, he's fucking terrified, half convinced he's going crazy and half convinced that some invisible thing is going to break him into pieces if he so much as closes his eyes and half convinced that Harrington is here to beat the shit out of him for Chrissy's murder and fuck, he doesn't want to die, he just wants all this to stop -

But they believe him.

Impossibly, they believe him, and they all act like this is old hat. This group that has no reason to be friends - the D&D nerd, the skater, the band geek, the jock, Jesus, add in Eddie as the criminal and they're a knock off Breakfast Club - they look at each other with world weary eyes and resignation, and then they all gear up and say let's go.

Easy as that. Just, the world is shit, the monsters in the dark are real, and the four of them sigh and unite together without question.

And then - yeah, they're on his side, and the food situation is a lot better than it was a day ago, and he's pretty sure he's not crazy, but aside from sporadic check ins, he's still very, very alone out here in the boathouse.

He can't sleep, he can't do anything to help himself - just like he couldn't do anything to help Chrissy - he's just a fucking wreck -

And then Jason Carver and his merry gang of freak hunters find him, and he's about ninety percent sure he's going to die out here on Lover's Lake.

But he doesn't.

Patrick McKinney does, floating above Lover's Lake just like Chrissy had in his bedroom, and this time when he hears the crunch of bones snapping it seems to echo even louder, all across the lake.

He shoots terrified eyes towards Carver, and for one stupid second he - he's almost relieved. It wasn't just him this time, bearing witness to something so horrifying. Someone else was here with him, someone else saw it too, and for an even stupider second he thinks maybe Carver will get it now, maybe he'll pull a Harrington and they can unite together against the monster doing this.

But Carver turns on him, clearly needing to blame it on someone he can see, and Eddie - well. Eddie's always been good at being the freak.

Good at running, too, and that's what he does again.

He spends a truly horrific night in the woods, terrified and alone and convinced every sound is Jason Carver or that thing coming to get him, more sure than ever that this is it, this is how he dies.

But he doesn't.

He reunites with the party, and tries not to let it show how fucking relieved he is - makes his dramatic entrance, all boisterous bluster, hoping none of them can see the fear in his eyes behind his wide smile.

The trudge back through the woods is as miserable as Eddie expected, but it's still worlds better than last night. At least now he's not soaking wet and cold and losing stretches of time to sheer terror.

At least now he's not alone, and he can distract himself by people watching.

Max and Lucas are walking together, clearly having some kind of serious discussion. Not quite an argument, he'd guess, though he can't hear what they're saying - a little lovers' quarrel, maybe? Probably, he concludes, when they separate, Lucas hanging back looking dejected and Max stomping off ahead.

He sees Harrington look between them, brow crinkled just a little bit in thought.

It isn't cute, Eddie reminds himself, and turns to watch Max instead. She's staring right at Harrington with a very clear fuck off vibe, and Eddie, drama magnet that he is, has to slow back a step or two so he can see them both.

Harrington turns his entire upper body towards her, walking without looking where he's going, which feels like a fucking recipe for disaster, but it just makes Max roll her eyes at him. Her eyebrows shoot up, and she pointedly flicks her gaze back in Lucas's direction. Harrington tilts his head, the bitchy are you for real expression that Eddie's moderately familiar with slotting easily into place.

Max sighs, her expression fading into something more sincere and shoulders dropping. She shakes her head at him, and this time her gaze lands on Lucas for a long, drawn out moment.

Harrington's already moving by the time she looks back at him, falling back to go join Lucas's side where he's kicking at pinecones as he walks.

For a moment, Eddie considers picking up his pace to go join Max, but she puts her headphones back on and hunches in on herself, clearly needing a few minutes alone. Normally, Eddie wouldn't involve himself in what may or may not be some freshman lovespat, but fuck, he desperately needs a distraction, so he keeps sneaking glances over at Harrington and Lucas. Whatever discussion they're having, it's clearly intense, but it still catches him off guard when Harrington suddenly plants himself in front of Lucas and forces him to stop.

Eddie stumbles to a halt, watching as Harrington cups the back of Lucas's neck and drags him in, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Lucas's shoulders hitch, like he's barely holding himself together, and Harrington gives him a little shake, sets them swaying back and forth for a moment.

Fuck, he shouldn't be watching this. This looks like it goes way beyond whatever on again off again thing Lucas and Max have going.

Of course, the second he has that thought, either something in the wind shifts or Harrington's voice picks up, because he can hear him saying, "This is not on you, you hear me? None of this is on you. And as the king of fuck ups, I'm something of an authority on the matter."

Eddie hurriedly lurches himself forward again, feeling ashamed.

A few minutes later, he sees Lucas walk on ahead, watches him connect with Dustin and Max to form a loose little trio. He expects Harrington to go up even farther, join up with Wheeler and Buckley, but he hangs back, all but falling into step with Eddie.

Huh.

"He okay?" Eddie asks, physically unable to stay quiet anymore.

Harrington sighs next to him, but it sounds sad, not aggravated. "They're just kids," he says, softly. "I keep hoping, you know, this time it'll be done, and they can just worry about the stupid stuff I did when I was their age, but-"

He gestures in a manner that Eddie takes to mean but all of this bullshit.

"I just wish the only thing we had left to talk about was why did you break up and how to get the girl and who didn't support who at what."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. The implication that a bunch of nerdy freshmen come to Steve Harrington for that kind of stuff - that he wants to talk to them about that, that he's the one they rely on - it'd been hard enough to hear coming from Dustin, but seeing it in action?

He's already had enough of his world view rocked in the last few days, he really doesn't need this too.

"He knows," Eddie starts, and then stops, unsure if this is so incredibly self centered of him - then pushes forward, because he keeps hearing none of this is on you and he feels like he needs to say it anyway. "He knows I don't blame him for the hunt the freak shit, right? That none of it's his fault?"

There's a flicker of surprise in Harrington's eyes, and then he's looking at Eddie all soft and warm like he did something right, something good, and oh, fuck. It shouldn't be anything, it shouldn't mean anything, but - God, what the fuck has Eddie ever done right in his life? The last few days have been nothing but reminders that he's a screw up, that he runs when people are in danger and leaves them to die, that half the town he grew up in believes he's capable of brutal, sadistic murder.

The last few days, he's been looked at with a never ending cycle of suspicion, anger, disappointment, pity, concern - and here Steve Harrington is, looking at him like he did something worth being proud of. It makes him want to go belly up, spread out and lay in it like a cat lounging in the sun.

Shit shit shit shit.

He does not want his soulmate to be Steve Harrington, he doesn't.

"He should," Steve says. "But he could probably use hearing it from you anyway."

"Right, yeah, of course. I'm just gonna-" Eddie waves up ahead. "Go. Do that."

He launches himself in what he hopes is actually the direction where Lucas is before he can make an even bigger fool of himself - though it's kind of too late for that, considering he trips over a fallen branch and only just manages to catch himself before he ends up face first in the leaves.

Eddie lurches and flings himself around, playing it up and making it look intentional as he slings an arm around Lucas's shoulders and shoots a wild grin at the little trio of freshmen.

"You ladies mind if I borrow Sinclair here for a minute? No? Excellent."

Max rolls her eyes at him and he can hear Dustin going, "ladies?!" as he drags Lucas off, but he ignores both of them. Lucas is so tense under his arm that Eddie drops it away from him once they've gotten a few paces away from the others, and then the kid watches him, eyes sharp and wary and wide.

It's not fear - not of Eddie, at least - but it's something close enough to it that it makes his stomach turn. He hadn't planned on what he was going to say before he just threw himself over here, and for a moment he panics a little.

"What you did was pretty awesome," he finds himself saying.

Lucas looks at him like he's not sure he heard him right. "What?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, gaining momentum now that he knows how he wants to handle this. "Sticking with those guys as long as you did to get info on their plans, using your survival knowledge to lead them off in the wrong direction? Very ranger of you, Sinclair. Guess I owe you one, risking yourself like that."

It's clearly not what Lucas was expecting, and there's a moment where his expression is pretty blank - Eddie's not sure if it's because he's trying to process what Eddie said or because he isn't going to accept what Eddie's doing, offering out this olive branch.

Eddie does what he always does when he's nervous.

He plays it up, raises his voice a little as he crows about having a ranger on your side as you trek through the woods, spinning it into a tale of bravery and throwing in enough exaggeration that Lucas finally laughs, shoving Eddie away and telling him to shut up.

