imdoingitareyou

[imdoingitareyou]

ellie and joel headcanons between part one and two because i miss them😣

:

ellie would just walk around the house whistling once she finally mastered it

she didnt do it too much outside but when joel was the only one around, shed do it all the time

it partially drove him mental and partially warmed his heart

;

ellie would make a big deal out of joels birthday, knowing how hard it was for him given his associations of it to the outbreak and sarahs death

she’d be extra attuned to when he needed some time to himself to carve a sweet, small figure he’d use to apologise to her with in the evening (still feeling he has to justify his moments of disassociation though she understands it well enough)

he’d give it to her after dinner and every year her small shelf of whittled barn animals would grow ever so slightly, each one becoming more intricate and fine than the last

;

joel was the overprotective father final boss.

he’d make sure never to overstep any boundaries, and always make certain that his baby girl was safe, comfy and happy. (this almost caused him a problem with the parents of other kids her age when he believed boys to be ‘hassling’ her)

it caused a few tiffs, rows and even the odd fullblown yelling match - all of which ended with a long day spent out of jackson in the beautiful, surrounding landscape clear of undead of any kind

they’d apologise to one another for taking the situation further than it had to (god knows they’d both have to after getting too stubborn and too riled up) and enjoy the walk with one another in relative silence, the odd light jab being thrown from one to another in an indication that they were good again

;

the first time they drank together (joel insists that she is accustomed to the sensation and motions of drunkenness before she goes out and does it where he won’t be around), ellie was hellbent on outdrinking her old man

and joel, after getting over his initial concerns about how she’d handle it, was dead set on reminding her he ain’t that easy to beat

they both fell asleep sometime after midnight, surrounded by beer cans and bottles and a half-finished whiskey, joel with his feet kicked up on the crowded coffee table, occasionally twitching and disturbing an empty can, and ellie with her head on the arm rest of the same couch, feet curled beneath her

the following morning, tommy had dropped by, only minorly panicked, to check in on them when maria’s told him that joel’s not gotten to patrol and ellie hasn’t made it to the greenhouse

he found them on the sofa and woke them with his deep, loud laugh, their eyes reluctantly adjusting to the daylight to see him folded over himself, slapping his knee and laughing so hard he’d begun coughing

A/N:

i’m sorry for yapping your honour i just love them so much😓😓😓😓

[imdoingitareyou]

thank you for the tag @pacinoswife

aesthetic

character

me

no pressure tags: @ccrleone @al-pistachio

im sorry i didnt know who else to do😣

୨ৎ — TAG GAME !!

let pinterest describe you to its best abilitys and share how accurate you believe it is!! use the first picture that pops up!!

first search “aesthetic”, then “character”, and lastly “me”

i think mine is pretty accurate!!😭

no pressure tags ⋆˙⟡ @mattybsgroupie @bernardsbendystraws @mattsweethrt @mattscoquette @whore4mattandchris @whor3ing @stvrniolostan @chrisbratt333 + anyone else who would like to join in!!

— have fun ᥫ᭡

[imdoingitareyou]

Ellie and Joel <3

[imdoingitareyou]

just a general post about requests!

absolutely still taking them and happy to do them but they might take a while im so sorry ive just got sm on at the moment, but as soon as i can im going to keep writing!!

thank you for being so patient, ill try and get some done soon🩷🩷🩷

[imdoingitareyou]

[imdoingitareyou]

[imdoingitareyou]

hi! I was wondering if u can write something for Tony Montana where he’s only soft for you. Maybe when he’s stressed, he always wants you to sit on his lap and kiss u or whenever he’s angry about a failed mission he just wants to be close to u. Thank you 🫶🏻

of course - i love this idea btw!!!🫶🏻

summary: tony needs a bit of love and comfort, youre more than willing to offer it

warnings: sitting on his lap, physical touch, kissing, playful flirting, fluff

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

For the first time since he was a boy in Cuba - before being entangled in all the mess and crime - Tony was happy in life. He was making money, easing off the drugs, and he had the prettiest, sweetest girl for whom he would do anything. But that didn’t negate the annoyances, the long meetings, the difficult business transactions, the slimy buyers.

