#sorry I’m a slow writer

[sovereignjojoz]

Bucci gang + embarrassing nicknames (milestone special!)

Warnings: bizarre activities, one mildly suggestive pun in Abbacchio’s, cringe names, google translate.

Pairings: Bruno x reader, Abbacchio x reader, Mista x reader, Fugo x reader, Bonus giorno x reader, Bonus Narancia x reader.

Summary: some embarrassing nicknames.

Notes-sup. It’s been a while. Narancia’s is the best imo. Happy holidays just in case I take too long with my next post!

Bruno Bucciarati

“Brubooboo!” You called out, peaking your head into the meeting room next door.

Bruno turned to look at you, evidently embarrassed at the use of your unique nickname, a faint pink hue present on his sun-kissed cheeks.

You shook your head amused at his reaction, he seemed to hate the nickname yet he never expressed his displeasure; ever the gentleman sitting there bearing the brunt of your teasing.

“Amore mio,” he smiled, regaining his composure.

You leant forward, resting your elbows on his desk whilst putting your face on the psalm of your hands. “Sup baby?” You asked, the corners of your lips turning upward.

He hummed in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What brings you here cara?”

You walked around the desk so you stood beside him, “I was in the area,” you explained, “I thought you’d be done and we could walk home together but clearly my brubear seems stressed.”

You pinched his cheeks, gently pecking each side.

He scoffed, exhaling, “renounce those awful nicknames.”

You pulled his head back so it was facing upwards to look you, “that would mean we’d have to break up.” You teasingly frowned.

“pensi di essere così divertente (you think you’re so funny)?” He muttered, letting out a sigh.

“I’d like to believe so.” You told him “but more importantly do you want me to bring you some dinner, it seems like you’ll be a while, I can just-”

He silenced your rambling by lifting your, interlacing your fingers with his before standing to his full height.

“It’s alright, I’m done for now at least. Torniamo a casa. (Let’s head home).” He stood up, pulling you to the exit by your hand.

You squeezed his hand, drawing closer to him.

“Shall I take out your braids and massage your head when we get home?” You mused, massaging his knuckle with your thumb.

“Sounds perfect.”

Leone Abbacchio

“Bababacchio” you sang imitating the tune of ba ba black sheep as you burst into his bedroom.

Abbacchio closed his eyes, exhaling frustratedly. Recently you’d found calling him the most ridiculously horrific names hilarious and had taken it upon yourself to purposefully make the next one worst than the last.

“What [name].” He asked monotoned, already unimpressed with you although you hadn’t even said anything.

“Chill Habba bubba,” you raised your hands up in mock surrender, “I’m only here to sleep,” you told him crawling onto the bed beside him, “preferably next to you.”

He stood up, bunching his long silver hair up so he could tie it into a ponytail for bed, a hair tie in his mouth as he falsely contemplated what you were saying.

“If you stop with those disgusting pet names fine but say one more and i'm kicking you out.” He warned, as his nimble fingers pulled his hair through the band.

You winked at him, “Fine with me toots.” You told him spreading out on his bed, patting the empty space beside you; inviting him to lay there.

He clicked his tongue at your remark but decided not to act irrationally, using the small bit of patience he had to give you a chance.

You hummed, shifting to move more towards Abbacchio’s side of the bed as he got undressed for bed.

Abbacchio’s chiselled physique just so happened to enter your view frame, a physique which you just so happened to be rather fond of.

You could hardly be blamed for propping your face in the psalm of your hands so you could further enunciate your voice.

“Dangggg! Leone! More like le-own-me!” You teased suggestively raising your eyebrows.

In all your time knowing Leone, you’d never seen his features contort into disgust quicker, you honestly felt rather hurt, that pun had at least been painfully amusing, at the very least!

“fuori. (Out).”

“Wait I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You apologied breathless, unsuccessfully trying to stifle your laughter behind your hand.

“Hold up! stop, let go of my ankle!” You complained as he lifted you out of his bed, dropping you on the floor.

“Leone I’m sorry, let me back in please!”

Guido Mista

“Mimi, it’s so cold!” You whined, staying as close to him as humanly possible, “and your shirt is too cropped for me to put my hands under.”

“Number one, that’s on you and secondly quit it with that name! You’re gonna ruin my street cred.”

Jokingly, you scoffed, side-eyeing him, “what street cred, you wear zebra print pants?”

He lightly pushed you away, shoving his hands in his pockets as he dragged his feet into the hotel the pair of you would be staying in.

“uscire con qualcuno che hanno detto, sarà divertente hanno detto. che bugiardo. (date someone they said, it will be fun they said. what a liar.)” Mista mumbled a tad bit too loud under his breath, kissing his teeth at the end for dramatic effect.

He kicked the door open with his foot, holding it open as you leisurely walked in after him.

“Oh whatever.” You said rolling your eyes at his dramatics, “stop acting as if you don’t relish in the privileges that come with a relationship.”

He waved his hand in the air, dismissing your sentence, “Well why wouldn’t I, they are there for me to use, right?”

You turned your nose up at him, “Hmph.”

“C’mon baby,” Mista whined drawling out the “y” sound. He encased his hands around your face, kissing your cheeks. “Let’s just have fun tonight, yeah?”

“Fineee.” You took his hands off of your face and dragged him to the receptionist desk.

The tanned male winked at you in response, “yo, could I get a room for two, king sized bed please.”

Fugo Pannacotta

“Fugie pants, fungo, pannana! Could you be a dear and help me with my homework please?”

Fugo walked into the room, mortified, with a cackling Narancia trailing behind him.

“[name]! What did we say about using such vile names!” Fugo exclaimed, positioning himself at your side.

You threw your head back, sighing, “I can’t quite recall fugs.” You answered, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle your laughter.

“[name].” The young male warned curtly, squeezing your jaw so your boisterous laughter would be lessoned.

Narancia wiped his tears of laughter, high giving you as he made his way to exit. “Man, see ya around. Too funny.” Narancia mumbled to himself, his laughter still audible as he departed the room.

“Stop it.”

“But it’s so funny, if you’d just stop reacting I’d stop-”

He pinched your soft lips with his fingers, cutting your sentence off. “no.”

Mini Bonus: Giorno

“Hey Gio.”

The blonde side-eyed you curiously.

You pointed at him with your pencil, “you know if you rearrange the letters in your name you can come up with some pretty interesting name combos.”

He raised his eyebrow, interested, “oh really?”

“Uh huh. Like giovanno, Giovanni, gio-vara, gio-cara.”