If this was the lunch room, or a session of Hellfire, none of the freshmen would've dared do anything like that. And Eddie'd liked that, liked being respected and revered and leaving everyone with a sense of trepidation, all falling in line at his word - until he knew them well enough to know if they could be trusted, if he could let them in to see the real him underneath all his bravado.

It's just that there's not many that he's ever known well enough for that, and maybe he hasn't let himself really think about that before, but he is now.

It's just he likes this better, he thinks, because having Dustin and Lucas push each other and push him, all three of them trying to simultaneously be quiet enough not to call attention to themselves but loud enough to be heard over the others does a whole hell of a lot more to take his mind off the way Chrissy and Patrick's bones sounded as they snapped right in front of him than just about anything else.

It's just that when he looks over to where Steve and Buckley and Max are walking together, he sees Steve watching them, a soft little smile on his face, and it doesn't fade even when their eyes catch.

He doesn't want his soulmate to be Steve Harrington, he reminds himself.

—

And then they're at the lake, and Steve Harrington is shirtless and diving into the water, and then shirtless and ripping apart a demon bat with his bare hands and teeth, and then shirtless with blood and ichor dripping out of his mouth and down into his chest hair, and then shirtless and putting himself in front of him and Buckley and Wheeler with a look in his eyes like he'd rip apart anything that even tried to come for them, and -

Fuck.

He kind of wants his soulmate to be Steve Harrington.

Taglist (please let me know if I missed you, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void

-----

Part 7

[notdiabolika]

What do you think would happen if yui suddenly shrank ? Like if she got cursed by the potion that shrinks her what do you think would happen?

What if Yui became VERY small? 🌸

[Português]

A man's voice resounds through the empty church: "Confess your sins." Bare feet walk on the icy ground, It’s covered in shattered stained glass windows A strange painless path, To the silver bottle on the altar. "Drink me," the note reads.

The flavor is strange, But as soon as the last drop touches her lips The maiden opens her eyelids And finds darkness again ——

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"This... Is a dream, isn't it?"

So confused, she slides her hands through the covered fort, discovering that she almost drowned in it as she emerges. It's tiny. Getting out of bed would be an arduous task of ziplining through the sheets, so she sat on her pillow until someone came to see her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened... I just had a weird nightmare and... I woke up like this."

She tells the Sakamakis everything she has seen in an exasperated tone. It's only a matter of time before everyone else finds out what happened.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"What? Don't tell me you became small because of a dream..."

He lets out (at least) a nasal laugh when he hears this story while finding it scary. Whoever is behind this is quite powerful, and childish too.

"I think that is what you get for hanging out with vampires like us... You know, it is more comfortable to hear your voice like that, quieter."

Despite his comments, he strives to keep her safe. After all, if something happened, "the responsibility would fall on my shoulders.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

“... Do you seriously drink from an unlabeled bottle and expect to have no side effects? What nonsense."

He is disappointed and even angry with the situation, believing it would be easy to avoid. 

"Luckily for you, potions rarely have lifetime durability, so I believe the effects are not permanent. Anyway, I'll seek an antidote."

Having access to several books and archives, he does intense research work to make her body return to its original size as soon as possible.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Pancake, you're the size of a cockroach..."

Will he bully her? Of course, because "it's your fault for being so careless". But the truth behind his dry banter is that he's stressed, thinking about how he will keep something so small safe.

"How do you expect Yours Truly to drink your blood like this? What a pain... You better get back to normal soon!"

Ayato will fight for mini Yui's attention anyway, he doesn't want her fleeing to any other guy at a time like this.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"How DARE you do this to us?! What will happen if Teddy needs sewing? Uu... you're so selfish..."

First, he cries, because the sweets she bakes, the tea parties, and all the other plans she made for the two are ruined.

"You know... I might as well crush you with the sole of my shoe. But I will have mercy... if you fit my dolls' dresses, of course."

He starts treating her and playing as if Yui were a real doll, and if she cooperates, he may become more lenient. Or not.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Aww... little bitch looks so adorable... It seems like you will need our help for a long, long time."

He finds the situation funny instead of complaining and teases her a lot for having fallen into such a trap.

"What's it like to watch me be so much bigger than you? Does this size difference make you excited? Fufu... It's a shame there's nothing we can do like this."

A fraction of him is satisfied by caring for Yui, stroking her head, and helping her get around, even if it's problematic. Maybe he would even feel a little vulnerable and sensitive for that reason.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

“... What the fuck? How did this happen?"

No one is more confused than him. Now Subaru has to ensure his brothers don't hurt such a delicate version of Yui.

"Give her some space! She can't breathe with all of you taking her oxygen and talking like a bunch of parrots. It's even hurting my ears."

Definitely takes the prize for being the most stressed out in this situation, can't wait for Reiji to find an antidote because he can't take this anymore and it’s only been five minutes.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Choosing Sakamakis to answer that request was definitely a big mistake XD

The monologue at the beginning had a slight reference to the plot of Lunatic Parade, so consider this mess a whole work by Count Walter. How small Yui actually got is debateable, and I wouldn't take the boy's words at face value.

I would like to thank the anonymous person who sent me such an exotic idea, it was fun to explore and think about how they would react.

Have a nice day ✨

[jayswritings13]

TMNT 2012: Turtles saving reader

Request: "Headcanons of 2012!Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey react to Reader being at awe when they saw him and thanks him for saving them?" by Anon

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

Leonardo

"You're amazing, Leo."

Made him feel like a real hero for once.

Not that he'll exactly admit that.

But ever since he was little, he dreamed of this moment.

His smile will never got any bigger than it did just now.

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't." You said, grabbing his hand, "I mean, you and your brothers just came in and made sure that I was okay. I have never met anyone like you. Someone who will selflessly save others."

"I mean--You don't--I-" Leo stuttered, shocked.

He knew what he and his brothers did was selfless and heroic

But hearing someone he cares about say all of that more?

He is absolutely on cloud 9, but will not tell his brothers that for the life of him.

Besides, he quite literally watched Raph get a lecture from Master Splinter about not letting the heroism of their work get to him.

So, he couldn't let it show to the others

But by the look of your face, he knew that you could tell.

"Thank you, Leo."

".....You're welcome."

Raphael

"That was amazing!"

"I know." He said with a huge grin.

Yeah, he's one of those.....

He know how amazing he is and is not humble about it in the slightest.

Which has led to many talks and lectures from Splinter and Leo

Besides, he's not about to deny your praise.

That would be rude of him.

Though, after a little while of knowing him, you know that this is a front he puts up.

",,,,,,do you really think that?"

"Wha-" You paused, quickly understanding what he was referencing. "Of course I do."

Silence

You've never seen him grin so much.

"Please," You rolled your eyes, "like you don't already know." You laughed.

"Oh I do," Raph smirked, "And I know. Just different hearing it from someone else for a change."

What he doesn't like to say is how much your praise and affirmations mean to him.

But something tells him that you kind of already know.

Donatello

Donnie isn't always one to boast.

Well, unless it comes to his scientific interventions and other discoveries.

OH HE WILL GLOAT AND HE WILL EXPECT PRAISE BACK

But, his fighting skills?

He's never really given them much thought.

Well, he has, but he wasn't about to brag about them.

After all, he knows that he's not the strongest fighter.

Which has never bothered him actually, since he knows that he excels in other areas that his brothers don't.

So, in the same vein as Leo, he's a little shocked when you bring attention to it.

"Oh-" He said, "I mean I guess. I never really thought about it like that much. But you don't have to thank me for that stuff all the time. It's just what we do."

He's lying.

He wants verbal praise so badly and you are fully aware of that.

Which is exactly why you don't listen to him when he says this and continue vocalizing your praises to him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Y'know for what." You grinned, noting the small smile from Donnie. "But, thank for helping me the other day. You are amazing."

Michelangelo

Mikey has no filter and no chill when it comes to..... well, most things.

And his fighting skills is definitely under that category.

He's not shy about exclaiming how awesome things are.

But, he's also not entirely used to hearing that reciprocated back towards him.

Afterall, Master Splinter always emphasized that it was wrong to brag about that type of stuff.

Well, outside of training praise of their fighting skills was rather frowned upon.

Much like his brothers, Mikey did so anyway.

Or at least wanted others to see how cool this talent for fighting was, besides his brothers that is.

He was more vocal about it than Leo wanted him to be.