He was sat in his office, a cigar between his lips as he let out a heavy breath, when he saw the door inch open, you peering around the solid slab of dark wood.

“Can I come in?” you uttered.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, trying to be gentle, though his words came out in a grumble. His eyes were heavy and his frame tensed.

You walked the length of his office to his desk, which you rounded until you stood beside him, gently taking his jaw in your palm. “Can I sit?”

Tony offered a smile, nodded, pushing back his chair slightly and spreading his legs. “Again. Don’t gotta ask,” he hummed, hands planting on your waist as he guided you to sit in his lap. “You got somethin’ to tell me?”

Your soft hair was wrapped around his finger and you smiled gently as you looked at him. “No… I just- just wanted to check in,”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Princesa..” he uttered, a rough, large finger now gently tracking your soft, smooth cheek bone. “You’re perfect.”

You looked down at him, shifted slightly in his lap and brought your hands to his hair, your fingers sinking into the thick, brown mass. “You look so tired..”

“Don’t worry about it,”

“How can I not worry about it?”

He smirked at that, and his hand ran a gentle circle along your back, against the soft fabric of your summer dress. “Por que… I already feel better. You know what the problem was?”

You tilted your head, breathing softly as you waited for him to continue.

“I didn’t have you close enough…” he said, an almost boyish smile on his lips now. He leaned in, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling, his nose filling with the tones of honey, fresh flowers, and clean linens. “Mm… I just gotta breathe you, an’ I get all better…”

You laughed softly, patted his arm. “I’m glad you think that, but if something’s bothering y-”

“A-ah. No. The only thing you gotta worry about thats bothering me, is those pretty lips…” he uttered, a tentative thumb brushing along your lower lip, “arent on mine,”

“Yeah?” You smiled. “A kiss gonna fix it?”

“Like always.”

“Okay,” you leaned in and let them hover over his eyes as you uttered teasingly, “I suppose I can kiss my husband… if he really needs it. You really need it?”

“Oh yeah. I die without it.”

“Oh… well I can’t have that,” you smirked, pressing your lips against his. You shifted closer on his lap, breathing softly and still playing with his hair as you eased your tongue between his lips, finding a little playful resistance from his. One hand in his hair, one hand gently squeezing his bicep, you smiled against his lips and slowly pulled away. “Better?”

“Much better. Gracias, mi amor,”

“Por supuesto. Pero…” you hummed, your hand moving now from his bicep to his forearm, feeling his hard flesh beneath the expensive sleeve of his dark suit jacket. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby. Please?”

He let out a breath, looking up at you, his eyes softer and almost twinkling now. “You gotta… gotta trust me, it’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s just work.”

You frowned slightly at that.

“Oh, come on, princesa… you don’t wanna hear about my work… and, I don’t want you to hear about it… you’re too good for that.”

“Tony…” it was almost a whine, and definitely a plea.

“Princesa…” he said, tone slightly firmer.

“Mm.” You looked at him, your bottom lip pushed out slightly before you conceded, “Okay. But I’m stayin’ here.”

He chuckled deeply, arms wrapping around your waist. “You think I’d let you go so soon? I need my princesa right here, lookin’ pretty, smellin’ pretty…”

You giggled softly, pushed your head down gently into the crook of his neck and kissed his warm skin just beneath his black silk shirt. “I love you Tony,”

“I love you, hermosa,”

[imdoingitareyou]

ALSO WILLING TO WRITE FOR SONNY CORLEONW AND TOM HAGEN FROM THE GODFATHER BECAUSE😋😋😋😋

any pacino or de niro enjoyers, please please please dont be scared to request fics/oneshots, i want to write more and i love them so much!!! (theyre my current hyperfixation, but if you have any other requests and i know them, i’ll also be willing to consider it)

i’ll write pretty much any of their roles but prefer the ones i’m actually familiar with so:

travis bickle

tony montana

michael / young vito corleone

arthur kirkland

bobby (panic in needle park)

vincent hanna / neil mccauley

sam ‘ace’ rothstein

jimmy conway

sam (ronin)

things i WONT write: non-con, animal stuff, underage reader, under the influence

they dont have to be smut, i also like writing fluff and angst!!!