Bemusedly, he smiled. “I don’t have a c in my name.”

“I know that giogio, I was trying to be cute with a cute pun.” You groaned exasperated.

“Failure was inevitable.”

“Hey!” You pouted, playfully poking his cheek, “for someone so nice you sure are cheeky.”

Bonus: Narancia Ghirga

The whole week you had been trying, yet ultimately failing, to tease Narancia by giving him an embarrassing nickname.

But despite your best efforts nothing seemed to work, he was seemingly immune to embarrassment.

You thought back on those instances, trying to recall where you had gone wrong.

“Hey my sugar plum fairy cake gumdrop!” You greeted Narancia, kissing his nose.

“What’s up my boo boo bear honey plum nugget.” He responded back with an equal amount of fervour.

You stiffened, cringing in your place, how could he say that so easily. You decided to push through, chanting the mantra “resilience is key.” In your head.

“Nothing my bubble gum sugar cube bub.”

“Alright my sweet peach bubba lover. I love you.”

You mock retched running away, as Narancia chased after you.

Total and utter defeat.

[topguncortez]

finally, finally, FINALLY…

y’all are getting a jake & shy!wifey fic today/tonight 🫶

[mikavlcs]

i’m gonna be posting the next ghostface tara fic within the next few days (i’m manifesting it…it’s at 4.3k rn) so if you wanna be tagged, you can add yourself to the taglist here <3

[keys-hellscape-1020]

You’re a healer, not a fighter. And yet…

Enjoy more stitch y’all sorry it took me so long. Also the title for this is SO bad I’m so sorry.

Platonic!141 x Medic!reader

Tw: Canon typical violence, cursing, gore, blood, Background character death, explosions, grenades, heavy smoke, reader is dissociating, implied that reader is having a panic attack, military inaccuracies, light angst, hurt/comfort.

~

You hate, nay despise, when you get separated during missions. If history holds true, and it always does, it won’t end well.

You are currently stuck in a small room, well stuck is a strong word as you do have 2 possible exits, it’s just that neither is very promising.

The slightly more promising of the two is a small rectangular window on the other side of the room, about 6 feet away. You’re not sure if you could get your torso through, and even if you did, if the 5 story drop didn’t kill you the enemy that was swarming the building certainly would.

The other exit was a hallway, leading back the way you fled from. You were crouched in a corner that bordered the door, gripping your gun tightly. There was no cover in the room, simply beige walls and that dammed window.

Suddenly a loud noise crackled from your comms, causing you to fumble to quickly turn it down a few notches. “Stitch! Stitch are you there? We almost have the case!”

You shuddered in a breath, carefully watching the door as you lifted one hand up to your radio to respond. “Sounds good Soap. I’m currently pinned on the 5th story, no visual on the enemy.”

“Stitch do you have any way to get out of there? We are pushing on 7th story.” That was Price, you could hear the sounds of a firefight in the background.

“I’ll find a way around.”

“Copy that, repo quickly.”

You carefully came out of your corner, crouching near the door you grabbed the doorknob, quickly flinging the door open.

The moment the door opened it was filled with bullets. You ducked behind the wall, grabbed a grenade from your gear pulled the pin and hoped.

When you heard a loud explosion paired with a choir of screams you leapt into the doorway, your gun posed in front of you.

You quickly took care of the few enemies you could see between the smoke and rubble. After a moment of no movement you moved forward to the rubble.

Crouching down you looked at the one solider who was still alive from your assault, half buried under rubble. He was a big fucker.

“Fuck off.” He growled at you as blood ran down his face.

You assessed him with a critical eye. His injuries would prevent him from moving very far. If you moved all weapons away from his reach he wouldn’t be a threat. That is assuming he lives.

You leaned over him to grab his sidearm from its holster on his side. As you leaned over he grabbed your arm with one hand and your shoulder with the other.

In any other circumstances he would’ve been able to break your arm, but he was injured and you were on high alert. You quickly tore his side arm from its holster and drove it into the side of his head, knocking his grip off of you.

Pointing his gun at his forehead you growled, “I am showing you mercy. Do not make me regret it.”

Breaking you out of your focused state was your radio, crackling to life loudly on your chest.

“STITCH! DON’T- THE EMEMY- TRAP”

The enemy used your shock to his advantage, grabbing your elbow and attempting to pry the gun from your grasp. You however were still faster despite your shock. You ram you head into his, causing him to let go of your elbow. You then pull your knife from its sheath and drive it home in the side of his neck.

With his blood staining your hands you turned to respond to your radio, ignoring the enemy’s gurgling in the background.

“What about the enemy? Do you have the case?” You asked, concern growing in your chest.

“STITCH” That at least you could tell was Price.

“Captain? Captain what’s going on?” You asked frantically, you had to fight the urge to run to them. If things were going wrong getting yourself hurt would not help anyone.

Suddenly your radio was full of very loud static. You fiddled with the channel, hoping it was just a technical error, but the longer you tried to get a connection the more you lost hope that it was simply a technical error.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reality of the situation hit you. Your boys were captured. You quickly switch your mic off. Damnit.

Alright think. Your boys still have to be in the building, there’s no way they got them out already. You know they were heading to the 7th floor. The enemy will most likely be taking them up to the roof to lift them out. You just had to intercept them in time.

That is assuming they’re not dead.

But there is no time to think like that. They can’t be dead. If they’re dead you’re going to drag their sorry asses back to the living world and kill them again.

You quickly look around in the rubble, there has to be something here you can use. The corpse of an enemy solider catches your eye. They’re about the same build as you and while their uniform is splattered in blood it would do the job well enough.

You quickly pull on their jacket and vest along with their helmet. You could only hope that would be enough, you had to move.

————

You found the stairwell on the 5th floor, once you executed your plan you would have to move quickly or face loosing your boys forever.

You quickly started climbing the stories, you keep marching forward undisturbed until you got to the 8th story, when you were met with two guards.

“Who the fuck are you?” One of the guards shouted at you, pointing his gun at your head.

You quickly raised you hands in the air, it was vital they thought you one of them. “We- were attacked. 5th floor. Everyone is dead.” You croaked, forcing tears into your eyes and tightening your throat.

The two guards looked at each other, back at you, then lowered their guns a few inches.

“Where on the 5th floor was this and when?” One guard questioned, narrowing their eyes at you.

Fuck. You thought it was on the western side but you couldn’t be sure. No more that 10 minutes could’ve passed since it happened, but how could you be certain?