So hearing you vocalize that praise was a welcome surprise.

One that he never turned down or dismissed like he was taught to.

"That was incredible! I can't believe you just did that." You said.

"That's what I've been trying to tell the others!" Mikey smiled brightly, "They don't listen to me!"

"I mean it, Mikey. That was amazing and you are too."

You never saw him smile as much as he did in that moment.

It was then that you made a mental not to praise him a little more often than you already do.

[the-obiwan-for-me]

Hi! I’ve just read the She Said the Word series again, and I was wondering what domestic life would be like between some of the characters. Bo and Tol’ket, Obitine, Korkie and Aled, for example, but I am also aware both Ursa and Bo-Katan and Korkie and Ahsoka lived together for a while. I’d just love to hear about your idea of what sort of shenanigans they got into, and also basic things like who made caf in the mornings.

I understand this is a lot to ask for and you’re probably much too busy, so there’s no pressure to answer from me.

Thank you so much for writing such a beautiful series!!

Hello there! Thank you for being such a fan! I can't believe this summer will be FOUR YEARS since I began writing this series. (To anyone reading this) please never hesitate to ask me questions about this story and these characters. I may have slowed down a lot in churning out content for them, but they are no less dear to me and I LOVE talking about them.

Yes, Ursa and Bo were all but platonic life partners for a long time, even before Pre died, and definitely in the subsequent years between his death and Bo and Tol'ket getting together. Because Ursa had Sabine on Concordia and was away from Alrich, Bo stepped in and helped care for baby Sabine (which we do see in SSTW). Because of how they lived (in barracks on a base) there wasn't a lot of domestic life to be had, but they spent their downtime together when it corresponded.

Korkie and Ahsoka's years together I think were probably a lot like what you would expect between a rich kid and a self sufficient worldly kid living together. Korkie had minimal real life skills and Ahsoka spent the first few months hating living with him because of it. But he eventually begged her to teach him and it got much better from there. His saving grace was being a neat freak and a good student. She taught him the basics of cooking, and then he became an expert home chef, surpassing her very basic skills. Despite preferring tea to caf, like both of his parents, he learned how to make a mean pot of caf so Ahsoka always had a great caf in the mornings. She could never quite master it, to her annoyance (though her caf did get better than the absolute trash she grew up drinking during the war).

I think Obitine's domestic life is probably not one where either one have to perform any real measure of domestic duties. Which is probably for the best. Satine and Bo were raised in a noble family that held a lot of power and both girls were accustom to being cared for. I think they were taught traditional things, which included camp fire cooking and basic Mandalorian cuisine, but they really never had to learn to cook, clean, etc. Obi-Wan, while more sufficient thanks to a young life in the Order, probably still doesn't know a lot more than Satine (just enough to be extremely grating when they were very young, prior to falling in love, and probably for a long time after that, too). But, as adults, as planetary leaders of a thriving society, they don't need to do much other than make some tea and try not to make the lives of the staff that cares for them miserable (with the exception of Obi-Wan leaving clothes everywhere- that's canon- I think they are probably very neat and very easy to work for). Their sweetest, most domestic thing is that they both know how to make each other's tea perfectly, especially Obi-Wan, who can steep it, fix it, and hand it to Satine at exactly the right point.

Bo and Tol'ket live two very different versions of domestic life from the time they marry until we see them again in MTB. Bo is handier than Satine due to her life in Death Watch, but really isn't to be trusted in the kitchen much beyond the basics. But she also is freakishly tidy and a bit of a clean freak. The problem is that Tol'ket lived a very solitary bachelor life and was rarely at home longer than a night's sleep and shower. He is NOT neat and there were some serious growing pains in that respect. It was never enough to cause strife, but he did drive her slightly insane the first couple of years. His apartment they shared was tiny, which only made his bachelor habits more apparent and, at times, obnoxious. After he becomes prime minister and they move into the grander house that comes with that position, it gets easier. There's a very small staff, and some tensions are relieved. Tol'ket does cook (he learned from his grandfather), and enjoys it. Bo makes the caf, especially since she's the early bird in their relationship.

Korkie definitely ends up teaching Aled a lot about domestic life because Aled was a street kid then lived in Protector barracks. He had no clue how to be an adult with his own space nor how to prepare food beyond a sandwich. It was a steep learning curve, but thankfully Korkie is a good teacher.

Thanks again for this fun little thought exercise! Maybe it will jumpstart my brain into writing again!

[juicezone]

Hi hi! Here for rambling :D Babysitter being forced to play make believe and realizing, 'ah shoot, do I regress?...' meanwhile their poor caregiver is watching in the background like 'Do I need to be concerned? I think I need to be concerned' because their game of make believe is just a very much what happens when kids play through their trauma. Anyways just been working more on my own oc's and posting stories on my blog for them and yeah take a little sneak peak of my babies :3

“What are you three doing?” Their game is cut off by a disbelieving voice, three pairs of eyes whipping up to stare at the adult who walked into the room. Cassandra stares back at them, hand on her hip and confusion written all over her face.

“Umm… playin’ house?” May says, sounding less than confident. Lawrence nods- and Tristan… Tristan is pretty sure he wants the floor to swallow him whole.

“Dear Lord… I’m not dealing with this… I can't deal with this...” Cassandra mutters under her breath, not that it helps, she’s still loud enough to be audible. “You kids will be the death of me…”

Tristan can watch in real time as the elder woman gathers herself. He joked along with the others that most of the crew enter what they call ‘mother hen mode’. He’s never been on the receiving end of it. Never realized just how soft her features turn.

“Let’s play a different game for a while, hmm? One that isn't so..." She seems to struggle to find the right words. "I just don't think it's a good idea anymore.”

And where he’s fully expecting her to turn, ask for him to maybe help carry the other regressor, clean up the toys, something, even just to leave now that she's here- instead Cassandra's face softens, humming questionably as though to say ‘now how do you fit into this…’

The problem is, he doesn’t. He doesn’t regress, doesn’t need to, doesn’t want to. He’s no caregiver either, terrible with kids that aren’t his sister. There is no reason to be here and no reason that he isn’t saying anything. No reason as to why his heart is beating erratically, no reason why he feels so exposed.

And because his brain decides to betray him further, his first instinct is to tip his head forward, hide his face behind his bangs and the stuffed animal in his lap, not helping his case at all.

“I was forced against my will to be here.” He mutters, because maybe if he could just explain-

“Of course.” Cassandra says not missing a beat. Nodding seriously in a way you might to appease a child.

It's infuriating, because it's wrong, and it makes him feel, feel... small. He doesn't know if he wants her to keep being kind or to quit acting like he's included as one of her kiddos.

okay this was long- I am sorry >///< (hides away now)

NO DONT BE SORRY I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND IM SO EXCITED TO BE SEEING MORE AND HEARING MORE ABT YOUR OCS!!!!

literally always feel free to be like tl i posted a story abt my ocs or i posted an art of my ocs like in my dms and ill zoom over to find it as soon as i see it and this honestly goes for anyone who wants to share something idk i just. i rlly genuinely love seeing ppls creations and ocs (fandom ones count too idm if idk the fandom)

OKAY BUT

ive said it b4 i think one of my fav things abt ur writing is how quick and easy it makes it to grasp the context of the story, even just from a blurb, and how you write out the emotions with descrptions that its like. idk. its so understandable and clear cut to me at least, esp that last part of Not Knowing what you want

thank you so much for sharing mayliz i love it <:)

[midnightdevotion]

Lost

Part 3 of the safe series

Warnings: Domestic Violence, angst

2.3k

a/n: I've never been so nervous to post something in my life, I hope you guys like it! ps it is not proof read.

It's been three weeks since you got that text, and you haven't relaxed since. Constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting on bated breath for the ball to drop. You felt bad for relying on Bradley so much, You've only known the man for four months and yet here you are essentially living with him and attached to his hip whenever he isn't busy with work.

You're terrified he's going to get sick of you, that he will realize maybe you aren't worth all this trouble. It would be so much easier for him to go find someone else with so much less baggage.

"I can hear you thinking from over here honey, whats going on" Penny's melodic voice breaks your toxic thought process.

"I just- I hate being such a burden" what you don't expect is the scoff that comes from her mouth.

"You are not a burden, everyone adores you and we all want to help." you sigh at her words, of course it's not that you don't believe her, but years of abuse and being told you aren't worth anything is hard to unlearn.