[imdoingitareyou]

fake plastic trees — bobby x f!reader (requested)

warnings - implied addiction - both bobby and reader, little bit of angst, sort of hurt!comfort i guess, nicknames (Bobby calls reader ‘angel’), idk i think thats everything!!!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Watching as he stepped out of the gate, a smile pulled at your lips, and you tried to keep your cold fingers from squeezing the warm sandwich held in your palm. “Bobby,” you said gently. Your voice sounded hoarse, weak, pathetic. To you.

To him, it was the voice he’d craved to hear for the past three months. The voice he’d tried so desperately not to forget as he slept on the itchy sheets of his bed, forcing himself to ignore the faint smell of piss in the cell.

To him, it was everything. No matter how much he wished he could despise you for ratting him out, how could he? You were everything.

He didn’t look at you for a moment. Your heart clenched, seeing his head dip slightly, his eyes set on his feet. You rubbed your arm through your jacket, that once was his.

“Hey,” the word was like a shadow, folding in on itself and dropping, slowly sinking into the cement beneath his feet. He looked up, tilted his head.

You swallowed, frowned softly as you felt his gaze carrying so many questions, to which you had so few answers. “Are.. you hungry?”

He let out a soft laugh. “What you got?” he hummed, shifting his gaze to the wrapper in your palm.

“The Triple M,” you smiled. It was a stupid nickname you’d made when you were stupid teenagers. Meatball, marinara, and mozzarella. It used to be his favourite. It was more so an apology, than a sandwich, just as it had been countless times before.

“Oh, angel,” a smile cracked onto his lips. He leaned forward and quickly pressed them against your soft cheek, only slightly, only gently. “You know me too well.”

Looking almost stupid, your eyes wide and your smile wonky, you pushed the sub forward against his fingers.

You were sat on a bench beside the quiet street. He unwrapped the sandwich and you looked down at your hands in your lap. You didn’t know what to say now. You didn’t want to ask him about what it had been like. Not when it was your fault he’d wound up back in there again.

Eating quickly, he looked ahead, eyes flickering around at the apartment building opposite. A few broken windows, some with plants on the sills, some with ugly curtains, others with nothing indicating any form of life at all. The street light beside the post box was flickering, a dim, dull orange, pouring down onto that little section of the sidewalk.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted. You’d never been able to stand the silence.

His eyes moved to the side of your face and he gently patted your knee.

Your head turned. Your throat felt thick and your eyes swelled with tears. “I didn’t want to…”

“Hey. Come on. Come on, it’s alright,” he said, hooking an arm around your shoulder and drawing you close. He lifted his other arm and guided the sandwich near to your lips.

You leaned down and took a slow bite, closing your eyes. It was only just warm, and the cheese didn’t taste as fresh as you might’ve hoped, but it tasted of the days you’d spend avoiding school and your parents and everything, just sitting with him. It was perfect. Even the slightly stale bread tasted perfect.

Your eyes flickered up to his as you leaned back against the bench, and his arm. You pushed your forehead into his shoulder, let out a shaky breath. “I love you, Bobby.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he replied, lowering his chin atop your head. “You been alright?”

“Mmhmm,”

He nudged your chin gently with his thumb, lifting his head off of yours and forcing yours to tilt backward, until your eyes had no place to look but in his.

“You didn’t come by.”

“Didn’t know if you’d want to see me…”

“I always want to see you.”

His thumb ran along your cheek. You frowned softly, nodded. Maybe because you knew he meant it. Because you felt you didn’t deserve it. How could you?

“Angel. Nothin’s gonna change that.” He took a bite of the sandwich, smiled. Then, he tilted it toward you again, musing through the meatball that filled his mouth, “More?”

You looked down at it, shook your head softly.

“I… quit using,” you said gently, not knowing why you did, but feeling as though you had to.

“When?”

Your jaw clenched. “When… when Hotch- that… day…”

His hand still cupped your cheek and he still smiled warmly. “It’s not been too tricky?”

You just shrugged.

“You done for good?”