You couldn’t be, you just had to take a guess and hope you were right. “Western side.” You shuddered, hoping you weren’t overdoing your acting. “It- it just happened. No more then 10 minutes ago.”

“We just lost contact with a group on the eastern side. You know anything about that?” The guard shot you a suspicious glance. The other one fiddled with their trigger, glaring at you.

Fuck it.

You grabbed the one who was fiddling with their trigger and pulled them in front of you, using them as a human shield against their friend who sprayed a wave of bullets at you on instinct.

You pushed one guard into the other, and while they were reeling from the shock of having their friends mutilated corpse pushed into them you grabbed your knife and rammed it into the side of their head, aiming at the lisp of their helmet and angling upwards. So much for the plan.

There were footsteps coming down the stairwell, you had to act fast. Quickly you stash your knife in its sheath before pulling out your gun and firing it at the entry to the 8th floor, shouting expletives.

A team of 6 rounds the corner on high alert, they’re looking where you’re shooting and not at you, good.

“They went that way!” You shout, gesturing towards the door with a nod of your head.

“Move!” The leader barked, rushing towards the door. You pressed yourself to the wall, watching as they filed into the empty floor.

Once the coast is clear and the last of the enemies are through the door you turn around to creep carefully yet quickly up the rest of the stairs.

You manage to move up the next two flights of stairs without difficulty. You make your way to the floor right below the roof and listen carefully, your ear perched right up against the door.

You are met with the sounds of very angry, very Scottish yelling. You let out a shallow sigh of relief. Just as you suspected your boys are still in the building, now the hard part. Getting them out of it in one piece.

You wait at the door a moment longer listening for any clues, you fail to hear any coming from beyond the door, but you do hear one from above.

Carefully, and ever so slowly, cracking the door to the roof open, you are met with exactly what you expected. A helicopter is slowly descending to the platform on the roof, surrounding said platform is at least 5-8 enemy soldiers.

While not great you can work with these conditions, and that’s what you plan to do.

Not that you have much of a choice.

————

You quickly run to the floor they’re holding your boys and in a moment of fuck-it-I-have-nothing-to-loose (you’re lying to yourself you have everything to loose), you charge in, slamming the door to the wall.

You immediately stand at attention, and direct your eyesight to the man you hope you are correctly assuming is in charge.

When no bullets start firing at you you realize they are waiting for you to speak.

“Sir!” You bark out. “The heli is waiting on the roof sir!”

An old, short man turns to focus his eyes on you. You feel the cold sweat gathering on your neck as he fails to say anything, you swear that in the moment you could feel him cracking open your chest and feasting inside. Discovering all your secrets, uncovering all your sins.

Then he speaks, “bout damn time! Have the rest of your team come down. Escort these damn prisoners the fuck out of here!”

You turn to report to the rest of your fake team when a sense of dread hits you like a cold water ballon.

The messenger they would be sending. To alert the old fucker about the heli landing. That you already told him about.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!!” You hiss out quietly to yourself, two seconds away from stomping your foot and pouting like a child.

Your panic is cut short however when the door to the roof opens. You quickly snap to attention as the solider heads towards you, fixing you with a scalding glare.

“What are you doing?” They question. You feel like they are a priest, pulling all your sins out of you one by one.

“I’ve been assigned to guard here, on account of the enemy solider running amok.” You say stoically, puffing out your chest in a crude imitation of a loyal solider, proud to be guarding their commander.

The other solider briefly stares at you, before gesturing for you to get out of the way. Fuck there’s nothing you can do. Any attempt at taking them out would surly be heard. Fuck it- there’s nothing you can do.

You step aside.

————

It feels like a lifetime as you wait for a sound, a whimper, a pen dropping, an indication of what your next move should be. It feels like a lifetime as suddenly the door you’re standing next to bursts open.

You are guided by instinct as you fire a bullet into the head of the solider who had opened the door. You duck low, pull the pin on a grenade, and throw it into the room.

You are shaken by the proximity of the explosion, and your ears are ringing fiercely. You push forwards anyway, and once you are well hidden by the smoke in the room you duck behind the remains of a pillar. You hear movement and you quickly peek out form behind it, firing wildly. It is only another moment before the smoke begins to clear enough that you can see.

You glance around cautiously, and see that every solider in this room is dead, remarkably there are fewer corpses then you expected. The only option for where your boys could be is behind a door on the other end of the room.

You can hear yelling coming from it.

You can hear footsteps from behind you.

You slam the door behind you shut, amazed it’s still on it’s hinges. You grab a chair and shove it beneath the handle. You hope that buys you enough time to get your boys out because otherwise you’re doomed.

You approach the door, your gun posed in front of you, and kick.

The door holds.

You kick again.

The doorframe splinters under the force with a shrieking groan and the door swings open.

You are met with the man who you had addressed before, holding a pistol to Price’s head. All of your boys are in the room, looking like they had been thrown in haphazardly, their arms tied behind their back and their legs held together by zip-ties.

You creep one foot into the room before the old fucker shouts out, “Stop! One more step and I blow his brains out!” As he speaks he kicks Price, not hard enough to send him to the ground, but he still lets out a small grunt of pain.

“Hands off him ye’ wanker!!” Soap shouts out from one side of the small room. He pulls against his bonds with a groan, but does not accomplish anything.

Suddenly a loud shout and a bang is heard from the farthest door. You are forced to turn around, your gun held high, as you hear the enemy continue to struggle to get in.

“You’ll be dead soon. Surrender and maybe I’ll go easy on-” suddenly his speech dissolves into a blubbering mess of groans and hiccups, all began by the distinct sound of metal sinking into flesh.

You whirl around, panicked, only to see your Captain standing over the fluttering body of the enemy commander, holding a small pocket knife.

He glances at you over his shoulder before speaking, “Hold the door, I’ll get them out.”

You do as he says, moving to crouch behind a pillar, gaze trained on the door.

“Sir,” you call out over your shoulder, “enemy heli on the roof.”

Price makes a noise of acknowledgment and quickly crouches down next to you behind the pillar, an enemy gun in his hands. You barely notice Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moving to shelter on the other side of the room before the door bursts open with a sense of finality.

————

It’s nothing short a blood bath, a mess of bullets and gunpowder framing the centerpiece of organs and body parts. Bone fragments, and limbs, and cries of pain and pleas to merciless gods. It feels like both a century and a moment before soldiers stop flooding into the room.

Price motions for you to move forward, and gestures towards your belt silently. A smoke grenade. You nod in understanding and pose right behind a door, a smoke grenade in your hand. You glance over your shoulder briefly, checking that all your boys are in place.