Continuing your busy work of cleaning glasses for when the rush starts coming in soon, trying to just turn off your mind. You and Penny work in seamless harmony, getting everything prepped and you are so thankful for the woman who's humming under her breath next to you.

"Excited to see Mav?" you question, letting out a real grin as she shoots you a glare.

"You know it's not like that" She quips back at you, but you just laugh.

"Oh really, so Amelia didn't see him climbing out of your window two nights ago?" When you see her shocked face looking at you, you can't help the laughter that bubbles out of you. You missed joking around with penny like this, hating that for the last three weeks, almost all happiness drained from your bones. She playfully whips you with her rag, as you wiggle your eye brows at her.

"Oh stop it" It's rare to see penny so shy, she clearly has real feelings for maverick, but you knew that the first time you saw the older pilot walk through the doors.

As if fate designed it yourself you see from the corner of your eye, your favorite group of aviators walk in. As Mav makes a beeline straight for Penny and you can't help the whisper that escapes you.

"Not like that my ass" and you know Penny hears you because she bumps her hip into yours, before focusing all the rest of her attention on the handsome pilot. It's not two seconds later your own handsome pilot makes his way to the bar.

"I forgot you were working earlier today, was sad when you weren't home" The way he refers to his house as 'home' for both of you has your stomach in knots or maybe those are butterflies? He watches as you flush behind the counter.

"I- um...how was your day" you finally land on, and you ignore the way his lips tilt up. He knows you well enough to know that you aren't good with emotions, and anything that makes you feel flustered is even worse because of what you went through.

"It was great sweetheart, better now though. How was your day" and he knows he lays it on thick but he can't help it, he loves the way you flush and the way you glance up at him through your pretty lashes.

"Oh um, good mine was good" and he loves the small smile that pops up on your face. He's hated that the last three weeks has taken away your smile. You already reach for his regular order, and he's grinning at you when you hand him his usual beer.

"I've got a surprise for you after work" and your head tilts to the side in question.

"Bradley you don't need to do anything for me" you can't help the guilt that swallows you whole. He's already done so much to help you, and you feel like you haven't done anything for him in return.

"I know sweetheart, but I wanted too" his hand wraps around your wrist, gently rubbing his thumb over the inside of it. You can't look at his eyes and you are genuinely thankful when Hangman calls him over to play some pool. Giving you a reprieve from the suffocating feelings you feel for him.

The night is going smoothly, busy enough that you genuinely forget the chaos that your life is at the moment. You felt refreshed, yeah your night wasn't peaceful physically by any means but after three weeks of your thoughts eating you alive, having a break from that felt energizing.

"pens let me" You gesture to the trash bags she was about to pick up, she raised her eyebrow, almost questioning if you were sure before she decided to let you.

You grab the heavy trash bags and head around the back of the hard deck. Flipping the lid to the large dumpster, you start throwing away the bags one by one. You're humming Great Balls of Fire under your breath, not focusing on your surroundings at all. You know you should've been more cautious.

You feel a hand wrap around your face and cover your mouth, effectively muffling the scream you let out. You know exactly who it is when you smell the tangy smell of sweat and cigarette smoke. It makes you want to vomit. You feel him push you up against the wall of the dumpster. The terror running through your veins more than ever before.

His left hand still pressed against your mouth, and you feel tears leaking out of your eyes, praying penny notices that you're still gone. His other hand is squeezing your wrist tightly, and you are not foolish, you know it's because that's where Bradley last touched you.

"you stupid little bitch. Thought you could get away from me." His breath smells like Whiskey and it makes you cringe. "I'll remind you who you belong to"

That's when your instincts finally kick in, for the first time ever it's fight. You bite down on his hand, disgusted by the taste but nothing is going to stop you now. You bring your leg up and knee him between the legs. He lets go of you in surprise and you take off. You're almost around the corner when you feel him grab your wrist.

You try some of the moves Bradley taught you one slow Sunday at his place, ramming your palm straight up into his nose. It doesn't slow him for long, he throws you onto the ground. You scramble to get up, not giving in like you use to. He sends a devastating blow to your stomach and blood is dripping out of your mouth.

He pulls you up by the hair, before he throws you back against the ground. Not expecting this your head slams against the ground. Your vision goes blurry, and you are crying harder. This is it, you know it. That's when you hear it. The man you love's voice, panicked.

"Get the fuck away from her" and you've never heard that level of anger come from the sandy haired pilot. You see penny rushing to you, but your vision is starting to go black. The last thing you register is Bradley tackling your ex to the ground.

____

Earlier in the day.

Rooster had an extra skip in his step today. The private investigator he hired had recovered some evidence that might be enough to get your piece of shit ex arrested. Even hangman couldn't get under his skin.

His day only getting better when he sees you teasing Penny. He hasn't seen you be yourself in weeks and it was killing him slowly. He was excited to tell you about the private investigator and tell you the good news. Hoping you would be happy and not mad at him for hiding this from you.

He let himself get called away from the bar, even if he wanted to get lost in you forever. He is having a good time with his fellow aviators. Always volunteering to go get the refills, everyone knew why.

It had been time for a refill when he looked back up and noticed you weren't behind the bar. He furrows his brow, thinking to himself that you must just be grabbing something from the back for Penny. However, when he catches her eye, she looks worried. He pushes through the crowd in a quick manner.

"Penny where's-" he doesn't get to finish as she talks over him.

"she took the trash out Rooster- it's been too long." that's all he needs to hear. Rushing out of the bar and towards the trash cans, he hears your sobs and his heart is racing.

He doesn't pay any attention to who follows him out of the bar. His eyes land on your form, seeing crimson drip from your lips and Rooster has never wanted to kill someone until today. He takes off towards the man standing over you, and tackles him to the ground with a force that he's never used. Immediately situating himself to throw punch after punch to his face. He's soon pulled off by Jake and Bob, barely registering anything happening around him. He's frantically looking around.

"Bradley!" He finally focuses enough to hear mavericks voice calling out to him. Everything is moving too fast and in slow motion all at once. He looks over to see Penny crying and she's on the phone with her hand to your neck.

It's like he had ice dumped over his head, all the anger he was feeling moved to the back burner as he was overtaken with horror that you might not be okay. He shakes off the other aviators and rushes to you, grabbing your hand.

"please baby you have to make it through this, you can't leave me, not now..not like this" and he feels like it hurts to breathe, and his heart is aching in a way he's not familiar with, and Bradley Bradshaw is very familiar with grief.

The ambulance arriving leaves Bradley watching them put you onto a stretcher, loading you into the back quickly and next thing he knows the sirens are blaring and you're being driven away from him.

Maverick is quick, moving to support Bradley and he barely even registers being taken to his car. The police are arriving and he knows they will need a statement later but he doesn't give them a second glance.

Maverick puts him into the passenger seat, quickly rounding the car and he's not even sure when maverick got his keys from him, but the older father like figure is pulling out of the parking lot quickly.

"Don't let her die dad" and Rooster is sure this has to be a fever dream, praying up to his dad is something he does in any hard or scary situation but nothing compares to the fear he is feeling in this moment. Maverick swallows hard, he didn't know you and Bradley were a serious thing, but seeing his godson with distant eyes and shaking hands he knows, Bradley is in love with you.

When they get to the hospital, Maverick makes him get his hands checked out. Useless if you ask Bradley, he couldn't care less about his hands at the moment. Being given the clear that his hands would be find, no breaks and no stitches needed.

He rushes back to the waiting room. This has to be torture. Every time a doctor walks by he holds his breath. The entire waiting room is filled with the rag tag group of aviators from the dagger team plus Penny and Amelia.

It's 9 agonizing hours later when a doctor finally walks into the waiting area. When he hears your name being said he shoots up. Not a single soul breathes as they await to hear what is happening with you.

"She took a really hard hit to the head which is where most of our concern is. Her ribs are bruised and her wrist is sprained, but she cracked the back of her skull open when she hit the ground. She has a severe concussion and we are worried about swelling. Right now she is in an induced coma, to try and combat the swelling. We estimate that it should go down within a week, but if it doesn't we will have to take her in for brain surgery" It's like the ground is stolen from beneath him. He nods his head, and thanks god that Maverick is there, because he is asking the doctor questions.

"when can I see her" Bradleys voice is raw, as he chokes out the only question that he has on his mind.