You nodded.

That night, you were curled up beside him on the train. It had been completely spontaneous, maybe completely stupid. You didn’t care. All you cared about was him, the same as before, the same as when you were younger, the same as it always would be.

“Where does the line end, again, angel?” He asked, gently stroking your hair.

“Chicago.”

“Heard their pizza’s shit.” It was accompanied with a soft laugh. A laugh you’d missed very much. Like all of the rest of him.

You leaned closer to him, pressed your face gently into the crook of his neck through his jumper. “We’ll make our own.”

He kissed the top of your head, gently rubbed your back. “That sounds nice.”

The hotel you stayed in was shit, in one word. You’d seen all sorts of bugs running up and down the corridor as you walked with Bobby to the door that the kind old man had pointed out to you in the reception area. The water from the shower came out in nothing more fluid than a dribble, and you felt warmer after stepping out from the stream, if it could even be called that, than you had beneath it. There wasn’t a single uncracked or unstained tile in the entire bathroom, though it wasn’t a very large bathroom anyway.

But despite the flickering lights outside you window, the tears in the curtains, the mould lining the top of the walls, the shredding wallpaper, and the unappealing stains on the mattress, you couldn’t help but smile as you lay beside Bobby, your cheek pressed against his chest, your hand resting beneath his shirt against his abdomen, your flesh sinking into his wherever it could.

You were happier than you’d been for the past three months, in that moment. And it was all because he was there with you, his hands gently running along the nape of your neck.

“Bobby…”

“Mm?”

“I love you so much.”

He smiled, gently tightened his arms around you. “I love you more than anything, angel.”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked gently, voice tender and soft. He laughed quietly and you lifted your head, looking down at him.

“Course you can.”

You leaned down and gently pressed your lips against his, your hands coming up to grasp at the sides of his face. You held him like a delicate flower, or a fine piece of glass, the coloured sort in a chapel, or any other small, fragile thing. You leaned closer, wanting every inch of your body to touch every inch of his.

Your tongue ran slowly, carefully along his lips, and he parted them, allowing you access. Your hands moved up into his thick, dark hair and you squeezed it, holding onto the brown mass like a lifeline. Like it was the orange life ring that was keeping you from drowning, the parachute that was keeping you from plumetting, the air that was keeping you from suffocating.

In that moment, you were at peace. You had found your very own slice of bliss, in the shitty, cheap hotel, with your convicted, addicted boyfriend. And you would claw and scratch and bite at whoever sought to take it from you.

[imdoingitareyou]

Bro we’d be such great online besties we have so many interests in common ISTG

lets do it!!! didnt see this cause i barely use tumblr sorry🫣

[imdoingitareyou]

any pacino or de niro enjoyers, please please please dont be scared to request fics/oneshots, i want to write more and i love them so much!!! (theyre my current hyperfixation, but if you have any other requests and i know them, i’ll also be willing to consider it)

i’ll write pretty much any of their roles but prefer the ones i’m actually familiar with so:

travis bickle

tony montana

michael / young vito corleone

arthur kirkland

bobby (panic in needle park)

vincent hanna / neil mccauley

sam ‘ace’ rothstein

jimmy conway

sam (ronin)

things i WONT write: non-con, animal stuff, underage reader, under the influence

they dont have to be smut, i also like writing fluff and angst!!!

[imdoingitareyou]

if i was a time traveler id go back and try pull al pacino

[imdoingitareyou]

out of curiosity… would anyone be interested in x reader fics for idk tom hagen and michael corleone??? and maybe tony montana too??? heck why not vincent hanna and neil mccauley??? and maybe even a little jimmy conway???

(if its not obvious my new hyperfixation revolves around beautiful men in gang films!!!)

[imdoingitareyou]

just love when i dont pay attention to the post im writing for 5 seconds and all of a sudden tumblr is the neediest most jealous bitch and just deleted everything i forgot to save☺️

like out of WHAT? spite? or just plain rudeness?

[imdoingitareyou]

Commander Cody found dead in Miami

[imdoingitareyou]

[imdoingitareyou]

she may not be a lesbian in canon, but she is a lesbian in my heart