With a confirmation that they’re ready you pull the pin on the grenade, shut your eyes tightly, and throw it. Once you hear the smoke dispense you desperately push forward.

It feels like a fever dream, moving through smoke and cries of pain. You feel like you’re watching a movie, a compilation of photos as you feel yourself pull the trigger again and again and again. Body responding before you can even think to. You feel every movement so intensely, and yet not at all. Like a puppet you react to your instincts, watching your boy’s backs. Making sure they stay safe. By the time the smoke clears and you’re ready to move to the roof you swear you can feel yourself swimming in blood. You can feel it creeping up your shoes, your shins and your knees, you hips, up and up until it’s entering your throat and your nose- suffocating you- you can’t breathe-

“Stitch?” You’re forced back into your body by a firm hand on your shoulder. Turning your head you see Gaz standing next to you, somehow managing to pull a small, kind smile onto his face. “We’re almost out.” He soothes kindly.

You swallow the blood in your throat before nodding firmly. “Right. We’re almost out.”

————

It was surprisingly easy to take control of the helicopter, but you suppose you should have expected that. Once they’d heard the shooting and explosions beneath their feet they would have almost certainly abandoned their post in favor of helping their allies. It doesn’t truly matter to you though, their lives ended all the same.

After busting through the door, that they hadn’t even bothered to lock in their rush, it was simply a matter of taking out 3 soldiers and the pilot. A laughably easy task considering what you had just accomplished.

You leaned back in your seat on the helicopter heavily, resting your head back against the side of the beast. You feel your weariness in every bone in your body. You don’t think you’ve ever dealt so much death in such a short period of time. While you were no stranger to the feeling of taking a life, you took less than the average solider. You focused on mending, not breaking, whenever possible.

You supposed that today mending life was not in cards as much as tearing it apart. You wonder if you have what it takes to be a solider, if you break at the first sign of difficulty.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a firm hand on your knee. You open your eyes and sit up to be met with the sight of Soap’s big blue eyes staring at you in concern.

It’s takes you a moment before you notice that he’s handing you something, his field journal. You take it with a confused glance, but he mearly gestures for you to look inside.

You look at the page he was holding open, it contains many small doodles, that despite their small size are still remarkably well done. You see doodles of Ghost and Gaz, who are sitting across from you. He’s sketched how they currently look, Gaz with his head resting on his fist as he stares at the clouds racing by. Ghost as he leans back, his arms and legs crossed.

What really draws your attention though is a question, messily scrawled beneath the doodles. Next to it is a stylized, cartoonish drawing of you, surrounded by several hearts.

The question reads, “You alright hun?”

You look up at Johnny and he blinks at you a few times before suddenly startling, like he had forgotten something, and sheepishly handing you a pencil.

You scrawl down right below Johnny’s handwriting, “I’ll live. You?” You hand his journal back to him, and watch as he scrawls down his response.

“Bit shaken, thought I was done in for a second there. At least until you stepped in <3” Next to the heart he’s drawn a goofy kissy face, equipped with his signature Mohawk and all.

Johnny and your’s silent conversation is cut short by Price shouting over the sound of the heli from up by the cockpit, “We’re landing in 2 minutes!”

“Roger that Cap!” You yell back, handing Johnny his journal back with a ruffle of his Mohawk. He gawks at you in playful insult while you go about making sure you (and your boys) are prepped for landing.

————

Once you’ve got both your feet back inside base exhaustion hits you like a tsunami wave. Now that you’re certain you’re safe the adrenaline is fading like water out of a balloon. Despite the fatigue festering in every part of your person, you’re not in bed. Instead you’re in the armory, cleaning your gear.

You want nothing more than to sleep, but it’s routine for you to make sure all of your duties are accomplished first so you can sleep well. You’re silently taking apart a pistol when you hear footsteps approaching the armory, knocking you out of your thoughts.

It’s only a moment before Price walks through the doors, surprisingly enough he’s not carrying any of his own weapons.

As soon as he sees where you’re sat on one of the benches he B-Lines to you, approaching with a speed and purpose that you’ve only seen him use on missions. The adrenaline from the mission must still be in his system, you muse. He’s been in this industry long enough for it to make sense.

“Go the fuck to sleep sergeant. The actual hell are you still doing awake?” He barks as he approaches you.

“Will soon sir.” You respond nonchalantly. “Just cleaning my gear first.”

He guffaws like it’s the most foolish thing he’s heard all day, (which says a lot considering he has gotten captured today) and gestures for you to scoot over.

You do so, slightly confused by what he intends to do. Once you’ve made room on the bench he sits down next to you and grabs your vest. As he lays it on his lap he goes through the pockets systematically, making sure the vest is perfectly up to code.

As you observe him you’re slightly surprised by his actions, you imagine he must be wanting to go to sleep after the day he’s had.

“You don’t have to help me sir.” You say carefully, tip-toeing around his grumpy outward appearance.

“A good leader always makes sure his soldiers are taken care of before himself. Now finish cleaning that pistol so we can get the fuck to bed.”

————

With Price helping you it didn’t take long for you to finish and finally head to bed. You could feel your feet sticking to the ground with every step, and it took you twice as long as it normally did to walk to your barracks from the armory.

As you approach your door you notice a slumped figure next to it, causing adrenaline from the day to start kicking back up inside you. Feeling your heart start to hammer, yet not having the energy to do anything about it, you continue to approach leisurely.

As you get closer you recognize the balaclava and all black clothing that clings to a large frame. Ghost. When you finally stand next to him you nudge his hip with your foot.

“Come on big guy.”

He blinks up at you wearily, but starts to stand all the same as you unlock your door. You walk in and throw your boots and jacket off as you approach your bed, little care for where they end up.

You flop down on your bed, the scratchy blankets and thin military mattress feeling like paradise after all you’d been through. When you see ghost’s shadow approaching out of the corner of your eye you roll over, facing the wall.

You feel Ghost lie down on your mattress and sling a heavy arm over your waist as you both settle down into a deep sleep.

It had been a hard day, but you would do it all over again for your boys.