"Well, normally we wouldnt allow visitors with it being past 2 am but, if you are quiet we will let you see her, just one at a time though." the Doctor answers. Rooster can see the sympathy in her eyes but he doesn't care, all he has wanted since your hand was ripped away from his was to see you.

He's nervously tapping his hand against his leg as the elevator takes him up. Floor 11. The doors finally ding and he rushes out, frantically looking for room 1118. When he finds it, he stands directly outside the door for a good five minutes before working up the nerve to push it open.

When he does, the tears that have been openly going down his face all night rush out faster. He sees all the cords and iv's sticking out of you and it makes him feel sick. He slowly makes his way over to you, gingerly grabbing your hand.

He just sits there, forehead against your hand for what has to be an hour, tears streaming down his face. The last thing he remembers before passing out holding your hand is mumbling the words "darling please- I need you to be okay- please please please" and feeling so lost.

____

Taglist:

@lunamoonbby @m3laniehearts @frenchtoastix @gspenc @n3ssm0nique @isieoop @rintheemolion @tooflef @justanothermagicalsara @halo-mystic @ladym-17 @captainmarvelnerd @alanadetigy  @luckyladycreator2  @multiplefandomsmess  @tkmarvel-divergentbish @ohh-to-be-a-frog @roosterschanelslut @kayleegrace117

[alexiethymia]

on that confession

first, to get everything out of the way. I AM SO GLAD TO BE PROVEN WRONG. young-woo really does want to be in a relationship with him, because whose example does she follow to get him to fall in love with her (not without a lot of help from Hairy aka ra-mi's boss aka I can't believe I still don't know his name)? she copies the same actions of jun-ho that made her fall in love with him in the first place, and I just find that so sweet.

second, on min-woo. he's still on thin ice, but I love the hint of having a mentor like atty. jung can help steer people to the right path and be better than they were (although it still would have to be min-woo's choice). atty. jung makes a great point about how he didn't penalize min-woo for his actions either, which really proves that he's not giving special treatment to young-woo, but merely following his mentoring philosophy. we had so little of su-yeon, but what little we had was glorious! eat your heart out min-woo! I actually do not mind the su-yeon x hairy agenda, but the implication that young-woo may intentionally have been trying to dash min-woo's chances before he even starts is hilarious to me because it makes absolute sense. from her perspective, no way would she give up her spring sunshine to a jerk like min-woo. so again I reiterate, he better shape up soon (meanwhile it's min-woo who finally gives jun-ho the push he needed. haha irony).

third, on jun-ho. THE THIRST REMAINS REAL. you think you're so slick. he could have totally gotten that eyelash on the first try, but he just kept making an excuse to see how near he could get again. it wasn't that clear on that first watch, but I think his hands were hovering on her waist again? The thirst remains real, for jun-ho, and for me. this better not be one of those dramas where there isn't even a kiss (seriously I blame Law School and Secret Forest)! and I really love these subtle progressions in their relationship, like how jun-ho starts getting closer, and how young-woo has started letting him.

fourth, on acts of service. his confusion was adorable. his jealousy was adorable. as expected it flew over young-woo's head, but I really love how it wasn't this toxic thing. it was more like he was playacting, but ultimately he couldn't help his smile seeing her so happy. the acts of service from young-woo's end were such a big deal to me, because they show her interest. her talking about different things during lunch aside from whales, and asking about whether he likes pickled radishes show to me a willingness to want to change, to meet him in the middle so to speak. so really, the hesitation mostly came from jun-ho's side (although by the look of the next episode, young-woo might face difficulties again. I'm sure they will, but they can always handle it together).

I love the slight subversion of gender roles. From su-yeon aggressively pursuing love, to young-woo pulling out jun-ho's chair and opening doors for him. and I love that the reason jun-ho gives for wanting to be on the outside is not some rubbish excuse like 'you're a girl', but practical ones, and that when he rants, it's not because he feels emasculated or anything, but that he's just adorably confused, because he seems to me like someone who relies on acts of service, like he really wants to be doing things for the people he loves. those little actions are concrete things that he can do for her. add in that of course anyone would feel embarrassed by having the object of their affection do things for them, and I was just cheering young-woo, because you go girl! give him a taste of his adorable and confusing medicine. at least jun-ho had the benefit of knowing young-woo liked him (which she reaffirms! gosh I love our straightforward girl), while young-woo was right to be perplexed at not hearing an answer but still continuing to be treated that way by jun-ho.

and now to the confession itself. I AM DECEASED. ep 7 gave us flirty jun-ho, while ep 9 gave use Jane Austen desperately confessing jun-ho and I am all for it (he had no right to don that absolutely relieved puppy face). in ep. 7, it was night time and they were wearing opposite colored shirts (blue and red), while in ep. 9 it's daylight and they're both wearing green which shows that they're finally on the same page. I love that he confessed where they met, and after she was remembering him too ('1-2-3'). and honestly, it's no wonder that he loves her as much as he does because she is amazingly brave - from the little things to attempting the revolving door without him and going out of her comfort zone to big things like her finally doing what the letter reminded her to do, 'to be more than a competent attorney who only wins in court'.

the lead-up to the confession was also perfect. as expected, he really was thinking deeply about it. his line of 'she's not someone he can start things with the mindset that it won't last ' had two implications. one, of course, was that he was still contemplating what su-yeon said, but the other might be that his feelings had already become that serious. min-woo jokes about marriage, but notice that jun-ho didn't exactly say no or scoff at it.

besides being a bit of a romantic, I think jun-ho is the wrong genre-savvy. he's been approaching this like a kdrama (ha!) and looking for romantic cues. he keeps waiting for a grand moment. as he said, he keeps feeling he has to have some great determination, maybe because he thinks that's what young-woo deserves. but he shouldn't underestimate those small and ordinary moments either, like young-woo doing those things for him just because she likes him.

he keeps getting thrown in over his head. because young-woo keeps on reaffirming that she likes him, and keeps on being nice to him and wanting to spend time with him because she likes him. the same that he'd be doing so far when it comes to her. but it's not as if she's demanding an answer. and knowing young-woo, even if by chance her feelings happened not to have been requited, I don't think she would treat jun-ho drastically different.

so ultimately, it's about jun-ho. what he wants. and just as with su-yeon, despite all of the concerns he's thinking about, he exclaims passionately that his feelings aren't temporary, that he wants this to last.

and in the quiet, he has his answer. no matter what happens in the future, he knows that in the now, he just wants to be with her. with no grand gestures, he just runs to her in home clothes, just wanting to bare out his soul to her immediately, and he looks so, so relieved when he finally does.

(and despite him being on thin ice, I love that it was min-woo who simplified things for him. to add, I know it was the production team who decided it, and it's supposed to be his hair was windswept after running all the way there, but it's also mildly funny for me thinking that despite his rush, he had enough time to fix his hair before he met to confess to his crush haha)

[marvelogic]

UGLY LOVE - Chapter 1

a/n: HERE IS THE FIRST CHAPTER OF UGLY LOVE!! its finally here!! I hope you all enjoy and if you wish to be tagged please let me know! Sorry for taking so long!!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words: 3k+

Summary: When Y/N Stark finds airline pilot Bucky Barnes passed out in front of her apartment door, it is definitely not love at first sight. They wouldn't even go so far as to consider themselves friends.

Warnings: Cursing, Alcoholism, Angst * I think that’s it, if I missed something lmk*

| material list |

| Teaser | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated! love you*

"Somebody shot you in the neck, young lady."

My pupils widen, and I quickly turn toward the elderly gentleman wearing a pilot cap. I watch as he presses the elevator button to the next level and faces me.

"Your birthmark." he says.

Out of instinct my left hand reaches up behind my neck.

"They say when you die your birthmark is a symbol of your passing. So I'm guessing you got shot in the neck. At least it must have been a quick death."

A small smile graces my face, but I don't know if I should be entertained or rush to the front doors.

Although his shaky, curvy posture and wrinkly skin, says he isn't a day over 70.

"Are you heading towards the twenty-first floor?" he says while walking towards the cherry red chair in the corner of the lobby. Grunting as he slumps into the chair, giving direct eye contact to me.

This man I barley know, knows what floor I'm heading to, even though this is my first time ever stepping foot into this building.

"Yes...sir?" I say cautiously "By chance do you work here?"

"As a matter of fact, I do"

I turn my head towards the elevator. Thirteen more floors to go. I hope it goes quickly.

"I just push buttons for people to go up and down. Not sure you can call that a real job, even though I've been doing this since I got to that age where they believed I couldn't do much. But I do refer to myself as flight Captain, considering I was a Pilot back in my golden days. Now I send people up as high as 32 flights in the air."

I couldn't help but let a small smile grace my lips when he said that. We talked for a while and I couldn't help but laugh at some of his antics, realizing the elevator doors open. I turn to reach for my bags and look up to him one more time.

"What's your name?"

"Stan Lee, but you can call me Cap." he says "Everybody who lives here does"

"Do you have any birthmarks Cap?" Chuckling he says, "As a matter of fact I do, one right in the ass. That must have been a slow and painful death for me." I couldn't help but laugh and salute him on my way into the elevator doors.

I begin walking into the elevators with my luggage. Heading towards my floor. I didn't expect Tony to be living as an..adult. The last time I visited him he was whoring around with a new women everyday in a small two-story sketchy complex. What I sure wasn’t expecting was a high-rise smack dab in the middle of downtown Brooklyn, Seattle.

As the elevator doors are closing, a hand immediately presses in between causing the door to reopen. A tall rugged man with light brown hair and a stubbled beard entered. "Thanks cap." He says before entering, although I can't see cap I hear him grunt something. He didn't sound so enthusiastic as he did with me a while back. He turns and gives me a knowing smile I know all to well. I see him slip his left hand into his pocket, eyeing his wedding ring.

"Moving in?" he asks, bluntly. His eyes roam my body from head to toe, stopping at my chest. Then back up to my face.

"None of your business." I reply coldly

He laughs

He thinks I’m joking

But there is no way in hell, I'm allowing him to know where I'm going. Especially if he's a married man. I feel bad for his wife.

"I could help with those" he points to my bags at my feet.

"It's fine, I've got it." I look towards the elevator numbers hoping they would move faster.

He reaches over me and presses floor eighteen. Four more floors to go.

The elevator stops at his floor and before he walks out he turns to me. " Catch you later, y/n." he winks before getting out of my view.

I frowned knowing the two people I interacted with know who I am, yet I don’t have a single indication of who they are. Finally the elevator reaches floor twenty-one and I pick up my suitcases and walk out. I begin looking at all the numbers on the doors. I'm not sure if it was 1989 or 1999. As I’m walking a guy passed out in front of door 1989 was in the way of the entrance. While I check to make sure it's the correct number Tony texted me last night, I look down at the guy asleep hoping this isn’t the room number.

Please don’t let it be 1989.

I read the message on my phone and cringe.

Of course it is..

I slowly walk to the door and try to go around hoping to not wake him up. His legs are sprawled out in front of him, and he’s leaning with his back propped on Tony’s door. His chin is tucked uncomfortably on his chest, and he’s snoring.

“Hello?” I say in a whisper hoping to ease him awake.

He doesn’t move

I step back and gently tap on his shoulder with the tip of my toe.

Still…nothing

“I need to get into this apartment.” He groans and slowly opens one eye. He looks at me up and down then he closes his eyes and he begins to snore again. Great.

Tony won’t be back until tomorrow so I dial his number and hear it ring.

“Y/n?” He answers without a hello.

“Yes sir” I reply and I hear him groan on the other side “I made it safely from my trip, but there’s only a slight problem. There’s a guy passed out drunk in front of the door. And I cant make it inside. Um..recommendations?”

“Eighteen Twenty-nine?” He asked “Are you sure you’re in the right apartment?”

“Yes”

“Are you sure he’s drunk?”

“Yes”

“Huh, weird.” He says “ What’s he wearing?”

“What does his clothing have to do with anything?”

“Well if he’s wearing a pilot uniform, he probably lives in the building.”

Oh.

“He’s wearing a dark grey shirt with blue jeans. No uniform.”

“Can you get passed him without waking him up?”

“He would fall into the apartment if I open the door.”

“Go to cap, I told him you were coming.” I sigh, because I just came from a long drive, and what help would a 80 year old man do.

“Just stay on the phone with me, until I’m safe inside the apartment.”

I like my plan a whole lot better. I put my phone between my ear and shoulder. I dig through my handbag to find the spare key Tony gave me. I unlock the door and begin to slowly open it. Except, the guy falls every inch I push it open.

“To bad he’s wasted.” I say “he’s pretty good looking.”

“Get your ass into the apartment y/n.” Tony says

I roll my eyes. He is still the over protective brother, he was when I was younger. When I moved in with him back then, it was constant fights but that’s just any type of siblings to be honest. That’s why I was kinda sketchy on moving in with him. However, I had no time to find a job, get an apartment, and settle into my classes in time. So this will have to do.

I’m hoping we have matured enough. I’m twenty-four and Tony’s twenty-six. And if we can’t act like adults, then we have a lot of growing up to do.

It really depends on Tony if he’s changed, since we last lived together. He was always the protective one around me. He always watched who I dated, who I made friends with, always wanted me home at a certain time, always knew where I was. I guess that’s what big brothers do.

I pull my purse around my shoulders but it gets caught up in my luggage. I slide it off and place it on the floor.

“Tony, I’m gonna have to hang up so I can move him, he’s to heavy.”

“No! Don’t hang up y/n! Stay on the phone with me until you get into the apartment.”

“Okay fine, but your going in the bra.” He makes gagging noises, while I put my phone between my boobs.

“Alright buddy, sorry to disturb you but I gotta get into the apartment.” I crouch down so I’m able to move him to the side, after awhile I move him enough for him to sit against the doorframe, allowing me to push open the door.

As I get back up to grab my stuff

I freeze

I look down

“Let go of me!” I yell, using my other foot to kick him off of me. He’s gripping me so hard I’m sure it’ll bruise tomorrow. While I try to remove myself from his grip, I fall back into the apartment.

“I need to get in there.” he mutters. Just as my butt meets the floor I keep trying to pry him off me. He attempts to push the door wide open which send me into full panic. I pull both my legs into the apartment and attempt to slam the door but I slam it shut on his wrist.

“Shit!” He yells. My foot is pressing so hard against the door, he fails at pulling his hand back to him. I slowly release enough pressure for him to take his hand back and slam the door shut. I’m breathing so hard my heart is literlly screaming at me.

Like I physically hear it saying “Y/n!? Y/n!?” In a deep male voice that sounds all to familiar?

Tony?

I forgot about my phone and pull it out of my bra.

“Y/n! Answer me! Damn it!”

I wince at his aggressiveness and bring the phone up to my ear.

“Tony?”

“Jesus Christ, y/n! You scared the hell out of me!!”

“I’m fine.” I say breathlessly “I locked the door, and I’m in the apartment.”

I get up from the floor and begin to move inside the apartment. Until I go to a halt. I realize what I have left outside in the hall.

“Um…Tony?” I pause “I may have..sorta left some of my belongings outside…” silence…that’s all I hear for a while. “What did you leave outside?” He sighs into the phone.

I don’t want to answer him but I have no choice. “My purse..” “Why is your purse outside in the hallway!” he says “..and the key to the apartment.” I ignore his previous remark. I hear him sigh “Jesus Christ y/n..”

“And my luggage” I say in a low voice. He groans. “Let me call Bucky, see if he’s home yet.”

“Wait…who’s Bucky?”

“He lives across the hall from us. I’ll give him a call, but whatever you do, don’t open the door!” Tony hangs up and I slide down the wall, next to the door waiting for his call.

Two minutes later, Tony calls back

“Hey?”

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

I wonder why he always says my name when he calls me. I mean he called me in the first place.

He lets out a sigh “What’s wrong?” I ask

“I got a hold of Bucky.”

“Great! When is he coming? Is he gonna help me get my stuff?”

Silence, followed by a long sigh

“Not exactly,” Tony says “I actually need you to do me a HUGE favor…”

I drop my head against the door. Living here with Tony will consist of a lot of favors, considering he’s doing me a huge one for letting me stay here.

“What do you need?” I ask him

“Bucky kinda needs your help…” he trails off

“The neighbor in front?”

Tony let’s out a big sigh “ I need you to open the door and let him in…let him crash on the floor or the couch. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. By then he’ll be sobered up and he’ll head back to his place.”

I shake my head although he can’t see me “ What kind of apartment complex do you live in? Do I have to come home expecting to be assaulted, by every drunk man who happens to be passed out in front of your door?”

Long silence “He assaulted you?”

“Well no…assaulted is a strong word. All he did was grab my ankle.”

Tony sighs on the other end of the phone.