[blairamok]

i’m feeling more normal these days, i’ve been enjoying my break immensely. i want to talk and post about my AU again, even though i said i wanted to keep it to myself for a bit, but i love sharing it so much. i just need to get my brain into a space that can ignore the stressful comments because i know they’ll never really go away lol

[bindeds]

do you guys ever experience like a ‘dry’ period with your usual favs then something comes up and you rewatch clips of other commonly simped for characters that you didn’t really like before and suddenly it’s like … woah uh. where the fuck did this come from. ur literally built like my pc but with a suit bro ain’t no way right

[29625]

The most frustrating part about writing a period-inspired songfic is that sometimes your favorite songs hadn't been released in the era you are writing in. Like, I'm writing this Slimav angst/smut set in 1993 listening to R.E.M.’s Imitation of Life…then realized the song was released in 2001 :(((( I’m like nooooooooo let me make Sli cry listening to this while being pounded by his short king. Let him cry over some stupid-ass cigarettes Goose used to smoke. Let them suffer with some good music in the background. LET THEM MOURN TO REM

[daywalker-rr]

i made a preciousmetal fic lol

[proqhetic]

i swear i’m writing the reqs in my inbox

[skyward-floored]

I might be writing something Christmas-y? maybe

[sovereignjojoz]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request the bucci gang reacting to their girlfriend accidentally stumbling upon them facing off an enemy and then taken hostage? Their gf is just a normal girl who doesn’t know about their stands or criminal life, she just gets caught up in the whole fight accidentally (cause she saw her bf and followed them) and when the enemy figures out she’s their gf, they take her hostage or smth similar to that!

Bucci gang: clueless

Pairings: Bruno Bucciarati x reader, Leone Abbacchio x reader, Guido Mista x reader, Giorno Giovanna x reader, Pannacotta Fugo x reader, Ghirga Narancia x reader.

Warnings: implied fem reader in some but no explicit mention, reader CAN’T see stands, some angst so the scenarios are varied, (not a warning but Mista is 6’0”), petnames, mild violence (nothing descriptive).

Notes - awhh yeahh babey! Love this idea, love damsel in distress reader, ty for the request!

Bruno Buccarrati

“Yeah mama, I know.” You told her manoeuvring your phone, balancing it between your shoulder and your ear. “The rustling? Oh I’m just tying my shoelace, yeah, I’m out right now, I’m just finishing up some errands then I’ll- wait mama, hang on a minute.” You paused, lifting your eyes up from the concrete.

Was that Bruno? You squinted, as if that would help you see clearer into the distance. What was he doing here?

Involuntarily, the corners of your lips twisted upwards into a smile, what a wonderful surprise.

Your mother called your name from the phone, bringing your attention back to what you were previously doing. You picked your phone up, holding it to your ear, “mama? Sorry, sorry, I just saw Bruno here th- yeah, Bruno my boyfriend, remember the one I was telling you about? Mhm, I’ll call you back I’m going to go…” you faltered towards the end of your sentence, falling silent upon seeing a strange man approaching Bruno.

“Hello… [name]? Hello? Is everything alright dear?” You heard your mother ask on the other side of the line.

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you failed to respond to your mama. The ambience of this person felt extremely unnatural, there was something dangerously off about this individual, just being near them sent shivers down your spine.

You clutched your phone in a vice like grip, once more glimpsing over at Bruno and that unusual man.

You brought your nail up to your lips, holding it in your teeth, momentarily bringing you relief.

Perhaps you were overthinking, you looked over your phone seeing that only two minutes had passed. You exhaled, slumping, nothing happened.

You ran your hands over your face, what was up with you today, how did you delude yourself into thinking such a thing-

“Oh my gosh!” You gasped as your phone slipped out of your hand, plummeting down to the concrete floor.

Scrambling to find your phone, you dropped to the floor, desperately crawling around on the faded slabs looking for the small device.

You felt cold metal brush your fingertips as the sound of your mother’s frantic voice gushed out of the speaker.

You snatched it from the bin it had fallen under then crawled to hide behind that same bin.

“M-mama.” You spoke, voice shaking with each word you tried to get out, “I- Bruno, mama I don’t know what to do.” You whispered hushed.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, you knew it, you weren’t wrong but nothing made sense.

You felt like your eyes had been deceiving you, as though you were going crazy, but you weren’t, you know you weren’t you’d seen it with your very own eyes.

Just when you’d decided that man wasn’t a threat and you were halfway towards Bruno, a ton of blood came seeping out from his right arm, which you had just noticed was split down the middle.

It happened almost instantaneously yet it seemed as though nothing attacked him, the other man hadn’t even moved an inch yet clearly from the fresh wound on his arm he had been attacked.

You slapped your cheeks, reminding yourself of what was presently happening.

With your head now slightly clearer, you cut the call with your mum quickly messaging: “had to go, love you, speak later.” Now that your mum was taken care of, you swiped onto the phone keypad and dialled the number of the police, waiting with baited breath as each dial passed.

Leaning forward, you took a peek at where Bruno stood, only to see him get punched in the lower jaw, his bottom lip splitting in the corner on impact.

You bit your tongue as tears limned your lower lash line, you wished you could be of more help but realistically if Bruno was struggling what would you be able to do.

Perched on your knees, you angled your phone camera so that the violent man was within frame.

You dropped your phone horrified when the flash shone brightly like a beacon of light, praying from behind the bin that you hadn’t been noticed.

You chastised yourself, how could you be so stupid as to not check!

You daringly took another look so you could get a grasp of the situation, every which way you looked you couldn’t find a singular face of that guy, all you could see was Bruno holding his injured arm; befuddled.

Your shoulders dropped as your chest deflated, releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in.

Pushing the bin with your leg, you crawled out of your hiding spot cautiously, ready to run to assist Bruno.

As you attempted to stand up you felt a callous hand wrap around your ankle, causing your head to whip around to the offender.

“Hello sunshine, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to lurk around private affairs?”

Your eyes widened as you opened your mouth to scream, but before you could do so he moved behind you, clamping his hand over your mouth, muffling your scream.

He restrained you in his grip, moving back to where he stood previously.

You bit his hand, hard, in the hopes that he’d release you but it was to no avail.

The man hissed in pain, yet his grip still remained firm as the two of you came in Bruno’s field of view.

Bruno’s jaw ticked, since when were you here.

“I take it that now you’ll listen?” He spoke, his hot, smelly breath wafting into your face.

“There’s no need to involve a civilian.” Bruno said, his breath laboured.

He grinned from behind you, “oh but you and me both know this isn’t just any ordinary civilian don’t we?”

Bruno looked at him straight-face, “I have no idea what you’re implying.”

“Oh really?” He challenged.

He moved his hand from over your mouth to the sides of your jaw-

“Stop.” Bruno demanded unable to take his taunts anymore, “we’ll release your team member, however, first hand the civilian over to me.”