“Y/n, please just do me this solid favor and call me when you get him and all your stuff inside…please.”

“Ugh fine” I tell him before hanging up.

I put my phone on the kitchen counter and make my way back to the front door unlocking it. The minute I open the door the drunk guy..I mean Bucky has his phone on his shoulder and it slides to the floor.

“You’re not Tony??”

“And you must be Bucky…” I mumble more to myself then to him

“I’m your new neighbor, Tony isn’t home right now but I’m going to get you inside.”

I shove him by his shoulders so his back is against the wall. I attempt to get him up but he weighs a ton. So I grab him by the arms and drag him inside.

After what felt like hours his body is in the hallway of the apartment complex. I walk back outside and grab all my things from the floor and head back in, locking the door on my way.

He hasn’t moved an inch from the floor, so I set my things down and get ready to move him to the couch.

“Okay, this isn’t easy so when your sober enough you owe me big time.” I tell him after some time. I swear he’s taking all my energy out of me but eventually, I get him in the couch and head to the shower.

About fifteen minutes have passed when I come out to check on Bucky. I head back to the living room and he’s gone. I walk to the kitchen and Bucky is there hanging by a threat off the kitchen island on the edge of the stool.

“Bucky?” No answer.

I walk closer to him and tap his shoulder and he nearly falls to the ground but I’m quick enough to put his arm over my shoulder.

“Alright buddy let’s get you back to the couch.”

“Bucky” he slurs.

I look down at him confused and he mumbles

“My names Bucky.” I hold in my laugh while we head towards the living room “It’s Bucky, not buddy.” He mumbles.

“Okay Bucky, let’s get you back on the couch.”

The second I sit him on the couch he looks me dead in his eyes. His eyes are Marian blue like the ocean. I could stare at them everyday, all night and never get tired of it.

“Okay Bucky, you have to get some sleep.” As I’m walking away he grips onto my forearm tightly causing me to a halt.

I try to pull away but fail miserably considering he is way stronger then I am.

“Natasha, don’t,” he says sounding so desperate trying to pull me with him on the couch.

Sighing “I’m not Natasha,” pulling from his iron grip.“It’s y/n.”

I go to the room to retrieve a pillow for him. I return handing him the pillow only to watch, he’s now on his side with his face against the cushions. He has a deadly grip causing his knuckles to turn white. I though he was gonna throw up. Only, I was wrong.

He’s not sick.

He’s crying.

Violently.

So hard I can’t even hear him let out a single sound.

I’ve only known the guy for a couple minutes, but he is obviously devastated. My first instinct is to walk away and give him some privacy, but my heart is telling me I need to stay and comfort him somehow. My whole life I’ve been good with avoiding peoples problems and dealing with my own, but he looks so vulnerable right now.

I lower myself to my knees inches away from his face and tap his shoulder. “Bucky?”

He slowly lifts his face from the cushion and inhales deeply. His eyes are blood shot red and he looks broken. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or his result of crying. “I’m so sorry Natasha.” He looks me dead in the eye and reaches for my hand. Then with his other hand he reaches to the back of my neck and pulls me in for a bone crushing hug.

I don’t know who this Natasha chick is, but he must have hurt her and vise versa. “I’m so sorry.” He says pulling me from my thoughts.

I don’t know what’s going on but he’s hurting really bad, and if he’s hurting real bad, then she’s probably the same way. I want to look through his phone, find her name and give her a call. Maybe she could help make amends with him. Instead, I grab the pillow I brought earlier and put it under his head.

“Go to sleep Bucky”

His eyes are so full of pain. “You hate me so much, it’s all my fault,” He releases a heavy breath “Please, don’t leave me.” His eyes finally fall shut and he releases a shaky breath.

“I’m not going anywhere” I say faintly, although he’s already asleep. I wait a few minutes before I pull myself from his embrace.

Although, he’s asleep he somehow looks like someone who’s world just crumbled on him and is in immense pain. His face is scrunched up and his breathing is unsteady.

For the first time, I notice a scar across his jaw that goes down his neck, about six inches long. It stops roughly three inches from his lips. The feeling in me wants to touch it so lightly and trace it, as if it was the most delicate thing in the world. Inestead, I stroke his hair, trying to ease him more in his sleep, even though he probably doesn’t deserve it. This guy may deserve every bit of remorse he’s currently feeling for whatever he did to this girl Natasha, but at least he’s feeling it. I have to give him credit for that.

I get up and make my way to the room to give Tony a call telling him I’m okay and got Bucky in safely.

I look back before I enter the room and I see he looks more relaxed then he did five minutes ago.

Whatever he did to Natasha, at least he loves her enough to regret it.

a/n: and that’s it for chapter one!! what did you guys think? if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!

Taglist

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @themorningsunshine @therealhawkguy

[itsfookingloosah]

uhhhh rambheem’s first hug anyone?

tagging:- @eremin0109 @manwalaage @darlingletshurttonight @contemporarykafka @rambheem-is-real @lil-stark @sinistergooseberries

The very first time they hug, the night is dark and the stars are bright and Ram hates it.

He is lying on his bed by the window, a clear view of the cloudless sky taunting him with memories. Memories of his 6 year old self lying beside his father on the khaat. Memories of his father pointing to the different constellations and telling him its names and the stories his father had told him. 

If Ram thought about it strongly enough, he could almost breathe in the slight smell of gunpowder Baba always gave off and could almost feel the rough calluses of Baba’s hands when they held his own small ones. He could almost hear the affection in Baba’s voice whenever he talked to Amma and the complete poison in the same voice whenever it was raised against the unjust. 

Load. Aim. Shoot.

Three words. Three words that he has based his entire life around. Three words that he has wrapped around his heart and never let its beat escape the confinements of his mission.

But in hours like these, he wishes. He wishes that things could be different and every recollection he had of Baba was not tainted with blood and sacrifice. He wishes that the first image his mind conjured up whenever he thought about Chotu wasn’t him lying dead beside Amma. He wishes that he could believe that the fire lit inside him wouldn’t eventually end up burning him too.

The sound of his door being thrown open snaps him out of his thoughts.

He doesn't get up, just angles his head to the side to get a look at the only person he knows who enters his room without knocking. 

As usual, Akhtar removes his chappals right in the center rather than the side. As usual, Akhtar doesn't even spare him a glance and goes directly to the kitchen. 

“You know,” Ram says, removing his hands from the back of his and shifting to sit upright, “sometimes I think you come to my house only to raid my kitchen.”

After a few clinks and clanks of utensils, his friend finally pokes his head out, his recently washed curls and beautiful face visible through the doorway. “Bhai, you say that as if my motorcycle is not the only mode of transport you have.”

He huffs out a small laugh at that and watches as the man grabs his plate and comes to sit in front of him on the bed, crossing his legs and digging into his food.

Ram can't help the smile that manages to find its way to his lips. Isn't this exactly what he is fighting for? To preserve moments like these? Isn't this what every single fight that ever happens is about? The hope that when it finally gets over, one can go home and remove his shoes by the door and sit on his bed and eat with his hands?

Yes. This is exactly what he is fighting for. 

Akhtar looks up from his food and furrows his brows at the look he is on the receiving end of. “Is there something on my face?” 

Freedom. “No,” Ram answers.

“What’s with the look then?”

“There’s no look.”

“There is definitely a look.”

“Focus on your food.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“It's nothing.” Ram shakes his head. “Just something to do with my father.”

Akhtar tilts his head to the side, in the way he always does whenever he is listening to something intently. It is a look Ram has grown used to but not all immune. 

“My father had a lot of expectations from me,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “Sometimes I wonder whether I would be able to live up to them.” He looks out of the window, closes his eyes and pretends that the slight caress of wind is his mother’s song lulling him to sleep. “Sometimes I wish he was there to see it if I do.”

Warm fingers press against his open palm and not for the first time, Ram admires the way their hands perfectly entwine with each other. He expects the slight squeeze on his wrist that has turned into a form of reassurance in their friendship. He expects the other hand to come up and cover their linked ones. 

What he doesn’t expect is the hug that comes after.

Akthar’s arms wrap themselves around Ram’s shoulders and every single thought flies out of his head. Ram doesn't remember the last time he had been hugged like this.  Ram doesn’t remember the last time he had been hugged at all.

“He is proud of you,” Akthar says and there is no room for contradictions in his voice. “Wherever he is, he is seeing you and he knows that no matter what you do, you will never fail him.”