You looked at your boyfriend, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“How can I trust you.” Snarled the enemy user.

Bruno chucked a small device at him, from the corner of your eye it seemed like a GPS, however your pounding head left you unsure on what it actually was.

Seemingly satisfied, he released you from his hold, chucking you to where Bruno was leaving you stumbling as you tried to catch yourself.

Bruno rushed forward, catching you in his arms allowing the enemy user to escape. Later, that’d be a nuisance to deal with however your safety was of much more importance.

He looked at you as you wrapped your arms around him, you hadn’t even had the chance to cry with everything happening all at once.

He placed his uninjured arm around the small of your back, holding you close as clung to him.

You looked at Bruno, your eyes still limned with tears, “Bruno… I-”

He shushed you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

Your eyes flutter shut as you leant into his hand, unaware of the fact that you were losing consciousness, your stress now catching up with you.

Quick to react, Bruno scooped you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest; bridal style.

He frowned, kissing your forehead remorsefully, “I’m sorry Carina.”

Guido Mista

Seeing how a viel of darkness had now taken over the previously clear blue sky, you started to pack your things up into your colourful customised beach basket, courtesy of Mista.

He really was so cute.

You grabbed your cover up skirt, tying it tightly around your waist before putting your baby blue flip flops on.

Squatting comfortably, you grabbed your phone and skimmed over your unanswered notifications.

You smiled as your eyes took notice of a notification from “mi-mi;)”, immediately tapping on it.

Mi-mi: hey pretty baby

Mi-mi: u headin home

You: yeah babeyy I’m omw now

*mista sent one attachment*

Mi-mi: missin u wifey ( o ⊰ o)<3

You: 🤣🫵

You: ew.

Mi-mi: hey.

You: are you coming home soon?

Mi-mi: yeah I just gotta deal with smth first, then im all yours

*you sent one attachment*

You: kay babe, I’ll be waiting for ya at home, be quick :( I love you

Mi-mi: promise

Mi-mi: I love you too ;)

You smiled, biting the inside of your cheek as you powered your phone off.

Dusting the sand off of your cover up, you picked up the basket and started walking to the beach’s exit, a slight skip in your step after having talked to Mista.

You set your bag down on the bench as you checked the time on the bus stop. 25 minutes, kinda long, but not too bad.

You sat down one the bench, one leg crossed over the other, and re-reached into your bag for your phone.

You lifted your gaze up, halting your scrolling when you saw a flash of zebra print enter your vision.

Gingerly, you grabbed your bag and stood up, turning the corner where you saw the zebra print flash by.

“Mi-mi?” You called out affectionately, rounding the corner.

The man paused in his tracks at the sound of your voice, your nickname.

You knew it was him, there was only one man in Italy who’d be bold enough to wear zebra print pants, that man being Mista of course.

Dropping your bag beside you, you ran, or at least attempted to run in your flip flops to meet him, and pulled his head down to kiss him lightly as a greeting.

You felt him kiss you back until his eyes widened in recognition, as though something had just clicked in him.

He pushed you back, away from him as you furrowed your brows, confused.

“No, no, no.” He lamented, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Amore, what are ya doing here, you’re suppose to be at home?” He asked turning towards you.

Completely out of the loop, you responded, “what do you mean? I told you I’m heading home, and to do that I need to catch the bus?”

You pointed towards the direction of the bus stop as Mista processed your information.

“Ah, right! Well you need to get going, now!” He informed, pushing you towards the bus stop by the small of your back.

“Hang on!” You spluttered exasperated, “Mista! Wait , wait a minute!” You stopped in your tracks, panting.

“What’s your deal?” You demanded, wanting to know what was causing such unusual behaviour.

“Nothing! It’s just late, you should get home now c’mon.” He told you pulling you by your hand.

Mista notice how your eyes bore into him, trying to figure out what he was thinking however when your hand tightened around his he figured you’d disregarded the matter.

The two of you ran hand in hand past the bus stop, and continued running till you were about half way home or rather until you couldn’t keep up with Mista’s freakishly high stamina.

“Mista,” you panted, ridding yourself of his hand, “I’m tired, can’t we just wait for a moment.” You told him slowing down, putting your hands on your knees.

“No babe! I-” he sighed exasperated, “look I promise I’ll tell you later but for now please, work with me.”

You heaved out a frustrated sigh but listened nonetheless, “alright alright, I-” a shrill scream left your throat before you could even finish your sentence.

Within seconds, Mista had his pistol aimed and ready to fire, his eyes instantly locked on the target behind you.

“Merda.” He cursed under his breath, how could he have let this have happen under his watch, “the hell do ya want huh!? I thought I finished you off earlier.” Mista spat venomously, fed up with the individual who had been pursuing him for 45 minutes.

You looked at Mista alarmed, “Mista…w-what-”

The man behind you, who up till now you still hadn’t seen squished your cheeks with his calloused hand, mocking both you and Mista.

“Get off of me!” You exclaimed in disgust as you pried his fingers off of your face, only for him to latch onto to your wrist like a leech, drawing you much closer to him than necessary.

He grabbed his phone out, flicking onto his camera roll, “Oi, I already told you, you messed with the boss’s daughta’ this is what happens when you mess with anything associated with the boss.”

Mista scoffed, “what the fu- you’re delusional! Who is that!” He asked seeing he had no recollection of this woman.

“stupido coglione, che razza di organizzazione idiota è questa. (stupid jerk, what kind of idiotic organization this is).” He muttered under his breath, pulling the reload trigger on his pistol.

“Ah, ah, ah.” The assiliant clicked his tongue in disappointment, “drop your gun, all the boss wants to do is talk.”

Mista’s brows drew together at the absurdity of this lacky, “what is wrong with you, just give me back my (s/o)/(girlfriend), stop being such a prick.”

“No seriously creep, leave us alone.” You chimed in scolding whoever that guy was.

“Hey.” His face contorted into an expression of distain, prompting Mista to fire a warning shot behind the enemy. “Drop the gun.”

You parted your mouth to speak in retaliation, when a cracking pain spread throughout your wrist, causing fat clear tears to roll down you cheeks.

Mista watched helplessly, he would have aimed and fired however you were moving around too much for his pistol to get a clear shot which would immobilise his target.

Heaving sobs wracked your chest, the pain within your wrist throbbing more intensely each second.

“Alright!” Mista exhaled, choosing to comply. He lowered down his pistol slowly, raising his hands up in surrender as he got up.

“Now kick it away.”

“Mista, don’t.” You sniffed, stray tears still running down your cheeks.

He kicked it slightly to the side of him, just far enough so he could get to it within a second.

“Good boy.”

The vein in his temple pulsed out as the other man started to speak again, “come here once more tomorrow at noon, bring 100k as compensation, y’know for the heartbreak and we’ll trade you back your bella, capisce.”

“Mist-!” You attempted to reach out to him, to tell him not to make any rash decisions but as you attempted to do so a bright white flash engulfed you.

Mista grabbed his gun, “Naw-!” Yet as soon as he looked up you were gone.

“Bastard!” He grabbed his hat, squeezing his head in disbelief.

It’d only taken him one second, however he was one second too late.

Leone Abbacchio

Sighing in relief, you pulled apart the flimsy black strings that held your apron together in a neat bow.

Your checked your phone with heavy eyes, a result of working a 6am shift, and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was only 2pm.

Hopefully Abbacchio would be home by now, his schedule always varied due to his mysterious occupation, so you never really knew when you would see him.

You especially wanted to see him since today you received some freebies from the makeup store you work at, one of those freebies being pink lipstick.

You bit your lip in contemplation, huh, you’d never actually seen Leone in any other lipstick colour than purple. Perhaps you’d pull a misplaced prank on him today so you could see him wear pink.

Giggling to yourself, you checked your phone, and low and behold, to your surprise there actually was a message from your boyfriend.

The thought of him texting made your giggles resurface, he was awful at texting.

Leone: where are you?

You: at work, just finished, why?

Leone:👋

You furrowed your brows in confusion. This is why you preferred to call him, in fact that’s what you’d do now.

The dial tone obnoxiously rung in your ear thrice before Leone picked up, you called out his name as he finally picked up yet in return all you received was the deafening sound of static.

“Hello?” You shouted into the phone, drawing out the “o” sound.

You shoved your belongings in your bag, a frown etched on your face. “Leone? This isn’t funny, is this a prank because it’s not a good one. What’s going on?”

“You’re scaring me!” You confessed even though all you got in return was that ever present heavy silence, “I’m leaving work now, I don’t know what you’re doing but we’ll talk later.”

Your nails clinked against your phone screen as you roughly tapped the end call button, your eyes glued to your phone as exited the makeup store.

As soon as you stepped out, you felt your wrist being yanked to the left causing your whole body to fall.

You braced yourself for impact but it never came as you collided into a strong lean frame instead of falling onto your knees.

Tendrils of silver hair tickled your nose as you steadied yourself.

You looked up at Abbacchio, annoyance and slight panic carved onto his face, his temple vein pulsing in anger.

“Leone? What’s goi-”

Immediately, he slapped his hand over your mouth, muffling out the rest of your sentence.

He leant down to your hight, his breath hot on your ear as he whispered, “they’re tracking us, my phone was taken, just stay close to me and stay quiet so you don’t get hurt.”

Despite not having a clue about who “they” were, you nodded.

“Give me your phone.” He commanded, his large palm outspread ready to receive your phone.

You rummaged through your bag, plucking the cold device out when it met your finger tips.

Once in his hand, Abbacchio smashed your phone against the brick wall, instantly shattering it on impact. You pouted seeing your precious device crumble before your very eyes.

“Hey, stop with the long face. I’ll buy you a new one okay?” He asserted, stroking the top of your head.

You sighed in compliance, however there was one question that kept nagging at your brain. “Why did they track me though.” You blurted out, you couldn’t help but feel slightly worried there was something wrong with your phone security.

He grunted already foreseeing what would happen, “because… you’re the only number actually saved under a name in my phone.” He reluctantly admitted.

You grinned at him, pleased. “I knew you loved me, at home I’m rewarding you with a fat kiss.”

“Please don’t.” He frowned, exhibiting mock discontent although the tale-tale redding of his ears gave him away, making you smile wider your grin.

“I-!”

“Stop talking chatterbox.” He reprimanded as though he were your teacher, “c’mon let’s just get out of here before they try something idiotic like taking you hostage.”

Narancia Ghirga

You blew hot air into your hands feeling the cold air kiss your face and hands. You’d just finished watching a new film that’d just aired in the cinema with your fiends but as you exited the cinema, the temperature had dropped significantly.

Pulling your hood up, you waved goodbye to your friends and started making your way to the nearest train station.

You tapped your card onto the card pad on arrival and went through the gates, waiting on the platform for the train.

Just as you were about to get on the train you noticed a man of similar stature to narancia, actually on further inspection, you found that it was narancia.

You hopped out of the carriage, running after Narancia. It made you worried that he was out at such a late time, where’d did he have to be running off to at ten pm at night?

As you ran after him you noticed he was amongst a group of other men, you presumed they were his friends as you’d seen them amongst him before however you couldn’t be sure, it’d be better to follow him rather than allow him to get himself into trouble.

They took so many twists and turns that at one point you almost became confused and lost them, then finally they stopped after arriving at a secluded area in town.

You took a peak at what they were doing from behind the corner of the brick wall nearest to them.

Pressing yourself up against the brick wall in hopes of staying hidden, you wonder Narancia was even doing here, just being here gave you the chills, rather than be here he should have come to your house for a sleepover where the pair of you could have made a pillow fort and cuddled.

You frowned at the thought.

“The heck man? Where’d this guy go!” A voice, who you recognised to be Narancia, exclaimed.

“Why you asking me like I know! You’ve got Aerosmith, start looking!” Someone shouted in retaliation.

“Oi quit it.” You heard the sound of clothes rustling as the person scolded Narancia and his friend? “Get a grip, they couldn’t have gotten that far.”

A light slap, perhaps even slightly playful, resonated though the air, “knock it off Abbacchio, get off me.” Narancia jibed.

You bit your lip in fear, was someone hurting him.

You clenched your fists by your side, that’s it, your mind was made up. You were going to go over there.

“Nar- mpgh!”

“Hey guys!” Narancia beamed excitedly, “I found something!”

“Well then lead the way.” Bruno probed drawing out his stand.

“Right here-!” Narancia gasped audibly, meanwhislt lil bomber released a huge puff of black smoke.

“How did you- what do you think you’re doing!” He stammered firing lil bomber at the men who held your unconscious body captive.

“HEY! Calm it!” Mista shouted restraining the black haired boy.

“Mista. Let go.”

“Narancia.” Giorno called sternly, “don’t be rash. Mista’s right, you need to calm down, look.” He pointed at the enemy users, “we’re outnumbered we can’t afford to be rash.”