Ram just wraps his arms tighter and pulls him closer, letting himself get lost in the surety of his friend’s words and the warmth of his embrace.

Months later, when he is standing on a wooden platform and a thorned whip is ripping the flesh from the same friend’s body, and he is one step closer to completing his father’s expectations, he lets himself complete one last thought. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to. 

[littlest-dark-age]

Damiano david headcannons

Tagging @daddydamiano @noshame-bb @mywritingonlyfans

Translations 1, my soul 2, angel 3, my love 4, my life 5, little star 6, puppy 7, bunny 8, sweetness. Please let me know if any translation is incorrect.

Damiano would always be pressing kisses into your soft skin, wherever he could reach at the moment. The two of you are cooking and you have a huge sleep shirt on that reveals your shoulders? Kiss. You're fiddling with his hands out in public due to nerves? He's kissing every finger while looking you in the eye with a grin. You'd think he's convinced its a carnal sin to not kiss you every five minutes

He would beg you to do his makeup, constantly. He loves the intimacy of it, you usually sit on his lap for it and the way you gently cup his strong jaw turns him into an absolute puddle. You lose count of how many times you have to make him look back at you because he just wants to close his eyes and sink into the warmth you radiate. But you can't be mad at him, not when he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes, shining with love.

Damia would absolutely give you one of his rings, and if it doesn't fit your fingers, no worries. He'll just give you one of his chains to put it on. He loves to kiss it when you wear it, whether it be on the chain or your hand. It always makes his heart skip a beat, a claim to the world that he was the lucky one to capture your affections

Please play with his hair, please. He will turn into a puppy the minute your nails graze his scalp. It doesn't matter the length, he loves it. His eyes slowly shut as you scratch at the shaved sides but he'll deny that he's about to fall asleep. 

Spa nights. Just, spa nights. He will let you put the cute animal headbands on him to keep his hair out of his mask, even letting you put it on him. Dami would love to watch movies like Legally Blonde and Clueless while you paint his nails and the glittery mask on his face dries. Never wearing a shirt, saying he wants skin to skin with you as he raises your shirt up to your chest so the two of you are pressed together. He'd sit on the floor, letting you work the hair mask through his hair as the first movie goes off and he starts to hunt for another, one of his hands stroking your bare leg.

Sleepy make out sessions are his favorite, after he's had his tea and the two of you are dead tired but can't stop. Even going as far to tell you that the two of you really should go to bed, as he's sweetly kissing you. There's no rush to it, no need to hide away your love as it's just the two of you. Locked away from the rest of the world, where damiano david is just yours. Where his nose keeps bumping yours just so he can hear you laugh and have you rub your own against his, like a bunny. His hands snaking up the back of your shirt to stroke down the length of your spine with the tips of his fingers. Barely enough for you to be able to feel it. 

If you were okay with it, he would absolutely want to tattoo you. He would never pressure you to if you really didn't but he would try to convince you if you were on the fence about it. If you let him pick, good luck. It would either be something like 'i am yours', which he would get a matching one. Probably around his heart. Or it would be something for måneskin. To have something he worked so hard on, permanently on someone he loves so so much would have him ecstatic. 

The pet names. They're never ending and ever changing. He says he can't help it and that he just says what comes to mind when he sees you. Whether that's anima mia 1, angelo 2, amore mio 3, vita mia 4, stellina 5, cucciolo 6, leprotta 7, or dolcezza 8. You never know which one to expect but they all bring a smile to your face, nevertheless. 

Damiano would always ask your opinion on his stage outfits, not really for reassurance but more so to involve you in every possible thing he can. He loves your input and always takes it into consideration. And you help him remember some things, like something might make him too hot or might restrict his movements on stage. The practical things he doesn't always think about, more focused on the look and aesthetic of it. 

Pictures, pictures and more pictures. He loves taking pictures of you doing the smallest of tasks, especially for when he has to be away from you. If you hid your face, he would still adore the photo but pout a bit because he couldn't see you. Even if photos could never compare to the real thing, in his words. He just wants you to be able to love yourself the way he loves you. He doesn't care about some imperfections, they're what make up you and everybody has them. So, it's probably easier to just let him have his pictures. 

His lockscreen is a picture of you and him with the cats piled up between the two of you. You didn't even know he took it until you went to check something on his phone for him. Dami says you look so peaceful in it, pressing a kiss to the cat's head with your eyes closed, and that it always helps him calm down when he looks at it. That it reminds him of home when he's not there to hold you on the nights on the road. Although, his wallpaper is an entirely different story. A bit more...spicy, if you will. It's a picture of you laying in bed wearing black lacy lingerie with a camera in your hand, and Damiano's legs are able to be seen straddling your waist.

He might not always be able to call or facetime during a tour but believe it when he makes those calls worth it. He loves to be able to call you for hours at a time and if time zones allow it, go to sleep with you on call. If not, that's okay. He has your time zone saved in his clock so he can always be sure to send you a goodnight or good morning text, even if it's a bit late or early. Damia needs to have that little slice of normalcy to keep him from going crazy during the tour. He lives and breathes music, don't get me wrong. But you are his soul and his mind, without you, there would be no music. 

If you're out with the band, he will pull you as close as you'll allow. Even onto his lap if it's a more private place or just you and the others. But this also means you'll be poked and tickled the entire night, even if you slap his hands away. He can't keep his hands off of your ribs, no matter how sore his hands get from your smacks. He compares it to when a kitten nibbles on them.

Damiano needs to be convinced to take a break and slow down, often. He gets so swept up in it that he doesn't realize he hasn't had a proper meal in a couple of days or that he's been skimping on sleep to write lyrics and play around with harmonies. Getting him out of the studio is hard, but much needed. He will appreciate it, as well as apologize for neglecting you for the past days. A nice date or just something to get him outside is just what he needed. No matter how casual it is, being able to relax and spend some time with you is one of his favorite things to do.

Some of his favorite dates are the ones where the two of you are able to just do something and have a good time without the pressure of having to dress up and get ready. He still uses the heart shaped mug you made him on one of your dates, still listens to the record you got him when the two of you got all of your favorite albums and swapped. He still has the tickets from the first movie the two of you were able to go and see together, stuck in between the worn pages of some old book of italian poems he's had forever

His love language is a mix of acts of service and gift giving. He loves to give you little trinkets and stuff he finds while on tour, each item reminding him of you in some way or another. Even if it's just a rock he thought you might like, a pair of earrings you've mentioned before or even just something he thought you might could use. And he will give you one of his oversized blazers if the two of you are out and it's cool, even make sure you have enough to eat and offer you bites of his own food if you want. Hell, if you wanted what he ordered versus what you ordered, he would swap it even if your dish isn't his favorite thing.

Dami loves cooking with you, there's something so domestic about it that he can't help but imagine your future together. He always claims that the meals the two of you prepare together are the best thing he's ever eaten, no matter how simple it is. Just don't break the pasta in front of him, you'll send him into cardiac arrest.

He loves it when you trace and kiss his tattoos, they're something he's proud of and knowing how much you like them just makes him happy. Of course, he knows you don't have to adore every tattoo he has as long as he's happy with it, but it still makes him feel nice when you show his ink a bit of love. It always tickles him a bit when you drag your nail on the ones in his chest, sending shivers down his spine when you do. 

He is a cover hog, yet denies it with every bone in his body. He claims you push them onto him most of the time, despite the fact that you struggle to cover up completely whilst he's on the other side of the bed bundled up like a baby with almost the entire cover. Thankfully, he's warm enough that you can just curl up behind him or into his side and get all the heart that you need from him. He still denies that he hogs the covers when the entire comforter is in a pile on his side, almost like he's trying to build himself a nest

Showering together is one of his favorite things, he loves how intimate it can be. Holding you and helping you wash up without any need to be awkward and feeling comfortable in your own skin in front of each other means so much to him. Being able to be open with one another and not hide anything, even if it's insecurities about your body. He understands that the world isnt always the nicest place and that he can't undo how people's words might hurt you but he'll try his best to get you to love your body

Damiano would love to teach you italian if you didn't already and wanted to learn. He's so excited to be able to share something like this with you that he doesn't realize how hard it is to teach someone an entire language. He overestimates himself and how good of a teacher he is, but that doesn't mean he won't try his best. It just takes a little bit of time, for the both of you. He understands the struggles of learning a new language and wouldn't try to push you to learn it so soon. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day.