“He’s right.” Bruno informed, “let’s hear out their demands first.” He turned to face the mob members, “what is it you gentlemen want?” He asked.

One member, dressed in all black, stepped up, “we’re actually proposing a very fair deal, one measly girl for your amore eh, give us the boss’s daughter and we’ll give back this girl we saw following you, yeah?”

Bruno’s lips set into a thin line.

The pitying eyes of his team members all met his as he realised the ultimatum.

“Narancia,” Fugo probed, trying to be as gentle as possible.

He sharply turned his head to the side, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze, “you can’t.”

“There’s no other option.” Abbacchio comment.

“The heck you sayin’ that’s not fair! Civilians aren’t like us stand users and-and that’s my-!” He pointed at your unconscious figure, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “That’s my-!”

“We know!” Fugo spat raising his voice, he hadn’t meant to, he was just stressed and little by little his frustrations were leaking out of him.

“Alright!” Shouted the enemy user who seemed to be a stand in leader, “you’ve made your choice,” he sharply tapped Narancia on his cheek, blood quickly tinting his soft skin red, “sort your friends out bud. No Trish, no trade.”

Giorno Giovanna

“Gio Gio!” You yelled seeing Giorno dart around a corner.

“Hey wait up!” You dashed after him, skidding right as he took a sharp turn.

Just narrowly dodging a lamppost, you called out for him again. He was much further ahead of you due to his impressive, almost inhumane, agility

You were intrigued as to what he was doing running all over Italy during mid day, just the other day he told you he’d got a part time job at the ice cream van so why wasn’t he there?

A small gasp escaped your mouth upon seeing that he was within reach, hence why you picked up the pace and ran as fast as you could after him.

Just as he was about to take off again, you grabbed his wrist, firmly holding it in your manicured hand.

“Gio Gio,” you greeted shyly, your face hot after chasing him down. “Where are you going, don’t you have work? Isn’t it your first day.” You looked at him expectantly awaiting an answer, how could he have run off like this on his first day. For such a responsible guy this was a very irresponsible action.

He looked at you horrified, “it’s lunch.” He stated, unsure, seemingly trying to convince you as well as himself.

“Oh right…” you quietened down, peering at him through your lashes, “well would you like to have lunch together.”

“He won’t be able too but I certainly would.” A coarse voice chimed in, as a strange figure wriggling their grubby fingers started to approach the pair of you.

You squealed and jumped closer to giorno, locking his fingers with yours, hoping being near him would calm your erratic heart.

Giorno remained silent, his lips pursed and brows drawn together, dissatisfaction radiating off of him.

A startled shriek left your lips as the figure pounced towards you, you shut your eyes and squeezed giorno’s hand tightly until you heard a loud thud near your feet.

You jumped on Giorno’s side upon seeing his hand touch your ankle yet just moments their hand went limp.

Your lip protruded outwards as you concentrated hard on the now unmoving figure. In the span of 3 seconds the figure had ceased all movement yet… nothing happened in between those three seconds- how-.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Giorno clearing his throat, “now about that lunch amore?”

Pannacotta Fugo

“What are you talking about!” Fugo snapped at the most unbearable enemy stand user he’d ever encountered. Undoubtedly that thing was just spewing out lies so he’d falter and lose his concentration.

“Rather than speak, why not just show you.” The enemy stand user shrugged and snapped his fingers.

Two of his henchmen followed suit with you in their grasps, Fugo felt his mouth go dry.

Your eyes widened upon seeing your boyfriend, “F-Fugo! What is this, this isn’t some sick cruel joke is it.” You asked trembling.

Fugo leaned his hands on the building in front of him, head down, his sturdy frame being supported by his hands.

How did it all go wrong?

“Fugo!”

Reflexively, he turned his head to the sound of your voice as your eyes bore into him.

He rose to his full height and glared at the enemy user, “What would you like me to do for-”

“Beg.” He interrupted, his mind already set on his answer.

“No-” a lacky caressed your dainty finger, bringing it-

Fugo grit his teeth, “Wait! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay, please, please just stop.”

“On your knees.”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but then snapped it shut seeing your fearful gaze on him and lowered down to his knees.

“Please just release the civilian.”

“Now give us that piece of paper with the details on it.”

He wished he could have his stand aid him, however as you were in the vicinity it would also be harmful to you, perhaps even lethal as you were only a citizen.

He threw the paper at the enemy users head and muttered out one last “please.”

The lackey’s kicked you forward now they had what the wanted in hand, rapidly making a move to escape before backup could arrive.

Your lip trembled as you made eye contact with Fugo.

He ran forward and embraced you, feeling slightly better when you threw your arms around his shoulders.

“Fugo.” You sniffled.

He cupped your cheeks, using his thumb to wipe away your stay tears. .“I know.”

[tsireyasyawntu]

well… my school break is over. sorry i didn’t post as much as i’d hoped to— but i definitely got farther in my drafts… lots of writing for lots of characters… more azula to come, definitely. everyone loves her (me. i’m everyone)

[chuluoyi]

Is there any more entries you are planning on adding to love entries? I check the series masterlist everyday lol

you do?!😭 there is!! i haven’t added it to the masterlist bc i’m still pondering about the title ahahah

[brokengem]

Hi! I was curious. You made a post a while ago about making a LeoVil fic for the Tsum Tsum event. Did you ever end up writing it?

Hi there! 😅 So it’s been started.

Have I finished it? Not yet, but I will.

Sadly I get distracted very easily if someone doesn’t keep me down the right path…between working and playing Honkai Star Rail and Baldurs Gate 3 and trying to write when I do have free time…writing has been slow.

Not only have I been working on the Leovil tsumland fic. But like at least 3 other Leovil ideas (one being a Crow au multichapter fic), 3 LeoVilJack fics(one based around Portfest), a JackIdia fic and a few others. Some even for Sk8 and Descendants (going back to my old haunts 😂)

I’m sorry for keeping you waiting since you seem to be looking forward to it. I’m going to try to get it done as soon as possible! But don’t worry when I do I’ll post a link to it here.

[kitkat27]

Unfortunately the fic will not make it before my birthday as I had planned (oct 27th) but I’m gonna try to get it published before November

Ive mainly be swamped with uni work which takes precedence sadly 🥲🙃

[etherealphosphor]

I apologize for such a long delay on my Dottore fics! I’ve been really struggling with school, motivation, and some other stuff too lately.

For anyone who’s waiting on them, I’m so sorry </3

(I’m not on hiatus! Still working, just very.. very slowly!)